Claimed by the Pack

I stared down past her pretty face, my gaze lingering on the long hair that had brushed up so softly against my stomach. Those smooth curves that had belonged to my fingertips just hours ago. Mentally I kicked myself again for not going for round two.

“That’s pretty much all we know,” I lied. “That this lost ‘archive’, or whatever Xiomara called it, is something highly important to your Order.”

Serena rubbed at her chin. “And you’ll take me?” she asked.

“Of course.”

When she looked at us again her expression was softer. All the accusation was gone. I could sense a certain measure of faith there now, and of course, the constant, underlying heat. She knew we were there to help her, though. And she us.

Hopefully, anyway.

“Alright,” she said calmly. “Tell me everything you know about us.” After a moment’s pause, she smiled sweetly and added the word “Please.”

“You’re a member of the Hallowed Order,” I said. “Blackstone Manor, upstate NY.”

She tried to keep a straight face. It wasn’t working.

“Don’t worry I’ve been there,” I assured her. “I’ve walked its corridors. I’ve met some of the people there, including Xiomara.” I jerked a thumb back in Broderick’s direction. “Not him though. Just me.”

This information seemed to ease her fears a little. Her body relaxed, and the tension went out of her shoulders.

“I found this first book two weeks ago,” I said, tapping her phone, “in the underhalls beneath Château de Bardenois. It’s a ruined castle, just outside of Paris.”

It was funny saying that like it was no big deal. Back when I was surfing Malibu, if you’d told me I’d be wandering the catacombs beneath an eight-hundred year-old castle on the outskirts of Paris I’d have laughed my ass off.

“I recognized the symbol,” I said, “and sent it straight to Xiomara. Apparently she loved it. And now you’re here.”

I’d left out the part where Broderick forbade me to send the book. He’d told me to destroy it, actually — that it wasn’t anyone’s business but ours. Normally I might’ve obliged him, or at the very least, taken his wishes into consideration. But this was the Order, and therefore, Xiomara.

And I owed her. Big time.

“Why were you down there to begin with?” Serena asked. “These… underhalls?”

“Because at one point that’s where we lived,” Broderick stepped in.

“Or gathered, rather” I amended.

“Gathered?” Serena’s brow furrowed. The motion formed a little crease between her eyes that looked utterly adorable.

“Yes… well…” Broderick stumbled. “We all had different places,” he said. “But as wolves — as a pack — we ran the forests and warrens surrounding the Château and its cathedral.”

If any of this was supposed to make her less confused, it wasn’t working. Serena was shaking her head.

“It was our home for a while,” I jumped in, “all of us. The elders had been using it for almost a century, so a good part of it was secretly modernized, kept with the times. But the rest… the rest was left intentionally decrepit to keep outsiders away.”

She nodded mechanically. I knew she was blowing off most of what we were saying, but that was fine. I didn’t expect her to buy into everything. I didn’t buy into it at first, either.

“I was told you’ve been away from your group for a year now, though. That the two of you are outcasts.”

Broderick’s face soured. I didn’t like the term myself, to be honest.

“That’s a lie,” I explained. “We weren’t cast out. We left on our own.”

“Okay, why?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Broderick stepped in. He still had his guard up. “The point is, we broke away. Let’s just say the pack was going in different directions. Directions that Damien and I weren’t interested in pursuing.”

She considered this for a moment, then asked the question I’d been waiting for.