Mated

Twenty-Three

The next morning the ground was dry and the world was quiet as if the storm had never happened. James didn't speak to me until he came back from the river. He forced me to eat the wild berries of the forest and fish the boys caught early that morning when I tried to refuse. Then he had everyone meet outside to hear his plan.

"There is a town where an old healer stays. Since he's been alive the longest, knows the most, Eva–" he paused and glanced at the Hunter. "Our healer believes he would know what to do about the Rogues. We'll tell him what they are planning to do and ask for his help. We just need to track him."

A moment later, the Hunter came over to where we sat and handed James the creased paper with the black ink drawings from before.

"Why are giving me this?" asked James. Cort looked at him like he couldn't believe he'd ask him that.

"It's a map of—"

"The twelve cities?" James' eyebrows furrowed and he looked at him. I peered over his shoulder for a better look. The paper was actually a cloth-like fabric that had been drawn over. The dark ink covering it was in fact split into twelve distinctive sections each either identified with trees, valleys, or water.

"The map is ancient...but if we're looking for someone who has been around for a long time I think it'll help."

"We need to figure which part of the states they fall into."

"I'll trace it. I know all fifty states by heart," I spoke up. Taking the map from James, I held it flat on his back and dug my fingertips into wet dirt at my feet. Then I began to outline North America, etching lightly over the lines so that it was a faded sketch beneath the black ink. When I was finished I held it out for them to see. The corners of James' lips turned down, and he raised a brow as if impressed, but the expression was gone as quickly as I'd caught it.

"We need to get here, where he was last seen," Cort pointed at an area off the coast of Maine. "We could get there after noon if the Alpha Turns completely and carries us all." He looked pointedly at James. James who would have to carry three men and myself. For a second, I thought he was going to reject the Hunter's plan.

"We won't get there 'til nightfall," he corrected, crossing his arms and tightening his mouth, and I know he's thinking he doesn't like being told what to do. Especially by a Hunter. But the wolf who attacked us yesterday was only the beginning. I'd been camped here long enough to be found again if we stayed any longer.

"We need to go. Now," I said to him.

I helped pack up and soon the clearing was empty again except for us. Cort began walking ahead.

"Where do you think you're going?" James called after him. Brent Turned before Cort craned his neck around and was in front of him in a blink of an eye. He growled and pulled back his lips in a snarl. Cort only narrowed his eyes at him, his face not showing a trace of fear of werewolf Brent. I guessed he's seen and fought plenty like us to not even be bothered by it.

"Brent," I stalked over to them, feeling apologetic for his behavior. "For the sake of my life and yours, do not upset the Hunter. He's already shot me once." I gave him a reprimanding look and he scowled. I didn't have the same commanding power as James, but as Luna, he'd respect my wish. Unless of course, James commands him to do the opposite. I reached up and stroked the fur on the side of his face until he relaxed.

"It's in my blood not to even be close to you all," said Cort.

"Get over it," James' grunt came from close behind me. "You found us. Not the other way around."

Then he dropped to his knees and rolled his shoulders back. Without even pausing, his body began to quiver and his limbs stretched for the Change. Out of respect for one's privacy when they are Turning, the twins and I faced the other way. Except Cort who only averted his gaze. The Change for an Alpha to his completed wolf form was slower than it was to only be half Changed. I have never seen it done before, I had never seen my dad completely Changed either, so I peeked out of the corner of my eye to catch a glimpse of it.

James was watching me when his face was the last to go through the change. I watched the skin of his face disappear between thick, black fur and his features were just as quickly his wolf's. He stood just over six feet tall on four paws and was black as night. He walked first to me, kneeling for me to climb on, then he walked over to Cort. After a long pause, the Hunter reluctantly climbed on, swinging his pack with him.

James whined, craning his neck to focus green eyes on me.

"What's wrong?" I leaned forward. He whined again, this time looking toward Cort's pack.

"Will it add too much weight?" I turned back to look at James. He nodded his furry head and huffed through his snout, looking toward the twins. I turned to Cort. " You'll have to bring only what you can carry yourself or he won't be able to carry us."

He looked irritated, but not surprised to hear this. James waited until he took out an array of small weapons and daggers, tucking them in odd places in his clothing and threw his pack to the ground. Then Hugh and his brother, back in his human form, climbed on.

He raced through the trees over the mountains, following the route that led to the north-east, only stopping for food when needed, more for James's wolf than for ourselves. After hours of running he slowed, growing winded from having used up most of his energy and everything he'd eaten.

The sun lowered and the scenery changed from brown mountains to evergreen. The sun almost finished its descent as we drew nearer. When we stopped briefly atop a hill for the last time, I caught a whiff of the briny gulf ahead. It smelled close enough.

"We're a few miles from the nearest town. We'll most likely be intersected by Ulta," said Cort, referring to the Warrior Wolves of wolf packs. James gave him a nod and picked up his pace again.

Darkness welcomed us when we neared the destination on the map and we finally passed a sign that read, "Welcome to Damariscotta, Maine!". I could smell the humans populating the area and heard the excited chatter coming from the well-lit civilization. Cort descended first.

"I'll find you some clothes," he said when we were all on the ground, and we watched him head into the town.

"I guess he forgot about his medieval outfit–a dead giveaway that he's an out of towner," Hugh snickered and we waited, far away from the thriving city, for the werewolf Hunter to return.