Finn

Chapter Thirteen

After Cillian and I had our breakthrough, I had expected everything to be smooth sailing. He had introduced me to his pack, and it went relatively well. Their pack was small and very close knit, and many of the members welcomed me with open arms. Some were understandably cautious, but the longer I spent with the pack the more open they became.

Turin, Nolan, and Cillian spent most of their time away from the pack house. I tried asking Cillian about what he did all day, but he always avoided the question. This, of course, made me even more curious - but I hardly had opportunities to push him further. He left early in the morning before breakfast, so I rarely saw him then. Sometimes he made it back in time for dinner, but usually he'd find me when I was getting ready for bed and we'd chat about our days while I drifted to sleep.

Without the boys around, I spent most of my time with Rory. My foot healed flawlessly and I was walking on my own within a couple of days. I started helping cook meals in the kitchen, and Rory began walking me through the Luna responsibilities that I would eventually take over. She kept me very busy with various tasks. Chopping vegetables for dinner, filing paperwork for Cillian, reviewing orders for new supplies for the Pack, organizing new shipments and putting them away.

Sometimes Nolan would join us in the afternoons and entertain us with funny stories. He and Rory would banter back and forth, and I'd watch them with a huge grin. They were still fairly new mates, and it was obvious in every interaction they had. Everything they did they did with passion. Whether that was arguing about the correct way to chop bell peppers, or telling the other how beautiful they were. Their love was so pure, and I couldn't help but smile around them.

Most days before dinner, Turin would come and bother us until Rory snapped and told me to take off early to keep Turin away from her. He'd grin triumphantly and drag me outside. We'd go on walks around the pack grounds and he'd tell me about their history until it was time for dinner.

Overall, things were going great. Cillian and I still had some stuff to work through, but every day I got more and more comfortable with him and the pack. I was used to working on my feet all day, but it was nice to be doing these things because I wanted to and not because I was threatened. I felt fulfilled in the work I was helping with, and ended most of my days with a smile on my face. That, alone, should have been my first clue that something bad was about to ruin it.

It had been almost a week since I'd arrived, and Rory and I were taking a break in the kitchen. She had made us each a mug of hot chocolate, and I hugged mine close to my chest. It was almost November in Massachusetts, which meant there was about to be snow covering the ground. The werewolves I was surrounded by didn't seem to notice the shift in temperature, but I was almost constantly shivering.

"...was thinking that we-" Rory cut off mid sentence, her face falling blank. She stood across from me, leaning against the counter with her mug in her her hand. I noticed the glazed look in her eye that came along with a pack line message, and waited for her to fill me in. I had gotten more used to it after a week around the wolves, but it still made me anxious to not know what was going on.

I tapped my foot against the wall of the counter, my fingers drumming against the sides of my mug. The flashes usually disappeared as quickly as they came, but Rory had been staring into space for nearly two minutes. When she finally came back, her mug fell to the counter, the brown liquid spilling out on the white countertops.

"What's wrong?" I asked, jumping up from my barstool and putting my mug down. Rory stood up straight, blinking her eyes a few times as she adjusted. Her eyes snapped to me, looking me up and down briefly before she sprung into action.

"We have to go." She told me, moving across the kitchen in a blur and appearing next to me. She gripped my elbow, leading me towards the staircase in the other room. I struggled to keep up with her quick pace, jogging lightly behind her.