Unhappily Ever After

Chapter 25 - Pack Law

Vik wouldn't need to hide that he was mind-linking. He was the go-between, after all. But a random flockie guard glazing over might trip the warning bell, so I had chosen Eira as my line of communication. Our link was so far buried that I could just think and she'd hear it. So Vik would link Eira, out in the forest, and Eira would link my answers back to him.

There was no point taking two cars, really, so four of us crammed into the back seat. Lexi and Eira were both tiny, after all. Vik drove, his Beta rode shotgun, and for Vik's sanity we made sure his mate was as far from Lee and me as she could get.

We threw Eira out of the car at the bottom of a hill. She had a clear line of retreat to Lle o Dristwch if any flockies came looking, but I doubted they would. It wasn't like Kat's location was unknown and they needed a prisoner to torture.

Then Vik drove up a narrow, dilapidated track towards the crest. It wasn't long before we could see the church. Eglwys Wen, Dafydd had named it. White Church, although that characteristic colouring had long since faded to grey, speckled with dead ivy roots. There wasn't a car park, exactly, but there was a grassy verge long enough for a dozen cars, let alone seven.

But Vik passed it by. He kept his foot on the accelerator, taking us as far as the track would go before he pulled up. There was nothing ahead except a field gate and a footpath, and Vik was showing no inclination to get out of the car.

"What's going on?" Lee asked. He darted a look at me, as if he suspected I might be to blame for the detour, but I was equally clueless.

"Ivan and I used to wait here for our Dad. He knows we need to talk, so he'll be here."

I was sceptical, naturally, but more than willing to play along. We sat in the car for about ten, fifteen minutes, talking about inconsequential things, before the purr of an engine quieted us. Through the rear-view mirror, I saw Vik's mouth stretch into a self-satisfied smirk.

"You know him well," I acknowledged.

"He's my brother," Vik muttered.

I supposed I had just assumed they weren't close, given that Vik had rebelled and run away and all that... But then again, Gwen and I were as close as siblings got, and I had done the exact same thing to her. The motive had been more selfless, but the action itself was identical.

The new car came into sight soon enough. It was a Range Rover — not the flashiest of vehicles, yet more suited to the rough terrain than Vik's BMW. The windows were tinted, but I could see the shadows of four men inside. No Luna, of course.

"Do you need to listen, Llewellyn?" Vik asked carelessly.

"Don't need to, but it would help."

He shrugged, because it didn't matter to him either way. "Okay. I'll leave the window open a crack."

Once he had rolled it down a fraction, he climbed out and walked over to the field without glancing once at the second car. He climbed onto the gate and sat with his legs lodged under the crossbar, facing away from us. Within half a minute, I heard another car door slam, and I ducked my head because our windows were crystal clear.

Ivan Lloyd strolled towards the gate. He wasn't in a hurry, and he seemed more interested in the distant treeline than his estranged younger brother, but it was clearly an act. Exactly like the way Vik ignored the sound of footsteps was an act. Neither of them wanted to admit they cared.

Bloody hell, the pair of them were worse than my family.

The New Dawn Alpha climbed onto the gate, too, so they perched side by side, still not deigning to look at each other. He said something very quietly, Vik snorted, and then they were talking as if nothing had happened, in that way that siblings did. It took a while for the conversation to get loud enough for us to hear — and I didn't fail to notice Vik driving up the volume every time he opened his mouth for that very reason.