Page 55 of Prey for Me

Maybe…

“Why don’t you and Raphael camp higher up hill?” I offer, not revealing the why behind my question.

Nakoa and Raphael whip around and raise their eyebrows at the same time in confusion. I laugh. Sometimes they mirror each other like twins.

“Why?” Nakoa asks, and I shrug, Grace drifting off in my arms as I squeeze and rub her cold, clammy body to keep her awake.

“Higher up, further from any wolf who might have slipped through the fence. They have to get through us first. Plus, we all know it’s warmer up there because of the permanent camp,” I say, and Raphael looks away, ashamed.

As if he should be ashamed for paying homage to his first pack.

Nakoa looks between all of us before murmuring, “Alright. It wouldn’t hurt. There’s only one way up to the lighthouse, like you said. And that way, one of us doesn’t have to stand guard all night. Between Leo and me, one of us will wake up during an attack. And worst case, Raphael has time to run with Grace. It’s smart, Leo. Let’s do it. Plus, you’ll be warmer there.”

“As if I’d fucking run from any threat,” he grumbles, making Grace snickers.

“Um, do I get a say in this?” Grace asks meekly, totally unlike her usual self, a stark reminder that the wounds on her heart may never heal.

“Nah,” Nakoa says with a thin smile. “Pack leader orders.”

I can almost hear Grace’s eyes rolling to the back of her skull. I stand and drag her with me, and she looks up, eyes shining bright with reluctance. She never likes being alone with Raphael unless they’re fucking, and it’s time to change that.

As I watch them part, it’s not lost on me, the loneliness in Raphael’s eyes. He stares after him, but his eyes are distant,despondent. He can feel it too. And it all clicks into place, and I grin ear to ear. A little alone time should resolve the issue. It will heal our pack, especially that place, his secret place, the one a proud alpha like Raphael would never show Grace without a push.

“From his guardian angel,” I muse, rubbing my chin.

I look over to Nakoa, who’s been staring at me. He’s holding a rubber band in his hand, and I nod, allowing him to pull my hair back into a low ponytail. It’s past my mid-back now.

“Why did you really want us to separate?” he asks, and I dodge the question.

“Haven’t you noticed that Raphael, he’s… he’s feeling the big sad,” I search for the word. I’ve gotten so good at remembering big words as I’ve grown older, it frustrates me when they don’t come to me easily.

Nakoa tilts his head in confusion, his once close-cropped hair grown out enough that it curls around his ears.

“He’s dying inside. His heart,” I attempt to explain.

“No one’s dying,” Nakoa says softly, closing the gap between us, pressing his forehead to mine.

“Heisdying. Dying but breathing. So sad he wants to die, like Grace. He just hides it better because he’s proud,” I try again, and this time understanding dawns on Nakoa’s sharp features.

“Suicidally depressed?” he offers. I nod, and he scowls,

“Give me a break. That horndog’s just mad, Grace; she let you claim her before him, and that hurt his ego. That’s it. Don’t stress about it.”

I scowl back at him and turn away. The rain is letting up a bit, so I decide to start a fire so we can get as warm as possible. Nakoa eyes me strangely as we settle into camp for the night. We’re far enough away that we can’t see Raphael and Grace, but close enough that they’re easy to rescue if things go wrong.

“...It’s up to Grace,” I begin, my voice wavering, “But if we’re going to be a family, we all have to be a family. Including Raphael. He has to be her home.”

“Ah, so you’re playing matchmaker in the pack?” Nakoa says, but the joke doesn’t land.

“Testing out a theory.”

“You wanted her to choose us. I want her to accept him. No difference,” I say, hoping he understands.

Despite what they think, I’m not stupid. Not the smartest. Sometimes I make mistake. But he didn’t bite her right the first time on purpose. Nakoa doesn’t make mistakes, not stupid ones like that.

He gives me a strange, unreadable look before getting to work lighting the fire. He doesn’t speak to me for about an hour as we wait out the storm in the enclosure, once some ship or vehicle or something else from the mainland that’s been broken for years.

Suddenly, he speaks up, “It’s up to Grace, but we aren’t separating, Leo. Not now, not ever. She hasn’t come between us. She’s keeping us together.”

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