Page 73 of Locke

“Any other mated pair cannot take part in this rescue,” I snapped. “That’s an order. I want this done in six hours.”

Bones said nothing on the other line.

“I said it was an order. Do you understand?” I growled.

“Y-yes, Alpha.”

He said Alpha! And it wasn’t in a derogatory or joking manner. It was in reverence, in hope.

I took a deep breath and sat in the chair. My eyes darted to Emm who was still sleeping soundly, undisturbed.

My body craved to be near her, but I couldn’t let this go. Not yet, not when we were close.

For the next hour I made phone calls. One to Bear to check on their health, and the other to Hawke. I felt stupid that I would forget such a huge detail about pack-links, but shit, it had been so many years since any of us had been a part of a pack.

Mates, in general, were stronger, of course, their animals wanted to establish a connection. The pain in their mind, searching for its home pack, would get stronger until it was relieved. The mated needed to be returned home quickly to establish the connection.

As for the unmated; a ceremony performed by a witch would have to be established. It would pull their animals from going rabid and establish a formal connection. At least, I hoped; it was what I read in books I had found many years ago.

It was never an easy process for shifters to move from pack to pack. It was painful and downright dangerous. Some could lose their life with the pain, and if the soul was not strong enough— they may not make it.

Before performing such a ceremony, we would have to check each soul.

And, who the hell was going to check a soul to make sure a member wasn’t going to be in danger of dying?

Journey?

I ran my hand down my face. If they are too far gone, if they have been rogue long enough, I can’t help; only their mates can.

At least some individuals, who have been recently rejected within the past few years, had a better chance.

“We are getting there,”my wolf mumbled. “You are doing everything in your power.”

I chuckled and pulled at my hair. “My sister would be better at this.”

He hummed. “Probably.”

Asshole.

Two days passed. I had been rearranging our new living quarters on the third floor of the packhouse. It was not completely furnished, still, but I didn’t think it would be. At least someone had the idea of finishing the alpha suit first - walls, a bed, a table and kitchen supplies. Hell, it even had food.

Journey, she had a sixth sense about this stuff—or the Goddess inside her head. I don’t know which.

And they all think I’m crazy.

Emm has moved very little and was still laying in bed. I constantly checked on her, keeping her warm and covering her with blankets again, while trying to make our home more like—a home. Adjusting the drapes, fluffing the pillows, all that.

Gods, I fluff pillows!

I ordered so much shit, and wolves kept dropping it off just outside the door. Too scared to even knock on the double doors, afraid I would come out and bite their heads off.

They should have been scared; their luna was transitioning, and my fucking shaft was raw as fuck.

Luckily in one of the boxes, Bones had the decency to put in some lube and a damn fleshlight inside. He even put in theinfamous rutting root, that he had told me time and time again not to use, but I know I will not use it. I think it was as a joke, but a fucking terrible one.

The rut was getting worse, but I did what I could to keep my mind off of it. And, that was to decorate.

Our home would look much better than the shitty RV she was staying in. She’s lived in that thing for almost fifteen years. Flashes of her past life flickered in my head constantly, and the more I see, the more I realize just how strong she is.

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