Page 90 of To Keep A Wolf
Now, I stand before the fifth gravestone. None of them are buried here. Rina asked for one thing when she left us that day: to be gifted the bones of her enemies. I didn’t ask why because, frankly, the dark request suggested an answer I probably didn’t want to hear anyway.
I gave them to her without argument, and she’d taken them away to rest elsewhere.
She hadn’t returned since.
Now, these markers are for their memories, not their bodies. I’m okay with that.
On my left are the first four names: Crigger, Jadick, Thiago, Kari.
Directly in front of me is Marilyn.
“I knew it. You’re still worried she’ll return.”
I look up at the sound of Tripp’s voice. He steps up beside me, leaning lazily over the railing. “Even if she does, this doesn’t belong to her anymore,” he adds.
I sigh. “I’m not worried she’ll take it. She doesn’t even want to lead the pack.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Marilyn was just as much a victim in all this,” I say. “I guess I just want to know that she made it out too.”
“You and Vicki left her in your kitchen, and when the team went back to retrieve her, she was gone,” he reminds me. “That means she made it out.”
“Yeah,” I say. “You’re right.”
He straightens, puffing out his chest. “Say it again for the people in the back.”
I smirk at him. “Make me.”
He snorts. “You want to throw down, Quinn, we can go right here, right now.”
“Why not? I still haven’t kicked your ass for that Twilight-Barbie scandal,” I tell him.
“Whoa, no one is throwing down today.” Nely steps between us, glaring at both of us in equal measure. “I swear, you’re both children.”
Tripp grins.
“I’m a babysitter,” Nely mutters to herself. “A glorified freaking babysitter.”
Lorenz steps up behind her, planting a kiss on her cheek. “A gorgeous babysitter, though.”
Nely rolls her eyes. “Stop trying to get in my pants.”
“No, Lorenz is right. You’re definitely the prettiest second we have,” I deadpan.
“Hey,” Tripp protests as Nely grins.
“The boss has spoken,” Nely says smugly.
“Look, there can’t be two seconds. That’s just fourths. Or third.”
“Actually, I’m third, remember?” Lorenz puts in.
Tripp groans. “I hate math, but you know what I mean.”
“We are not doing this again,” I say.
“Stop whining, and just accept that there are now two of everything,” Nely tells him. “Two alphas and two seconds.”
