Page 97 of Campfires & Canines
I jump off my seat. “I’ll be right back. I want to ask him something.” I slip out the door and jog after my uncle.
“Hazel?” His face is lined, exhaustion and worry weighing him down.
“I wanted to ask about his mom. Both his parents actually.” My tone is hushed, hoping Slate’s sensitive hearing won’t pick up my words.
“Why?” Heath asks.
I purse my lips. “Sienna was obsessed with me joining her pack. I need to tell you about some of the things she said.”
“We can talk about it when you’re recovered.” Heath tucks his hands in his pockets.
“I’m fine,” I lie. He knows. His eyebrows rise slightly.
“She wanted me to become mates with her son. He said it was so she could try and take over our pack. Since I’m related to you, I guess?” Everything comes out in a rush. I bite my cheek.
Heath nods slowly. I hold my breath. “She always wanted to be an Alpha. I thought Granite Ridge would have been enough for her," he muses. “I guess not.”
“What do you mean?” I press. I need to understand why she would go to such extreme measures.
Heath sighs. “When we were young, Sienna wanted to be mates with your father. She pursued him even when they were kids. When he rejected her, she settled for Clay. He was in line to be beta. She wanted him to challenge for Alpha, which never would have happened.”
“Oh.”
He doesn’t mention himself. I want to ask if Sienna went after him too, but I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.
“Around the time she had Slate, Ferris’s first mate passed away. She left for his pack within a few weeks.” He speaks so calmly, but I can sense disgust under the surface.
“Could they just come in and try to take us over? Why did they need me?” My attempt at indifference fails as my voice shakes.
Heath straightens his arms out and grips my shoulders. “The other packs wouldn’t let them do that. You don’t need to worry about anything happening. None of this is your fault, and we’re more than capable of dealing with them.”
I force my mouth into a smile, despite the fear still churning in my gut.
“Are you okay?” He asks.
“Yeah. I’m going to go back to Slate.” Slate’s presence is the only place I feel safe. He is flame, chasing away the shadows.
Heath nods and strides away. I go straight into Slate’s arms. He holds me tight and I feel my worries dissolve. We can tackle anything together.
Slate
Hazel looks up at me. "Okay, what do we do now?" She raises an eyebrow suggestively. but I can sense worry and anguish swirling beneath the surface.
"I don't know if we have ten minutes or two hours." As much as I would love to take her to bed, it isn't a good idea.
She absently rubs at her claim mark and I resist the urge to ask to see it. Instead, I busy myself with tidying up.
She wanders to the bookshelves and starts pulling out random books and skimming the back of them. I’ll need to clear out space for her book collection. This is her home too.
By the time I’m done washing up, she’s curled up with a pile of my sketchbooks. My face heats. "Is this okay?" she asks, closing the book in her lap.
"Of course." I scoot the pile over and sit next to her. She nestles into me. I can't help but wrap my arms around her and haul her into my lap.
She eases the book open again and flips to the middle. I appreciate how delicately she turns the pages, careful to not smear the pencil. "I love this," she murmurs, pausing on a drawing of a wolf.
"That's Clove," I say. She tilts her head, waiting for more. "She was the closest thing to a mother that I had growing up."
"That's why you’re so close to Cedar and Onyx," she concludes.
