Goodbye

Violetta

For two days, I tried frantically to call her back. I needed to know what she knew. I needed to know why she'd wanted me to run.

I needed her to know what Ferrara wanted me to do.

My call never went through.

It made sense. There were no phones deep in the mountains and definitely no phone service. However she'd made the call, it was clearly one way only.

I couldn't warn her.

Other than that, I worried. My knee and ankle were still swollen and bruised, but I was able to put more weight on it. As long as I moved carefully and wore pants, Ferrara wouldn't realize that I hadn't fully healed.

Charlie never returned. None of the employees did. It occurred to me that this was the last time I'd be here. For three years, Confections bar had been my home. If everything went to plan, this would all just be a distant dream.

It hadn't all been bad. When Parker gave me space, I'd actually been able to relax some.

Listen to music, dance. When he didn't give me space, he was pushing me. He wanted me to improve. So much so that he was a complete asshole about it.

When I packed, I put the one photo I had in a plastic bag and tucked it in one of the compartments of my backpack. His son had sent him a new smartphone, and I helped him set it up. He'd taken one picture of us.

The day before he killed himself, I found the picture on my bed. I still couldn't believe he committed suicide, but maybe I should have known something was wrong. He wasn't one to be sentimental. Certainly not sentimental enough to print out a photo and give it to me.

It wasn't hard for me to pack light. I didn't exactly have much to my name. I'd planned on taking the duffel bag, but the backpack was left at the bar yesterday with a note to use it.

It was one of those backpacks specially made for wolf shifters. The unique elastic could expand or shrink during a shift so it could still be worn as a wolf. It was great for long travels.

Except that I wasn't going to shift. Did Ferrara think I was kidding?

Friday morning came with gray skies and early drizzle. Fall was lingering, but soon, those drizzles would turn to snow and the mountains would freeze over. Wolves loved to frolic in the snow, but the humans struggled. Distribution was made a little harder, so the pack would ration. Fun day trips down the mountains were stopped.

And instead of prepping for that, Ferrara was leaving his pack and going deeper in the mountains.

There were no instructions to meet them anywhere, so at first light, I geared up and slowly stepped out of the bar.

Six wolves were waiting for me.

Freezing in my tracks, I swallowed hard. I knew it wouldn't just be Ferrara, although that alone was a terrifying notion. Still, six wolves seemed overkill.

Closing the door behind me, I walked toward them, keeping my eyes down.

"She's limping," Jenson growled. "We already have to travel on two legs because of her, and she's fucking limping."

So much for keeping that a secret.

"Believe me when I tell you that stealth is more important than speed," I said as I still didn't look up. "As is observation. You'll need to shift occasionally to fight off rogue wolves, but it won't help you navigate the magical traps."

I could feel Ferrara's displeasure. "She's fine," he growled.

Jenson took a step forward. "If even one of us gets hurt because of your actions, I will kill you."

This time, I did look up. "You're welcome to try it without me. There are trees in Wisteria Wood that will ensnare you and slowly leach life from your body. Do you think you could identify them in time?"

When Jenson growled, Ferrara stepped forward. "Enough. She comes. Her freedom is contingent only on our success."

"Why so many wolves? The smaller our number, the better."

"Not for what we need." Ferrara grunted. "Saul is our healer. You know Jenson is my second. Bridget is my third. Maverick and Cassius are my highest-ranking guards."

Shit. He was traveling with his second and third? Who the hell had he left in charge of the pack?

"Let's go. I want to get to Wisteria Wood by nightfall."

"You won't get far in Wisteria Wood with this many. The amount of power alone will attract too much attention."

"Power," he purred, "is a good thing. I'm not about to take advice from you."

I tried not to bare my teeth. He was here because I'd been through the woods, but he wasn't going to listen to me?

We all had to die someday. I thought it would be from his hand and not from his stupidity.

"Fine. It's best to enter just before dawn. The outer perimeter has the least magic but the most wolves. Those first few hours of daylight are best to navigate in. When you start to feel the prickle of magic, we should make camp until then." I cleared my throat. "I'm not sure how far away that is from here."

Ferrara jerked his head. "Let's get going."

It didn't surprise me when the group immediately surrounded me. Ferrara in front, Jenson and Bridget just a step behind him on either side. I'd heard her name before, but I'd never met her. Ferrara's third was a tall and willow woman, with the kind of face and figure that belonged on a model. Auburn tresses framed delicate features and fell just below her shoulders. I couldn't imagine there was a wolf alive who didn't feel the power wafting over her. Her position below Jenson was obviously well-established, and she was comfortable with it.

The two guards, Maverick and Cassius, had familiar faces. They were there the night Ferrara killed my father. Maverick walked next to me and Cassius behind me. I could feel his stare boring a hole in the back of my head. The healer walked to my left. I didn't for a single second underestimate him simply because he wasn't a guard.

Six wolves who could kill me with their eyes closed, and there wasn't a single one who trusted me in the group.

Fun.

We hiked through the woods, taking the same route I'd attempted to escape Charlie. When the same wolf stepped out, I gasped and stumbled.

"Amelia," Ferrara greeted. "Everything in order?"

She lowered her head and then looked up to stare at me. Swallowing hard, I glanced away.

"Excellent. We should return in two weeks' time."

We started moving again, and I glanced over at her, but she was gone.

Following the sounds of the river, we met it and walked north until we reached the bridge. As always, it was heavily patrolled. I didn't recognize any of their faces, but I could tell from their openly hostile expression that they recognized mine.

With any luck, I'd never see them again. We crossed the bridge, and I didn't feel any sorrow as I left the West Ham Valley behind.