Werewolf and Vampire Mate [Book 1 Complete]

chapter twenty-five.

April

A waning moon hangs in the sky.

It's been a few days since Wickham's death, since we left the caves and finally rejoined civilization.

The quiet suburban street Reed and I sit on is not too far from Yale. The pack is staying with the wolves who live throughout New Haven. The little blue house Reed and I have been staying at, along with a few other members of our pack, is cute but small. Cramped.

I might stay on campus tomorrow, though Reed understandably wants to remain close to his pack members.

"Have you spoken to Harper?" He asks.

"Briefly, on the phone today. She was with North but they're still working through some things so she's gone back to her dorm room." I pull at blades of grass as we sit on the curb of the road.

Out here is the only place we can have a modicum of privacy.

"We can't stay here forever. We need to figure out a plan," I say and he's already nodding.

"I know. We can rebuild the packhouse."

"But that'll take months. What about until then? And I think we need to consider something else as well..."

His eyebrows pull down. "What?"

"I know that you all enjoy being out in the forest, where you can shift freely and not worry about discovery. But being so isolated up there was what allowed Wickham to attack and kill so many members of our pack in the first place. I think we should consider being closer to the city, closer to the members of the pack who choose to live in the suburbs."

He mulls this over for a minute or two. "You're probably right," he sighs. "I don't want us to be isolated from society. I feel like we had to hide before so that the vampires couldn't find us, so that we were protected. But the truth is, the seclusion has never kept us safe."

"The treaty will," I tell him. "You're going to New York to meet with the Council of Elders tomorrow, aren't you?"

He nods. "They already apologized for Wickham's behavior and the loss of our pack members. They feel terrible."

The entire pack is in mourning. We had a burial and memorial for the lost members of our pack earlier today.

Inside the house behind us, some are still drinking and telling soft stories about those who died.

For a long, heavy moment, Reed is quiet.

"Are you ok?" I ask him. He reaches out and takes my hand, threading our fingers together. He focuses on the way his thumb glides along my knuckles.

"When we were searching for the grimoire," he starts softly, "and Nik and I were hallucinating things that weren't really there...I saw my mom."

My breath hitches. "You did?"

His eyes glaze over, lost in memories. "She looked exactly the same as she did on the day she died. I can remember it so clearly, like it was yesterday. And all I keep thinking is that I...I couldn't save her. And I couldn't save my father and I couldn't save my pack and–"

"Reed." My voice is a pained whine. I push myself closer to him, trying to comfort him. "None of it was your fault."

He says nothing, but his expression is filled with pain.

"Terrible things happen and it hurts but it's out of our control. We can only do the best we can. And look." I turn my head and stare back at the house behind us, the windows lit up with the shadows of our pack members. Reed follows my gaze. "We lost a lot, but we still saved the pack. We'll rebuild. We'll become stronger from this. Together."