Changeling (Completed)

Day Forty-Six

Day Forty-Six

Decisions. They're so hard. Do I go to witness this war or do I stay to watch the Council and Shana get their comeuppance? I'm glad that Ronson took this one out of my hands. We head south-west, toward the front line and Ronson's pack. His entire pack. They have been making their way there for weeks. When Shana and her brother came to the mansion for the Claiming, they removed the last of the Council's spies from Ronson's land. Fortuitous, isn't it?

"You're very clever," I muse softly to Ronson.

He wraps his arm around my shoulders and kisses the side of my head. "I've had years to plan this, baby."

"You couldn't have planned for me," I tell him proudly. Ha. Stole his thunder, didn't I?

He chuckles, then takes his arm off of me to shift. "No, no one could plan for you," but there was an odd note in his voice.

"What is it?" I ask him.

He glances over at me before returning his gaze to the road. "Nothing, baby."

"It's something," I insist.

He smiles wryly, "Yeah. Yeah, there's something. I love you. I never thought I'd say that to any female. You were a wrench in the plan, sweetheart."

"Worth it, though," Benji kisses the back of my neck. Giggling, I turn and meet his lips with mine. He's taken over the backseat for this trip, sprawled out like the king of his very own two-seat castle.

"Alright, you two. We're going off to battle, you know," Ronson hauls me back to his side, arm secure around me once again.

I hold back the squeal of excitement. I know today will be bloody and terrible. I do know that, but the mood of the packmembers heading to the border is jubilant. Apparently, the only wolves in Ronson's pack that didn't know the plan were the few that lived in his house. Now I know why no one would talk to me in the house!

"Did Ingrid know about the plan?" I ask Ronson suddenly.

The mood in the truck dips. "No," Ronson replies gruffly, "she was loyal to the Council. It would have been hard on her to pick a side."

"How did you not see her dying?" I ask him. I know he's told me, but I just can't accept it.

Ronson doesn't seem upset at my question. He just nods, looking from the window. "Babygirl," he murmurs, "you've never lived amongst wolves before, right?"

"Never. This is the first time. Oh, in France there was this knight that was nicknamed Le Loup, but that was sort of just a sexy nickname." I smile. Willem was a sexy-

"My Mark on your pretty neck lets me see your thoughts, Innie," Ronson murmurs into my ear.

"Shut. Up. Really?" I ask him. Frowning, I whine just a little, "that's so unfair!"

Both of my men laugh at me. "We need all the advantages we can get," Benji says.

"Anyway," Ronson clears his throat meaningfully, "our wolves are a spirit, separate from us, but of equal importance." I lay my head on his shoulder, missing Wolfie. Ronson kissed the top of my head before continuing, "my wolf was severely weakened by the Severing of his mate bond, even more than I was, at an age of development when he was vulnerable. The Council, well certain members of the Council, wanted me weak." Ronson makes a low, throaty sound of remembered pain. I rub his chest, wanting to soothe him from the raw hurt he still feels.

He captures my fingers and brings them to his lips. "What they didn't expect was that an alpha would rise in the west who is invincibly strong." Ronson's voice trails off. He lets go of my fingers and grabs the steering wheel, his knuckles white.