Silver and Soil
I’d always heard that the fancier cars blocked out the sounds of the road. They were supposed to be luxury, and there was nothing luxurious about the crunch of tires on gravel. In fact, there was nothing luxurious about the backseat of the Mercedes I was riding in. It was cold, and the only sounds were the creak of leather every time I shifted my weight. And the sound of tires on gravel.
I had expected to be taken to another safe house. Or a lab. Somewhere with white walls and no windows.
I didn’t expect the timber road or the long drive up the mountain. I stared at the passing trees, my hand flat on the window as we crossed a stone bridge over a ravine.
I didn’t really know where we were going, but the closer we got, the stronger the scent of other wolves became.
No. Not other wolves. Just another wolf.
We pulled into the driveway of a pine cabin. I could hear the creek running through the edge of the property, and approaching voices.
I watched Agent Holt through the dark tinted window while he told the couple about me. A wolf and a human.
The wolf didn’t stand like a soldier. He stood like something that didn’t need to move to be dangerous. Like the trees behind him had grown around him instead of the other way around.
His hands were tucked into his pockets and he had dirt on his jeans. The woman — the human — wore a dark, floral print dress with a flannel that was too big. Her sleeves were pushed up to her elbows and the bottom of the shirt was tied around her waist. She had dirt on her knees and under her nails.
Agent Holt opened the door to let me out and I was hit with the smell of coffee and old rain.
It’s another Alpha, my wolf screamed in my mind, sensing the predator standing in front of us.
He wasn’t trying to be a predator though. He wasn’t trying to intimidate. He looked…at ease. Comfortable.
The human stepped closer to me, offering her hand. She was the one that smelled like rain and coffee. And vanilla. My nose twitched. And safety.
She didn’t look at me with pity, which I would’ve hated. She didn’t look at me like a weapon either, which was fine. My old pack made it clear to me all the time that I would never be one. I was too small, too thin, too weak. Too in the way.
Instead, she looked at me like I was a guest that had arrived late for lunch.
I felt the amber in my eyes die down, and I reached for her hand. I was barely listening — I couldn’t really focus on anything except my wolf’s pacing and fearful snarling. But she mentioned strawberries, and my stomach betrayed me with a low rumble.
I swallowed before reaching out. I hoped she didn’t notice the way my fingers trembled as they hovered over her palm. I’d been burning up for days, and her skin was cool against mine — a reluctantly welcome contrast.
She didn’t flinch at the heat or my jagged pulse. She didn’t even mention them. It was like she didn’t notice.
She led me around to the back of the cabin, letting the world of the Domestic Anomalies Task Force fade away. I could still hear the sound of voices, but I focused on the messy, lush, wild garden that came into view. There was a fence around it, an attempt to keep the deers, raccoons, and whatever other animals were in the forest out of it.
The woman opened the gate and pointed out the strawberry patch. A lot of the berries were still white, but she found a red one and held it out to me. “Go ahead,” she urged softly. “Take it. Nothing is sweeter than a berry straight off the plant.”
I held it for a long moment, just staring at it. Evaluating it. Waiting for someone to tell me what I owed in return.
Her kindness was something I wasn’t used to. I was almost certain there was a catch. In my pack, people didn’t just give things for free. Not to me, at least.
My eyes met hers for the briefest second. There was no ulterior motive behind them. Just an eager anticipation, waiting for me to eat it.
When I did bite into it, the juice stained my fingers like blood. It smelled like sugar though. Tasted like it too.
The woman seemed satisfied and turned back to the other plants, tending to them. I sat in the dirt near the gate, my back against the fence and my knees drawn to my chest. I watched. Silent. She hummed to herself while she worked like she wasn’t afraid of anything. Like I wasn’t something that might break.
The garden fence wasn’t just wood and wire. It was a barrier that reached my chest. Probably not actually high enough to keep the deer out if they really wanted in, but it gave the illusion. The gate’s latch was on the inside, not the outside. Just a simple little bar that slid into place. It was the first time I’d been in something that was meant to keep other things out instead of in.
The gaps between the planks were just wide enough that I could see the tree line. They were denser, more ancient-feeling than the scrubby woods of the Georgia border.
I looked for blind spots, but the cabin was positioned to where it had the perfect tactical vantage point. These people didn’t just live here. They guarded it.
My focus kept going back to the woman. Her humming was a constant sound. A sound that should’ve convinced the wolf she was hunting us. But the wolf stood at attention, ears pricked at the front of my mind.
If she were a threat though, she would’ve been quiet. Her lack of fear was confusing.
I could smell the wolf approaching before I saw him. On instinct I drew my knees closer, my muscles locking rigid as I lowered my head. Making myself smaller. I expected the Alpha to tower over me. To assert dominance.
He didn’t.
He didn’t act like an Alpha at all. He didn’t even come into the garden, he just leaned against the fence, his arms propped against the top of it.
“The one obsessed with the dirt is Tess,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. It lacked the bark of my old commanders.
Tess waved a muddy hand without looking up.
“I’m K.C. Sometimes people call me Kayvan, but K.C. is easier to say with a mouthful of coffee. The suits are headed back out of Cypress Hollow, so it’s just us now.”
I watched him watch me. His eyes lingered on the strawberry juice that stained my fingers. I had expected him to ask questions. To want to know who I was and where I came from. He didn’t though.
“You can stay here if you want.” There was no pressure in his words. Just a casual offer. I didn’t really have anywhere to go, and this was the calmest I’d felt since my pack was wiped out. Which was saying a lot, because I still didn’t feel calm. I just stopped feeling like I was going to vibrate out of my skin.
“Use the room at the top of the stairs,” K.C. continued. “If you want. Or sleep on the porch if the walls feel too small. We don’t care. Just don’t eat all the strawberries or Tess will make us both weed the kale.”
I remained a statue. I didn’t nod. I didn’t even blink.
But I didn’t run.
The mountain air started to turn sharp and cold. Tess stood, wiping her hands on her flannel. She looked at me. Really looked at me.
My gaze hit the dirt, but not before I caught the smile that formed on her lips. It wasn’t a big, performative smile. Just a tired, honest one.
“I’m gonna go start dinner,” she informed me as she opened the gate. “You can join us if you like. Just make sure the gate’s latched.”
She didn’t lock me in. She left it open with the belief I’d shut it behind me. They didn’t even look back to see if I followed. My wolf felt something strange I didn’t have a word for. We were still on the edge of something. We just didn’t know what.
I was left alone in the darkening garden, the taste of sugar on my tongue and the towering woods watching me.
