As soon as he was maybe half a mile away from the camp, Russel noticed one of the humans suddenly get up and casually start to walk away. They were wearing a large, fur-lined cloak to stave off some of the day’s chill. Despite being hidden under a hood and cloak, Russel could still confirm that the person was indeed Lola. It was in the way she walked and moved through the people. He’d seen that so much over the last several months, it was practically burned into his memory.

How could I have blinded myself so completely?

It was a fair question. He should have realized she would have tried something like this but he had trusted too completely in Zeo and Enok and the palace guards. Even amidst the anger and absolute frustration he felt, he wondered how she had managed to squeeze by everyone and slide in with the humans. He also wondered how she had managed to stay hidden for so long. Not even Hank, it seemed, realized she had been with them the whole time.

Or did he and he just didn’t say anything?

That was a definite possibility. Whatever the case was, in the end, it didn’t really matter. He had to do something about this now. It was probably already too late. Hank was slowing them down enough already and they didn’t have the time to go all the way back to the castle. They would never make their deadline.

He wasn’t sure what he would do when he finally accosted Lola but he knew he couldn’t let her just keep going. The fact that it was too dangerous hadn’t changed. He would just have to come up with a solution himself. Maybe he could send her back on horseback with Ays or Lilith. He knew he could trust them. Anyone else was out of the question. Any of his brothers were out of the question. They would just use her as a tool against him. With the others, there was a greater than average chance they would hurt or kill her. Maks, Kurt, Lilith, and Tris were all unknowns although he was pretty sure Tris was harboring a pretty deep-seated prejudice against humans. Her words in the forest confirmed it as well as her interactions with Hank and his knights.

He kept his gaze focused on the figure still slinking through the camp, heading toward a cluster of canvas tents. He figured she was hoping to come off as just another human needing to take a bit of rest before they got started again.

Russel followed after her as soon as he got into the camp. The others with him stopped at all the fires, the knights and other humans glancing up out of curiosity as they came stampeding into the camp. When they saw who it was, most of them just went back to their conversations, food, drink, or whatever else they’d been doing at the time. Ray, Aysir, Tris, and Maks found the other werewolves, who were sitting a ways off by themselves, and joined them. They left Russel to do what he had to in regard to Lola.

He came to the tent she disappeared into and threw the tent flap aside. He walked inside, hunching down to fit. It was dimmer inside the tent, the canvas material blocking most of the day’s sunlight, but he could still see well enough.

So could Lola, who was still covered in the hooded cloak. It shadowed her face, making it look like just an amorphous blob of darkness.

“What are you doing in here?” she asked. She was doing her best to mask her voice but Russel definitely knew it was her. Aysir was right. It was her scent. Not only that but even disguised, her voice was unmistakable.

“That’s a funny question coming from you…” He let the pause hang in the air, his eyes growing more shrewd. “Lola.”

She let out a long sigh and flipped the hood back, revealing her face. She smiled sheepishly.

“I honestly thought you were going to find me that first day,” she said. “Then the next few days went with you still not realizing I was here. I was starting to think I was going to get away with this, especially since you can’t stand Hank, the knights, or the other humans with him. You’ve been away from this raiding party more than you’ve been among it.”

“What the hell, Lola?” he asked. He walked closer to her and laid both hands on her shoulders. He locked gazes with her. “I told you to stay back in Oclan, at the castle. What possessed you to sneak in with the humans?”

“This is my only chance to find Drake. To get revenge for what he did to me. You really think you could have done anything to stop me from joining this raiding party?” she asked. She shoved his arms off of her and stepped back. There was anger in her eyes. “The fact that you even excluded me from this at all means you never intended to follow through on your promise. You were never going to let me fight Drake were you?”

He didn’t answer her.

Mostly, because she was right.

Werewolves were strong, deadly fighters and Lola was just…human. He would have destroyed her in no time. It didn’t matter how much training he gave her or how quickly she picked up the lessons, she would have died. And that would have destroyed him. His time with her had been an awakening of sorts. He’d had many women in the past but not one of them had ever made him feel the way he felt for Lola. She was different. She made his chest hurt every time he thought she was in danger. She made him the happiest he’s ever been and also the most terrified he’s ever been, all at the same time. Thoughts of her were enough to bring him out of the gloomiest sadness or depression.

Losing her was a fate worse than anything else he could even imagine. It was selfish, he knew. But he didn’t care either, not if it meant she would be safe.

“No,” he admitted and he wasn’t ashamed to either. “Drake would kill you. And he would do it slow, just to make sure you suffer.”

“Why? Because I’m just a human?” she asked. She was clearly offended but again, he didn’t care. Not even a little.

“Exactly,” he said.

“I’ll just take one of the guns Hank has. That will even the fight,” Lola said.

Russel felt a deep hurt at those words. She’d seen exactly how devastating those were. How much pain they caused. How could she even consider using one?

“You don’t mean that,” Russel told her.

“Yes. I fucking do, Russel. He killed everyone! Everyone I’ve known and loved. He burned my parents to death right in front of me. I hate him and I hate him enough to watch him suffer and die like a dog.” The word came out of her mouth before she could even stop it or take it back. The second she did, she saw Russel’s face fall and his shoulders slump. He looked like she had just killed a favorite pet of his.

“I know what he did, Lola. But that’s not okay. Not for any of our kind. It’s going too far and I think you know that,” he said. He didn’t want this version of Lola. This hateful, spite-filled person with only revenge on her mind, not caring who she hurt in the process.

“I’m not sorry, Russel. I’m sorry my words hurt you but not sorry I said them. It’s how I feel. You don’t know what it feels like to have someone stronger than you kill someone you love,” she said.

But she was wrong about that. His father had alluded to it during their fight but he had never told Lola the entire truth.

“Yes, I do,” he said. “My father mentioned it in our fight but you never asked me about it. Why?”

Lola didn’t answer him. Not right away. She looked into his eyes, the rage and need for revenge a hot, living thing inside her. It pulsed and beat with her own heart. That pain was reflected in him. Deeply, she saw.

“It wasn’t my place,” she finally said. “And I thought when you were ready to tell me the story, you would on your own time.”

“Maybe now is that time,” Russel said. He gestured to a lone cot and as she sat down on it, he pulled a simple wooden stool over to sit down on. He grasped both of her hands in his and then looked up at her.

“I am listening,” she whispered, her voice soothing now. More gentle.

He took a long, steadying breath. The story he was about to tell was one he had spent almost his entire life trying to block out. It was gruesome and filled with so much pain, he still felt a chunk of it lodged inside his heart. It was always there, a sullen thing that beat separately from his actual heart but no less alive. That pain was so ingrained in him now, it was practically entwined with his soul. It was one of the reasons why he tried to not kill if at all possible and typically only did so as a last resort.

He let his breath out, feeling all that pain inside him start to beat a lot quicker as if readying itself to launch an attack on his mind. It knew he was about to relive the worst day of his life.

“Then I’ll tell you the story of how and why my father killed my mother, right in front of me.”