When morning came, I was groggy and my eyes were blurry. The sun was too bright and I wished that I could just slip back into sleep because this was all so perfect. My head cradled against a shoulder blade, my arm over a waist just tight enough that I could feel the soothing motion of breathing. The skin beneath my thumb was smooth as I traced gentle sweeps up and down the bare abdomen beneath the soft shirt.

My eyes burst up and I ripped my hand away.

Ryder gave a disgruntled groan and rolled over to face me, blinking in a sleepy daze. Even with horror ripping through me, seeing him like this, all ruffled and cozy twisted something within my chest.

"Fuck, sorry, I didn't realize—"

"It's the mate bond," he yawned. How was he entirely unbothered by this?

"Right, this magical connection between us," I ground out, scrubbing a hand over my face. Christ, literally in bed with the enemy.

"You can call it whatever you want, but you were the one that was snuggling me, so it's hard to deny the proof."

My molars ground against each other, but I said nothing as I climbed out of the scratch bed sheets. I used the restroom and changed into my clothes for the day, trying to tame my hair with the shitty comb provided. I ended up looking like a gnarled mess until I settled on styling my hair into tight Dutch braids that wouldn't budge if I spent the day dangling by my fingers from a cliff's edge. To be fair, a day with Ryder was perhaps a little too comparable.

When I returned from the safety of the washroom, Ryder was ready to go.

"You're going to be cold," he commented, barely glancing at me.

"Yeah, well, you picked out my clothes, remember? I wasn't even allowed to go into my own home." I would have opted for something with more coverage, maybe something that I was so comfortable in, it would have felt like armor.

He rummaged through that duffle bag that held everything near and dear to him, retrieving a navy and burnt orange flannel. I expected him to toss it at me, but he approached me slowly, reaching around me to hold it out. I kept my gaze down, knowing full well that if I glanced up, I might crumple. My arms slid over the soft material, appreciating the warmth immediately. Once it was on, he moved to fix the collar, breath catching when his fingers brushed the side of my neck.

A spot of weakness.

"Please don't make me do this," I whispered. "You don't know Milo, but he's a good guy, a great guy even."

It was the wrong thing to say. Ryder pulled away, leaving me with nothing but the scent of his detergent. "We already went over this, George. I have to do this, to save me and you. Keiko and Ajax want someone to face a punishment. I won't let it be you. They can't come after me. And even if he is a good guy by your standards, he's still a killer."

"So am I," I pressed.

"I know," he managed. "I know."

If playing on this soft side wouldn't work, I was not beyond attacking the jugular. "I will hate you forever if you let anything happen to him. I hope you know that."

There was not a crack in his façade to be found. "You can either come with me and try to make this as smooth as possible for your dearest friend, or I can take you right back to ajax and Keiko and you can determine how hard Milo fought me with how many bruises he shows up with. How's that?"

"I'll tell him you're a werewolf," I shot back. "He was the best on the team, everyone thought so. The only reason that I got sent to kill the royals is because he refused to do it."

"I don't know if you're trying to tell me that he's going to kill me or if you're trying to tell me that he's got a better heart than you. It doesn't matter. I'm going and I will be bringing him back with me. You can either come along or you can go right back to Ajax and Keiko. Those are your only two options."

"I hate you," I snarled through clenched teeth.

Then we rounded up our meager belongings and headed out.

My mind raced on the drive. What could I say to Milo? What could I say to Ryder to get him to stop this ridiculous crusade? If I couldn't protect Milo, how was I supposed to protect the others if things came unraveled? What would they all think of me when I sold them – the only family I had – out? They would hate me for sure. There is no way around it. I could never blame them for it.

"We can lie to Keiko and Ajax. We can say that he wasn't home or that he moved," I suggested softly.

Ryder didn't even flinch. He proceeded to drive up the winding mountain road as if he hadn't heard me at all.

"Can't we make a deal?"

"Can you bring back all the werewolves you killed?" he challenged.

So, I closed my mouth and decided that Ryder was not the person I needed to waste my time on. If there was anyway of getting Milo and I out of this, it was up to Milo's keen eye for detail and my careful words and clues.

Milo's home was before us too quickly and my mind was still spinning out, trying to come up with a plan. I only had one.

The little squat home was in front of me too soon. I wanted to sit in the car to rethink my words, to try and consider how best to control my fate. Ryder was out of the car as soon as it was in park. He was knocking on the front door as I was unbuckling my seatbelt, trying to ignore the shaking of my fingers as I went.

Milo opened the door. He looked the same that he always had. A little icy. A little too serious for his age. But he had put on a pinch of weight, making him look healthy instead of severe and harsh. "Can I help you?" he asked. I shut the car door, drawing his attention to me instead. His mouth fell open. "H? Is that you?"

~~~Question of the Day~~~

If money was irrelevant, what kind of holiday would you go on, where would you go?

I would go across Europe, have fabulous weeks in major cities, spending time in museums and cafes and such. Then, weekends out in quiet villages or remote areas where I could hike and bike or just regroup.