Raised by Wolves

Chapter 35

CHAPTER 35

FOR HOLO AND me, survival meant following three life-or-death rules.

Be prepared.

Stay in control.

Don’t do anything stupid.

As the trees rush by and the motorcycle rattles between my legs, I realize that I’m violating all three of them all at once.

This is a terrible mistake.

And there’s nothing I can do about it now.

Leaning forward, I press my chest closer against Waylon’s muscular back. I wrap my arms tighter around his waist. The bike picks up speed. The world turns into a green-and-blue blur.

I can actually feel Waylon’s voice against my rib cage. But I can’t hear what he’s saying, because the roar of the engine drowns it out. My eyes tear up from the wind, and I don’t know where we’re going. If he hits a bump wrong, we’re dead.

Yep, I’m pretty convinced I’m going to die.

Hey, raven, there’s some really fresh roadkill on the Kokanee Highway!

But I also feel more alive than I’ve ever felt before.

Then Waylon slows down, the bike makes a leaning turn, and we come to a gentle stop. He cuts the engine and I half fall off the motorcycle, my legs weak with relief.

“Well?” Waylon asks. “Did you love it?”

What am I supposed to tell him? My brain can’t process what I just went through. A wolf risks its life because it has to eat. A human risks its life for— moving to a different location ?

“It was… intense,” I say. I’ll leave it at that.

Waylon reaches out and lifts the helmet from my head. He frowns. “You look like you were crying.”

“The wind,” I say.

And, okay, maybe just a little bit of panic. Before a few weeks ago, I’d never gone faster than I could run.

When he gently wipes the tears from my cheek, I freeze. I can’t help it.

“You’re doing that thing again,” Waylon says. “Tonic whatever it is.”

“Immobility,” I manage. “Sorry.”

He steps closer to me. It’s overwhelming to be so near him. I don’t understand why, and I don’t know how to control the feelings flooding my body.

He must sense that something has changed between us. He brushes a tangled strand of hair from my face. “It’s okay, Kai,” he says softly. “I like you, too.”

When I was little, I used to spin in circles until my stomach churned and my eyes watered, and when I stopped I could barely stand up. For years, that dizziness was the biggest feeling I knew.

This feeling is bigger.

I can’t bear it, and I turn away. And when I do, I realize that we’re standing in the parking lot of the Grizzly Grocery.

Suddenly I’m not overwhelmed by desire anymore. I’m just angry.

“Why’d you bring me here?” I demand. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“No!” Waylon says. “Never. I told you, all that carrion talk got me hungry.” He grins. “Seriously, though, the Grizzly has the best doughnuts in town. They make them fresh on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and I’m going to buy us a dozen. Maybe even two dozen. I’m feeling dangerous today.”

And now I’m feeling slightly stupid.

I glance over at the door my brother smashed. The glass hasn’t been replaced yet. Instead there’s plywood nailed to the doorframe, and I’m pretty sure I can see the rock that Holo used lying a few feet away on the sidewalk. Guilt flushes my cheeks. “Um, maybe I should wait outside.”

Waylon’s eyes follow mine. He nods in agreement. “Yeah, that’s probably not a bad idea.”

When he comes back, he’s holding a brown paper bag spotted with oil. He reaches in and hands me a warm, sugar-coated circle of dough. “Next time you rob the place,” he says, “just remember that the doughnuts are the only thing worth stealing, and they’re at the end of aisle five.”