sound of unzipping, and Eloise suddenly appeared out of the darkness. Freya lit her torch and guided Eloise and her sleeping bag into the tent. There was very little space, but somehow they managed to lie flat, side by side.
“Thanks, Freya,” Eloise said in a small voice.
“It’s okay, but you better not snore,” she replied.
*
The second day was harder than the first. They all woke up in pain. Freya couldn’t figure out if she was more sore from the previous day’s exertions, or from sleeping on nothing but a bed roll. Her entire back was stiff, and heaving the pack onto it was a real challenge. They walked slowly, only covering six miles in the entire day. Freya fretted the whole day as they were getting low on water and were due to fall well short of their next water source, but luckily a ‘trail angel’ – people who generously left food and water supplies on the trail for hikers to use – had deposited a large cache of water right at the 15-mile mark. That night, Eloise shared Marin’s tent, and after that, she alternated between the two of them.
And so it went on – walking, looking for water, making food, sleeping, and chatting in snatches here and there. Tempers were often frayed, and little squabbles broke out from time to time. Eloise always lagged the others, and Freya fought to remain as kind to her as she could be. She sensed that Marin was doing the same. And despite the discomfort and the exhaustion that seemed to worsen every day, they were really bonding with each other, sharing their life experiences and dreams for the future. Freya felt herself opening up to the others in a way she’d never done before. Her friends knew that she had no parents, but she’d never really communicated how hard it had been to lose them, that on the day her dad disappeared, she effectively lost them both. She was still waiting for her dad to come back; she acknowledged that. But the irony was that she was so mad at him that, if she saw him, she’d probably punch him square in the face, then never speak to him again.
Things continued in the same fashion for 12 days, and then they changed dramatically. But not at all in a way that any of them could have anticipated.
Chapter Four
His clan didn’t trust him. Xander felt that with every bone of his body. There were whispers and sly looks. No-one dared tease him any more, but he heard himself being referred to as ‘Brains’ in the murmuring voices. And Maximus was so, so hostile towards him. He wouldn’t even look him in the eye, and all conversation was about practical things. Xander sensed that he held him responsible for their father’s death, as if his return had somehow precipitated it.
Xander had never felt so low. His grief for his father was overwhelming. His bear howled and wept almost constantly, making things so much worse.
“At least you got to see him one more time,” his mom told him tearfully. It was a small consolation, but he was also angry at her for not making him come home earlier so he would’ve had more time to spend with him. She was too broken in her own grief to be much comfort to him, and loneliness enveloped him, like a cold, wet blanket. He found himself wishing that he was back in the military, with the easygoing company of the other men who knew nothing about his life, instead of in this tense, difficult environment.
To his surprise, Rocco was the easiest one to be with out of the whole clan. He looked up to Xander to comfort him, and it was a relief to be doing something for somebody else. Rocco wasn’t hostile to him. He’d always admired Xander’s brains, as much as he teased him, and Xander sensed that Rocco believed that he should be Alpha.
One day, five days after they’d buried their father, Rocco came to see him in his cabin with something important to say, and his words shocked him to his core, filling him with a new respect for his little brother.
Xander was lounging in his living room.