While he drove, the Singer slept. She lay curled up into a ball in the front seat, snoring lightly. Bran smiled to himself as he passed Coeur d'alene on the freeway. Home is only about three hours away. It was a gorgeous sight with the sunset in the distance. All he could hear was the noise of the road. He preferred quiet when he drove, it gives time to think peacefully.
There was a vibration in his pocket. Unsafely, Bran pulled out his phone; a text message from Leah.
"Where are you?"
Sighing, he tossed the phone into the back seat of his truck. Of course she has the right as his mate to express concern, but he is not obligated to reply.
The Wolf next to him whimpered and shifted her position from curled up to sprawled out, her back feet ever so slightly touching his leg. The reason he left so early with her was that now, the Singer could actually be a Wolf. It was essential for a someone so young to learn how empowering the feeling of hunting is. To run with the pack and in her case; share the Lunar Magic that she could harness. She would need a pack to help her through what happened to her.
Another vibration broke his morbid thoughts causing him to swerve into the next lane. The Prius next to him honked their horn several times. Bran glared at the driver with his eyes slightly yellowed and some teeth showing, they immediately slowed to fifty miles per hour and diffidently dropped behind him. Getting back to the irritant who interrupted his train of thought, Bran reached back and looked at his phone.
Yet another text from Leah.
"Why do you do this to me?"
In his mind, Bran told her that he is traveling home.
Bran was used to her nonsense, some days were better than others. He puts up with it because its a necessity to cage the Beast that lurked inside of his soul. A beast that the Singer could possibly help tame. Lunar Magic is powerful but a rarity. Basically, a Singer is a chosen Werewolf shares a connection from the mother Moon. Bran wasn't sure if the Moon is a live entity or not however, he can feel her presence at night, aiding him and the Wolf inside of him.
The Singer stirred in her sleep and her breathing got heavier. Bran could hear her heart rate increase. He wondered what happened to her, what haunts her dreams? There is a rumor that he could read minds; it was half true.
People aren't that hard to figure out. Once he has been with someone for a certain amount of time, he could tell how their minds function. Emotions give off specific scents making it all the more easy to know what they are thinking. If someone is in his pack, Bran could also use pack bonds to see their thoughts. Being an old alpha had its perks.
He wanted to speak with her. All that was confirmed over a phone call to Charles was that her name is Dove Miller, born in Spokane Washington, 17 years old. She was reported missing several months ago, believed to be a victim of the estranged case of a serial murderer and rapist along with her best friend, Jane Clark. Bran would look into her history when he arrives at home. They were almost there.
The passenger suddenly jerked causing Bran to stomp on the brakes, the owner of the Prius dodged and passed him.
She was sitting upright, squishing herself against the door and eying Bran cautiously. He started driving again, keeping her in his peripheral vision. For what seemed hours, they rode in silence, just looking at each other. The noise of the road was faint now as the two Wolves breathes synchronized. Time seemed to freeze for Dove as the Wolf inside her whispered.
"The Protector."
Relaxing slightly, Dove laid herself down onto the seat with her head on her paws, never looking away.
By the time Bran turned onto a clay road with a sign that read Aspen Creek, night had fallen.
Dove looked up at the crescent Moon then turned to Bran with a perplexed expression on her face.
"You were asleep at Adam's for two days after the fight," Bran said simply.
It was a pain for him because he couldn't be there the whole time, so he had Samuel's mate, Ariana look after her.
Dove spied two deer in the middle of the road and started whining and pawed at the window. Bran looked over with a chuckle.
"Have you ever hunted?" Dove pondered the question for a few seconds and shook her head. There was an audible growl in the truck, it came from her stomach.
Bran retreated to his own thoughts. How long had she been gone hungry? Just how long did she put up with torture for the sake of someone she loved? Would the Singer recover?
Bran slowed the truck to thirty miles per hour on the gravel roads, in the distance there was a neon light illuminating the small town. He pulls into the gas station and parks by a pump. The two Wolves sat in silence. They both sat forward, looking into the darkness of the Montana night. Moments passed before Bran swiftly opened the door, jumped out, and slammed it shut leaving the Singer to her thoughts. Did she do something to make him upset? Where was she?
Dove was pondering when her other half told her to look over.
Standing on the corner of the gas station, in the shadows, was a figure of a man. And he was just staring. This made her uneasy. Though she could see clearly in the dark, the man seemed to be made of the night itself. Bran walked right by him, as if he didn't notice. Dove growled and attacked the window, scratching it up. Telling the man to leave; he didn't budge. The figure simply stood while Bran pumped the gas. She had to get his attention.
Jumping to the back, Dove slammed herself into the seat. Then again. And again. Growling loudly, forced her two front paws on the window, shaking the whole truck. She looked over, the figure had moved closer. Fully alert, Dove howled and slammed herself against the window.
Bran opened the truck door and peered in.
"Move!" Dove ordered with her mind. He obediently stepped to the side.
She sprang from the front seat and landed gracefully on all fours. By that time, the figure had faded into smoke and drifted away into the air. Bewildered, Dove circled the entire station with her nose to the ground, she came up with nothing. Not even a scent. When she emerged from behind the building, Bran was leaning against the passenger's side of the truck with a concerned expression settled onto not only his face.
She sat about ten feet away from him and whined.
"I understand that you see what most nobody else does." Bran explained. "Thank you for the warning, though I don't know what it was or what I could do."
Bowing her head, Dove apologized. There was a hand on the back of her neck. It was comforting, a touch that didn't hurt. His hands didn't hurt. There was a gust of wind that brought her back to reality.
There was no one for her to go back to, no home, no hope. Her insides hardened. Dwelling will make it hurt worse. Sensing what she was thinking Bran piped up.
"I received a phone call while driving. Your friend, Jane is fine and adapting well living with Stefan."
Dove eyed him.
He gave a one sided grin.
"Stefan is trustable, especially for a Vampire. She will be fine. From what I hear, Jane has taken a... liking to him." Bran had a serious face but but a humorous voice.
Dove grunted, blatantly annoyed. Stupid boys.
"Lets head off," he paused. "Dove."
She rose to all fours and trotted to the open truck door and hopped in. Bran grabbed the handle and gently shut the door.
Bran got in and turned the key, the truck purred to life. Dove jumped with excitement, she had forgotten how much she adored trucks.
Panting, she stepped on the window switch. Going fifty miles an hour down the highway, she stuck her head out of the window. It was fun! Wind whipped her face as she stuck her tongue out.
Bran laughed at her. Smiling, he thought that time will heal her wounds.
When he slowed down to go into his driveway, something changed.
Her attitude altered completely as they approached the house. The pretty house stood tall and bright. All of the lights were on and Dove could see multiple people sitting inside. It was too comfortable. A home she didn't deserve.
Bran slowly got out and walked around the front of the truck, hope fading. He let her out cautiously. Before he could say anything, Dove was already ten feet away from him, looking up, abashed. She looked up at his eyes then to the tree line. He knew what she wanted.
He nodded.
And she was off towards the trees.
"Have you seen her, Da?" Inquired Charles.
"No. I've tried talking through mind and nothing." Replied the Marrok, slightly irritated. Dove had been gone for a week which sparked worry. He had already got a call from Mercy, it didn't go well.
"I suppose that its time to go for a run."
"Anna and I will be right over."
