Chapter 1 - 2 Years Earlier

"Anna, the garden is not going to weed itself." Ah, my sweet girl. She's sitting on the porch braiding a dandelion chain, shirking her chores as usual. My mate and I, we always wanted a girl, and third time's the charm. I wish he'd gotten to see her.

At all of 8 years old, she's everything we'd hope she'd be. Smart and sweet, but also stubborn and strong. All red golden curls, just like me, but with more dimples. She's sunshine in a werewolf body. Sometimes I wonder if there's not a wee bit of fae in there somewhere.

"Momma, momma, look what I made you." She skips over to me, looping her finished creation around my neck. I hug her tight, tickling her sides. "I love it! Now see to the garden. We're housing warriors tonight."

"Again!" She pouts momentarily before some likely mischievous thought seems to occur to her, and off she goes. I'd bet a week's chores she's about to con her older brothers into helping, or more likely, doing her job, but no matter, there's much to do. Always is these days, with the war and all.

I worry for my children and my pack. I understand it. Our alpha had no choice. The vampires formed a shady alliance with the dark elves, and soon after, our rogues joined them. The packs had to band together, make a stand, lest we be lost to time. Myths made of our pride.

That doesn't make it any easier, though. So many lives have been lost on both sides—a pointless slaughter for power. I think. No one actually knows what started all this. At least, no one in my social circle. Above my rank. All I know is that I want the bloodshed to end. Not to mention, we're always housing warriors from our pack or another. Feeding more mouths than we have harvest for. We'll all starve if this keeps up.

Being on the edge of the pack lands bordering fae territory nestled on a secure ridge with abundant fresh water, our little farm sees a lot of soldiers, but I can't bring myself to leave. It's funny the things that drew us here, Victor and I, made us love this spot, also make it perfect to house armies. We built this home together from nothing, though, and I won't abandon it or his memory.

No, I'll do what's necessary for my family, my home, my pack, and my alpha. Starting with the washing. More than usual will be here tonight. It'll be a stretch to make enough comfortable sleeping quarters for everyone.

The kids have a good start on dinner, at least. They come running past me with baskets full of greens just as I pin the first linen to the line. Called it. Anna is trailing in the back. Her basket empty, save for wildflowers and some raspberries she's clearly been enjoying while she works from the stains on the collar of her yellow dress.

"Put those in the kitchen and wash up boys," I holler, "and Anna, you can help me with the wash since you didn't get your hands dirty." She sighs yet complies, smiling all along. "Where'd you find the berries? I thought we'd picked them all," I ask.

I truly thought we had. Sugar is hard to find right now, but the local berries offer a little chance at sweet treats to boost morale among family and warriors alike. We try to make them feel at home because they're fighting for our homes.

"It's a secret," she chimes, flashing that trouble-maker grin again. "And, what about your brothers? Do they know where this secret garden is?" I question. I hope that they do. I don't want her alone in the woods. I wouldn't put it past those dark elves to harm an innocent child, and I shudder to think what a vamp could do to her. She hasn't even had her first shift.

She giggles, running into the house, leaving my worries unanswered. My eldest, Thomas, exits as she enters. At 17, he looks so much like his father, tall and sun-kissed, more so when he's worried. His brow furrowed in just the same way. His eyes the same troubled grey.

"Last of the carrots," he says, plopping down on a stump beside me, rubbing his hands together as he continues, "going to be a long winter." "Where did your sister get the berries?" I change the subject. He shouldn't be thinking about how we'll make it through next season. He should be excited to find his mate next year, to find love, to start his life outside this place. He already has responsibilities beyond his age. Worries more than he should. Takes on more than he should. I'll always feel guilt for that.

He grunts, clearly frustrated with me. "Near the tunnel entrance." "You let her go alone?" I ask, looking him in the eye. He would never lie to my face. "No," he answers, "We took a break. I wanted to help her practice the way. She needs to be able to find it without us. The berries were just a happy accident. Not enough for everyone, but enough for her."

It was Thomas who found the tunnel in his curious youth when Victor, he, and I were scouting the lot for a good spot to build our home so many years ago. Hidden under the roots of a massive oak, it's near impossible to see and leads into a cave in the mountain with exits on the other side. It's an emergency plan of sorts for us. If we're ever under attack, the family is to meet in the cave.

After his father was killed by rogues, Thomas made it his mission to ensure no one else in our family was lost. He clung to it like a safety blanket. He's always felt safe in the cave, and he diligently drilled the path to the tunnel into his younger brother and sister's memories, always careful to teach them to take slightly different routes.

He didn't want a trail to become apparent. The biggest advantage of the tunnel is that if you don't know where it is—or aren't a curious child looking for trouble—you'd never find it. I had trouble finding it myself at times, almost like a secret path only the innocence of youth can follow.

"I'm going to expand the trap line into the west woods," he redirects the conversation, "The game there is plentiful. We can't survive on rabbit alone, but it will help bolster our stores." "The west woods are too close to the border," I growl, "I won't have you putting yourself in danger."

That brings him to his feet. "I'm not a pup. I've had my shift. I'm expanding the line. I wasn't asking for your permission. I can handle myself, and I'm not afraid of a bunch of pixies."

"The fae in the west wood may be wood elves, but they're fiercely protective of that forest, and you know it. They don't have the dark magic or hate the dark elves do but trapping on their lands is a risk we don't need to take. They're our neighbors, Thomas. It's unwise to anger them." I try to reason with him as I watch the warriors making their way up the hill, "We can set up more nets in the creek. Build more cold frames. We can grow some greens indoors."

"There aren't enough fish in the creek to meet our needs, because of them,” he points at the approaching envoy, angrily, “and we need meat," he finishes, interrupted as the first SUV kicks up dust near us. "We'll talk about this later," I cut him off.

The warriors don't need to know our business, let alone the Blood Moon gamma. Even the small gesture he made moments ago could mean trouble for us if they saw it. "There's nothing to talk about. I'm setting the traps," he scoffs, walking away from me towards the woods. That boy will be the death of me.