He did not know how he felt about his conversation with Inna and Lorcán, or if they understood the reason behind his frustration. The ghost understood why they had reacted the way the did, for he knew that both Askan and Reyes were not known to bite their tongue, but that was not an acceptable reason to abolish an alliance. Not when Lachesis had worked so hard to preserve the relationship between Hearthwood and Wild Rye. Did they not think that Jessie would punish her subordinates for their actions? XIX knew that Inna was still recovering from the loss of her mother and obviously took the words of the opinionated Rye wolves to heart. He just wished she had not reacted so boldly, as though she was in charge of Hearthwood not him. It did not matter that her mother lead the pack alongside him—he was the leader. Maksim had trusted him to lead the river wolves (for whatever reason). This was his pack. The Baranski name did not mean Inna was entitled to lead the pack. She would have to earn her place at the top, just like both Lilya and Lachesis had.
He headed west, leaving just after the moon started to fall from it's peak in the night sky. Although he wanted to speak with Jessie and apologize to her for the actions of his subordinates he was not ready to do so yet. Not until the dust had settled in Hearthwood. As much as he wanted to bring Lilya along with him he knew he couldn’t. Not while things were so tense. She needed to keep things under control while he was away, but perhaps he would bring Lavender or Lilliana—show them a bit of the lowlands. He would have to discuss with the blue-eyed sparrow, of course, for if she really wanted to visit her friend in the Fields he would allow her to go. One of them needed to.
And to think, while Inna and Lorcán were gone, the alpha pair had had a wonderful meeting with Jessie’s mate, Drestig, and their scout, Adelayde.
He would leave soon. Once he returned to Hearthwood after this excursion he would discuss his plans with Lilya. XIX did not want to wait too long to apologize, for he worried that the Rye wolves would take the raven’s words to heart, even if he had assured Reyes that their alliance was still intact.
He meandered along the moss-covered rocks as the sun broke across the horizon. His shoulders sagging, bearing the weight of his increasing stress, as his paws dragged sluggishly along the ground. The trickling stream was not the same as the lake he preferred to visit but he needed a change of scenery—where the chance of him running into a familiar face was low.
stick with those who stick with you