Alpha of Smoke

abe

he raised sidewalk that runs along the outside of the shops to keep our boots out of the horse muck, i

her so quickly she near pulls my shoulder out of its socket. Keeping a

ed. She doesn't even turn her head to l

hem anything last night. I'd felt defeated myself and thought there was little chance of us

e rest of the family a few times as busy shoppers exit the businesses around us, stepping into an openin

stern look before turning back around in time to avoid running into a gaggle of children

ells us no matter what our mother may be attempting to speak i

mine from across the room, only a flam

How could we possibly stay here now? W

give it some time and proper thought, bu

ame one my uncle and Mr. Casper were talking about just a few hours before Henry met his demise. Over breakfast, Ma had ranted about how it was likely to be a

coffee and reminded her that we'd promise

s as we approach the old bank building that now serves as a m

Ma's statement. He does that when he don't feel li

the street. My head turns in that direction, and immediate

rays. Four men walk along the walkway, wide smiles on their faces as they take in everything our Tennessee town has to of

side of the street and a team of horses has just raced by, stirring up the dust, I see him as clear as I saw the ba

es me

low inhale, the tilt of his head, the qui

nd he turns away, shiny black hair

zz

yelp escapes my gaping mouth. "Sorry," I mut

ls me I cannot get anything by the steady eyes of a man who was once respon

to the bank for us

Pa takes her hand and leads her to a spot with a little more room. I reach for Robert's hand to pull him along, but he snatches away

and Uncle Tim, whose hands grip his wife's shoulders, follows us with puffy eyes. Next to him, Mr. Casper and his family stand stoic, their heads tipped slight

eople look like they just swam across the ocean and walked from Savannah or some other port city. They're dirty. Thin. Their clothes are worn and wrinkled. A few of them cough into

f miles across forests and prairies, to cross mountains, to

d, another, slightly younger man in marching garbs at his shoulder. "I'm Major Sanders, and this is Burns

is so surprised that we're leaving right away, but then, people begin shak

arle vous English?" His French accent is almost comical,

he back of the room rais

ranslates, which has all the mothers

gle slips out. Ma elbows me hard in t

name?" Sande

m as if he's the Alpha or something. She ste

just doesn't care that he's changed who she is. "Tell 'e

how we're basically all starting a slow march into death'

en as Sanders-and Ginny-explain all the dangers we'll be encountering should we be foolish enough to embark on this jou

les, and she turns to look at him. "Native rogues?" she r

," Sanders tells her. "They still think those lands out west

t native rogues-but they were from a native pack. There's a difference, though I doubt Sanders will have Ginny explain. Some of the packs between here

o budge. They see anyone coming their way as a threat.

, that won't s

nd. Sanders acknowledges him, but his question is in French. Gin

s and Burns. "It ain't theirs if they c

inny says is, "Oui