But I couldn’t climb a tree in my condition, so Austin led me to an underground bunker. They’d built a few on the property that were four feet deep—not tall enough to stand in, but fairly cozy if you didn’t mind creepy things slithering through the cracks.
Austin lifted the small hatch, which had a cover made of leaves and sticks to keep it concealed.
I stared into the dark hole and clutched his arm. “I don’t like spiders.”
“There aren’t any spiders in there.”
“Then you go first and check.”
Reno had done his best to make the underground hideouts watertight by using cinder block, but stuff could still get through the hatch door.
“Hold this up,” Austin said.
It didn’t open like a regular door but lifted up with hinges in the back. That way we could prop it up a few inches and see what was going on.
Austin’s light shone in the dark hole, and he stomped his foot once. He crawled out of the small space and tossed my bag in. “Your pillow and sleeping bag are sealed up in a trash bag. Your backpack has weapons, but I had Reno put a knife down here just in case.”
I glanced around the woods, unable to see anything but shadows. Our packmates were spread out in the area. Denver was closest to me, and Austin would position himself away from the bunker. He knew rogues would sense his presence and didn’t want to draw them to me.
We held each other in a tight embrace, and he whispered, “I love you.”
A legion of butterflies swarmed in my stomach—the nervous kind. Hearing those words reminded me of what I stood to lose. “Austin, I’m scared.”
He could have said “Don’t be” or just thrown me into the hole, but instead, he whistled with his fingers—three sharp sounds.
Austin shone his light in the direction from where footsteps were quickly approaching. The fog wasn’t as dense, but it left me with an eerie feeling when William emerged as if he were a phantom from a dream. He skidded to a halt so suddenly that his foot slid out from beneath him, and he fell on his ass.
When Denver chortled, Austin snapped his finger to silence him.
“I think something just ripped,” William grumbled, wiping the dirt off his hands after he stood up.
“Change of plans, Will. I want you to sit with Lexi tonight.”
William nodded, his backpack sliding off his shoulder. Austin wanted us to carry them everywhere.
William moved around me, and they talked in low voices while I scanned our surroundings. I knew the property around our house like the back of my hand, but the fog made me uncertain how well I could navigate.
“Hey!” I whispered. “Wipe your shoes before going in there, or take them off.”
“I’m not taking off my shoes,” William protested.
“Then don’t track mud all over the spot where I’ll be sleeping. The left side of the room is yours.”
“Indeed.” After a quick scrape of his shoes with a stick, he hopped in and crouched down. “Cozy.”
I snorted. The bunker was more of a crawlspace, so the only option was to sit or lie down.
Austin cupped my cheeks, planting a kiss on my mouth. I savored it. Every brush of his lips, prickle of his whiskers, and especially the warmth from his hands. “You know where I’ll be. Just remember we’ve got you surrounded. The pack is spread out, with you in the middle. Stay hidden, and if someone gets close enough, use your shots wisely. The archers have the best visibility, so let them thin the herd.”
The archers were Katharine, Melody, Izzy, and Trevor. All had shown exceptional skill with the bow.
The door reminded me of the hood of a car because Reno had installed a metal prop to hold it up if we needed to peer out or get fresh air. Austin held it open while William gave me his hand and helped me step onto the bench in front of the opening.
“Stay quiet in there,” Austin said. “No talking above a whisper, and stay alert. Listen for a level red.”
The hatch door closed and buried us in darkness.
Our alert system came in the form of sounds. Austin had a series of whistles for each person, and everyone knew how to make a dove call with their hands—it was something we sometimes did when sitting on the porch after conversations died down.
“Looks like it’s just you and me, Will.”
He shifted around, searching for a comfortable position.
I rested my back against the wall, my legs outstretched in front of me. “Have you ever delivered a baby before?”
His flashlight immediately clicked on, piercing my eyes.
I laughed. “Just kidding. Get that off of me.”
William reached in his bag and pulled out a thin shirt, draping it over the flashlight to mute the brightness. “Don’t play jokes like that,” he whispered back.
“I keep feeling like I forgot something.”
“Did you turn the stove off?” he asked with a smirk.
“Don’t make jokes like that.”
William brushed his hair away from his face and pinched a few whiskers. “Mustn’t worry about critters, if that’s why your eyes are skating about. If I were in your shoes, I’d be more concerned that I recently ate a can of baked beans.”
I flicked a small pebble at him even though he was just trying to distract me.