CHAPTER EIGHTY EIGHT
The morning dawns cool and misty, the sea spreading its salty wetness into the air. We eat breakfast, but the group is subdued, still mourning the loss of our pack members from the day before, and worn down by the knowledge that the Tijuana and San Diego packs still have dead loved ones to lay to rest back home.
As for me, I’d love to stay in Baja a few more days so we can gather our strength for the journey home, but that just doesn’t seem possible. Stella continues to be fussy and uncomfortable, her sickness getting worse with every passing hour.
“We have to get the dead back to their ancestral caves,” Layla tells me. “Their spirits are restless, and it’s making Stella ill.”
I see the sadness in Juliana’s eyes, and I know it’s not just the Arizona shifters who need our help returning to their final resting place. We also need to get home so we can put our dead to rest and mourn them properly.