They’d probably made her so easy to rescue so they could watch and see what would happen.
“Lake.”
She dressed herself fast, ignoring the pull from the plea in his voice.
“This was a bad idea. Consider yourself lucky I came to my senses. You and me? We can’t happen.”
“Why exactly? Because not one minute ago, I was going to make you come over and over again. That’s called happening in my book. So I’m going to need a better reason.”
She swallowed. Perhaps she owed him the truth. Only she knew what would happen if she did. He’d devote himself to fixing her, to figuring out how to make this better. It would waste time and energy he should be devoting elsewhere. He had to find the children who were kidnapped. She needed him to do that for her before she lost her mind. The kids had to be rescued.
Whatever happened next, when her death came—the Moon greeting her, a version of the human ever-after, or nothing at all—she had to leave knowing she’d managed to get those children safe. Something had happened when she’d been gone, something she couldn’t remember, and it had to do with saving the young pups. She couldn’t fail at her task.
Beaux had to believe her.
“I came to my senses. Why would I purposefully tie myself here? In the middle of nowhere? With you?”
Her heart beat so fast she thought it might explode from her chest. Minutes earlier she’d mused that she couldn’t lie to him. Now, she had no choice. She had to make Beaux leave her alone because if he pushed she would crumble.
“Is that so?” He growled, and the wolf pulsed in his eyes.
“Yep. It suddenly dawned on me you meant it about having some stupid notion of biting me, of actually going through with the damn mating. I’d thought you were kidding. Pretending at a mating is something we do where we’re from. When I realized—”
“Enough.” His voice boomed through the room and he stalked forward. “You think I can’t smell fabrication? I can scent it miles away. Tell your lies, make up whatever you want. Do it knowing I see right through you. Keep telling yourself you mean it. If lying makes you feel better.”
She wouldn’t tie him to her, wouldn’t let him mate her before she died. He’d lost a mate once. To knowingly cause him pain…she couldn’t live with it. And whatever they’d given her, the drugs, what if she could somehow pass it on to him?
They couldn’t be together no matter how much she might wish differently. Despite his assurances, this wasn’t meant to be.
“Start speaking the truth or get out of my sight.”
“Gladly.”
Lake turned on her heel and fled. Her hands shook, and her knees threatened to buckle. Maybe she was shaking so violently because of her impending death or because she’d shoved Beaux from her body when all she’d wanted to do was beg him to make it better.
She had to be brave. For the kids. For Beaux. For all of them. It was too late for her. Not for them.
Chapter Seven
His balls had been aching for eight excruciating hours. That had to be some kind of record for a werewolf. Beaux dropped to the ground, going down for another push up. He needed to keep his wolf at bay. The need to shift was powerful, and, since the full moon had passed, he shouldn’t feel so compelled to change.
Since he’d been told to get out of Lake’s body without completion, his own body screamed for some kind of release, and he might have to give in and change without the protection of the full moon.
He growled. What had happened? One second, they’d been seconds from mating; the next, she had put on her brat mask and sent him from her body. No meant no, unless they had previously agreed something else meant no. They hadn’t discussed it. If she wanted him off, he would obey.
Even if every part of him had wanted to tell her he wasn’t going anywhere. How the hell was he supposed to reconcile two different desires? The need to give her what she wanted and knowing what she needed—which was more important?
Maybe next time he’d tie her down and demand she recognize what was between them.
He smelled the approach of Joel, one of his second-in-commands, before he saw him. He was not surprised. His pack was finally seeking him out. He’d been off-schedule most of the morning. They’d be worried by now.
“My Alpha?”
Beaux stopped his exercise and stood. “Joel.”
“All is well?”
No. Not even close.
“Sure.”
They’d scent the lie and hopefully leave it alone. He tried not to delve into their business when he could avoid it. Just because they could smell each last little thought didn’t mean he had to be a busybody about it. Wasn’t that what Lake would say? Didn’t Cyrus’ pack mind their own business?
Beaux shook his head. Damn it, his thoughts were becoming much more like Cyrus’ than he would like. Why bother contemplating the fact they could smell the way they did at all? They could. Werewolves always had. Rationalizing what had always been, trying to make sense of the unexplainable, was a human problem, not his.
“Well, then, my Alpha, I have to tell you the Alphas are here.”
He nodded. Beaux would have been shocked if they hadn’t arrived swiftly. Missing children. Kidnapped Healers. Both were things the strong Alphas would want to pay attention to. And much as Beaux might disagree with many of them on some fundamental issues, the group gathering took their roles seriously.
“Have they been given places to stay?”
Joel nodded. “They have.”
Pomp and circumstance held little interest for him. They weren’t going to have any kind of a ceremony. As long as everyone behaved, they would do well enough. They’d gathered to work together, not to sing Kumbaya. The Alphas could check their egos at the door.
Joel hadn’t moved, so Beaux turned back to him.
“Something else?”
“Cyrus wants to see you right away. He says either you make the time or he’s seeking out Lake before speaking to you.”
Beaux shrugged. “Let him.”
Joel nodded his head before heading in the direction of the houses where the Alphas had been put.
Beaux tried to ignore the burn in his gut. He had meant to discuss with Lake why he had gone ahead and invited Cyrus despite her statements about his lack of usefulness in these situations. The Alpha of New York might not be a tracker, but, if he didn’t get an invite, he’d have a cow. Right then, the last thing Beaux wanted was drama. Cyrus screaming over the phone about being left out would accomplish nothing. The man had treaties—such a non-wolf maneuver—with Philadelphia and Boston. Enough lamenting on his part, and it was possible both those Alphas would refuse to participate. Unlike Cyrus, Beaux suspected Travis and Alexei would be useful in this hunt.
Since Beaux’s Mate had thrown him from her body, refused their mating, and then spewed hate-filled lies at him, he hadn’t really felt compelled to share.
Let Cyrus go spend time with Lake. Any intentions Beaux had held about establishing their mating before letting Cyrus into their lives would obviously not be fulfilled.
“You’re a stubborn SOB.”
Beaux whirled around to find Cyrus, standing deliberately downwind of him, leaning against a tree.
“So you still remember how to hide your scent? How country of you, Cyrus. I imagine it’s not often necessary in the big city.”
Although Lake had told him they all hid themselves from each other, he couldn’t resist the urge to taunt Cyrus. Beaux wanted to hate him. It would be so easy. They’d been surrounded by the elite Alphas when invited to the training farm run by Lucian, the late Alpha Prime, over the course of several summers. They’d all been equals. Then Beaux’s invitations had stopped coming, and Cyrus’ had continued. The chosen few. Born to look down on the others.
And yet, when they were together, Beaux had to grudgingly admit, if only to himself, Cyrus could be an amusing companion—when Beaux didn’t want to kill him.
“You might be surprised what skil
ls we find useful in New York.”
He shook his head. “I doubt it. Why are you talking to me? I thought you wanted Lake.”
“I do wish to see her. Despite my bluster, I know when I need to say thank you. Without your tracking, they’d still have her.”
“She’s my mate.” Even if he never got to feel the sweet release between her thighs and the ease of tension in his jaw from finally claiming her with his bite. “Of course I found her.”
Cyrus nodded before he furrowed his brow. “And it was Lake who saw these missing children? While she was taken?”
“Correct.”
Beaux stood up. If they were going to have an interrogation, he didn’t want to be in a position of submission to Cyrus. This was Beaux’s turf. Cyrus would do well to remember it.
Beaux rubbed his head at the thought. Maybe they should do the ceremony to welcome the Alphas. Perhaps there was a reason they had to establish an order of dominance.
Damn it. He hated this shit.
“I’m not sure how to broach this conversation….”
Beaux snarled, kicking a rock out of the way.
“Damn it, Cyrus. We’re werewolves, not humans. If you have something to say, get it over with already. I assume you didn’t come here to talk to me about your everlasting gratitude.”
“I’m concerned you’re going to be sending us out on a wild goose chase.”
Now those words he hadn’t expected. He schooled his face and kept his emotions in check. No discernable scent came off Cyrus. If the other Alpha felt the need to hide, Beaux would do the same. Compromises, he hated making them.
“Why?”
Beaux cocked his head to the side. The winds were changing. He could smell salt. A storm would descend in the next few days from somewhere with a coastline. He clenched his jaw. In his neck of the woods, salt meant snow. Normally that wasn’t a problem, but, if the white stuff flew in while the city wolves were still in his territory, they’d probably start whining, and he needed complaining like he needed to get torn apart by a bear.
“Because when she was young she wasn’t exactly right in the head.”
Beaux smelled Lake in the distance. She was downwind yet close. Clearly, she didn’t disguise her approach as well as her brother did. He preferred knowing she was around, and, from the way Cyrus raised his eyebrows, he suspected her brother had cued into her presence as well.
Had she heard them? Well, Beaux didn’t know, but the possibility existed.
“Are you suggesting my mate is crazy or she made up stories? Because she’s either not well or she’s a liar based on what you said, and I scent neither of those things from her.”
He couldn’t help but remember how strongly she reacted to being questioned about Arlow. Her trigger made more sense now.
Cyrus needed a good pounding. Beaux would be happy to be the one to give it to him. He’d taken him before.
His mate’s brother held his hands out in front of himself. “Down boy.”
“Don’t you talk to me like that, you stuck-up….”
Before Beaux could stop himself, he launched himself forward. He itched to shift, yet he held back. Cyrus growled but didn’t move to stop Beaux smashing into him. With his elbow, Beaux held Cyrus’ shoulder to the ground while he pointed his finger in the man’s face.
“You don’t talk about Lake in any disrespectful manner. Ever. And you don’t taunt me, or you can get the hell off my land.”
“You know I could break you in two if I wanted to.”
Beaux snarled. “Want to try?”
“No.”
Cyrus shoved at him and Beaux got off him; straightening his shirt as he eyed the other Alpha. They needed to get off this topic and fast, or he might give in to the ache in his gums meant for Lake and let himself taste someone else’s blood soon.
“When is the baby due?”
“Two more months.” Cyrus smiled as he stared off into the distance. “I came because I can’t imagine if the child I haven’t met yet were to vanish. Such a thought is so completely horrifying to me, to the point I’d destroy cities to find him or her and I’ve never laid eyes on the child’s face yet.”
“How…touching.”
Maybe this was his fault. He’d asked about the pregnancy and now they were going to touch on emotional stuff. Talking to Cyrus was like walking a damned tightrope that kept swinging around.
Cyrus huffed. “I wasn’t done with my story.”
“I guess I was hoping you were.”
“Fuck you. I’m finishing.” Cyrus shook his head. “So I’m here because if there is a possibility any parents are out there missing their kids, I have to help find them. However, she thinks she did. She’s not necessarily stable. And I’m going to say the same thing until you listen, even if you pummel me again.”
Lake stepped out from where she had hidden herself in the trees. Beaux spared her a glance before turning back to Cyrus. His mate was a sore subject for him right then, yet he couldn’t permit her to be insulted, certainly not by her brother. If a physical assault wouldn’t stop him, he’d have to be taught another way.
“Does she smell unwell to you?” Beaux opened his mouth to show his teeth. “Do you taste metal when she’s around? Make your nose itch?”
‘That’s the thing. She never did. But the things she saw as a child—before Mom and Dad managed to drive it all away—never happened. I’m concerned whatever happened with the True Believers has brought it all back.”
Lake stepped closer, and Beaux held out his hand to stop her approach. His pulse slowed when she obeyed. The last thing he needed was to air their dirty laundry to her brother.
“Lake knows almost nothing about werewolf history. Do you?”
He took a step in her direction, putting himself between Cyrus and Lake. He would always come between them if that is what it took to keep her safe, particularly from her brother’s emotional abuse.
“Is this relevant to what we’re talking about or are you planning on launching into one of your diatribes about the problems with werewolves in today’s society?”
Beaux ground his teeth together. He forced himself to swallow his anger.
“Do you know about the Healer Prime?”
Cyrus opened and closed his mouth. Two scents hit him at once. Confusion from Lake, which didn’t surprise him—he knew she had no idea who the Healer Prime was— and shock from Cyrus before he stored it away.
Beaux could pretend he didn’t smell the surprise. He could. Only he wasn’t going to.
“So then you do know what I refer to.”
Cyrus nodded. “Shit.”
“Shit” wouldn’t have been the word Beaux would have chosen. But it kind of did fit.
“Well, someone needs to explain it to me.” Lake’s voice tore into the open space between them. “Since you seem to think this has to do with me.”
He turned to look at her. She was so beautiful he had to catch his breath to stop himself from sighing. The woman had thrown him out from between her legs, and, like some pathetic, pitiable creature, he wanted nothing more than to give it another go. Next time, she’d come to him. When Lake wanted to be fucked, when she wanted to fulfill their mating, she’d have to make it happen.
For now, he could play with her. Give her a taste of what she was missing….
“Look it up.”
She put her hands on her hips, and a strand of blonde hair fell down in front of her eyes. He wished he had a camera to capture the moment. He’d caption the photo “Temper-Temper.”
“Excuse me?” She tilted up her chin. Good girl. “Want to try your answer again?”
“Nope. Why don’t you and Cyrus research it together? He can refresh his memory, and you can read all about it. I have a complete library in my house. Have at it.”
Sometimes he couldn’t manage to take the higher road.
****
Alexei Babikov, Boston and some of the territory north of the city. Travis Michaels, Philadelphia. Savage C
haucer, San Francisco, and his younger brother, Hayden, who controlled a small pack in Napa. Carson Smith, who controlled New Orleans. Milo Shephard, Los Angeles. And, finally, Kennedy Toledo, from Houston.
He’d called for Alphas and these were the ones who showed up. Not a bad turn out, each one a powerful Alpha in his own right. There were some noticeable absences, but Beaux wasn’t going to worry about who wasn’t there. Better to concentrate on who was.
None of the Alphas resembled each other, not even the Chaucer brothers. Savage was dark—when he’d taken the time to care about human trends, Savage would have been called Goth, though maybe they called it something else now—the Alpha wore dark eyeliner under his eyes. Beaux couldn’t imagine taking the time to make himself up every day.
Savage’s brother, in contrast, looked more like a farmer. Hayden wore worn-out jeans and a plaid flannel shirt with rolled-up sleeves. He had the look—and scent—of a man who was well contented with his place in life. No unusual angst from Hayden, likely due to his recent mating. Beaux wouldn’t mind some contentment himself. But Beaux’s mate was probably off fuming somewhere or coming up with strange feminine reasons only she understood for deciding they shouldn’t be together.
The Moon helps the werewolf who tried to understand his mate.
Travis Michaels looked more like he belonged in an MC club than at the head of a Pack. From all accounts, his pack mates loved him. His inked-up body and perpetual scowl hadn’t put off his mate.
Beaux did a quick head count; out of everyone in the room only Hayden, Travis, and Cyrus—jackass that he was—were mated. The other Alphas had yet to either find a True Mating or choose a life with a mate whom they loved but who had not been ordained by the Moon.
It surprised him the others had not mated. Even he had given in and wed a woman he knew wasn’t his True Mate to try to have a life worth living. If she hadn’t died, they’d still be together. Why had so many of Lucian’s chosen few remained alone?
Carson Smith had bleached-blond hair and eyes so dark they reminded Beaux of how pitch black it could get in Montana when the moon was shielded in the sky. He had a lethal reputation and a bad temper. Yet his pack remained loyal and there had never been a sound of discontentment from the Crescent City.
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