by Ellie J Duck
In that respect he and Hilton are as different as night and day. He might look like Tobias, but when Tobias smiles, he is so impossibly handsome that it melts my heart and makes me want to beg him to love me. When his brother smiles, I feel a chill slide down my spine. It’s clear that whatever happened to this guy since the last time Tobias saw him, it wasn’t good.
“I thought you were dead?” Tobias says and there is a vulnerable tone in his voice I’ve never heard there before. He looks like he’s been thrown for a loop.
“I wished that I was,” Denali replied and the haunted look that flashes across his face confirms my suspicions. “I spent four years enduring the hospitality of Mum’s relatives.”
Recalling what Tara said about Tobias’s mother being from a family of paranormal hunters I can only imagine the horrors he must’ve endured. I don’t imagine being their relative meant much to them.
“You’re the Alpha here?” Tobias asks, and I notice idly that his left hand is creeping toward me. I hold perfectly still when he touches me, his hand slipping under the hem of my top, palm pressing flat against my hip. He even moves a little bit closer to me, stepping until he is almost behind me, his hand warm as he moves it against my skin, brushing over the Glock 17 I’ve still got tucked into my waistband.
I try very hard to suppress the quiver of desire that overcomes me when he moves his hand around until it is pressed intimately against my abdomen, his fingertips burrowing under the waist band of my jeans, as though needing the strength of my belt pressing on it to keep from doing something crazy.
“I’ve been Alpha almost a year now,” Denali says, and I don’t miss the way his eyes are fixed on his brother, not so much in greeting or happiness at their reunion, but instead with a cold, calculating sort of look.
“And you never thought to let me know you were alive before now?” Tobias demands. I feel a tremor run through him and I realize that the reason he’s touching me so intimately is because he’s at risk of losing his humanity again. I get the feeling that is exactly the Pack’s intention when I see the way they are all looking on expectantly.
Understanding that they mean to have him lose control and become indisposed toward protecting me from them, so they can rip me apart and possibly kill him too, I do the only thing I can think of. I press myself back against his chest firmly until as much of me is touching him as possible and I curl my arm backward, sliding it beneath the hem of his shirt and using my nails to lightly torment his happy spot on his lower back.
Though I can feel the way his whole body responds to the stimulus, I can also tell that by doing it lightly I’ve managed to distract him from the urge to transform.
“Figured you wasn’t interested in hearing from me after you didn’t come looking for me,” Denali shrugs nonchalantly, his eyes narrowing on me when he realizes it won’t be so easy to distract his brother from protecting me now.
“I believe you wanted to see me?” I ask in my most authoritative voice, drawing Denali’s attention away from Tobias.
“Yes, the human bitch they’ve added to the kill squad,” he sneers none too politely. “Rumor reached me that the Council is trying to pass you off as having Bruin genetics and I wanted to see for myself.”
“Satisfied?” I ask drolly, unable to resist the urge to argue with him when he looks so much like Tobias.
“Hardly,” the Lycan responds and I notice the way several of the wolves in the hall begin to shift from foot to foot. “Tell us about your bloodline.”
“I thought bears were supposed to be the curious ones,” I reply, earning myself snarls from around the hall. “But my mother’s name was Isabella Casterson before she married my father, Magnus Cane.”
“You’re Magnus Cane’s daughter?” one of the female Lycans off to the side blurts out, her face paling in terror.
“That’s right,” I reply.
“Then how can you be human?” Denali wants to know, and I glance in his direction once more, noting that he’s taken several steps closer to us.
“I was conceived and born before my father was turned,” I answer truthfully.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were alive, Denali?” Tobias demands with a growl in his voice, clearly growing angry with his brother.
“Why didn’t you try to find me?” Denali counters coldly and in his eyes, I can see that the only reason he survived was because he became a killer. His freedom was bought with the lives of his kin.
“I did try!” Tobias snarls taking a menacing step forwards despite having me pressed against his front. “For weeks I searched for anyone from the Pack and all I found were remains. When Dad disappeared, I was arrested as a runaway and put in the system.”
I narrow my eyes and hold my ground between the pair of brothers when Denali rushes forward with a snarl, standing toe to toe with me as he glares at Tobias.
“You left me there! You knew they’d taken me, and you left me with those evil humans!” Denali snarls at him, looking close to losing control of himself.
“I thought you’d been killed,” Tobias bites back and I dig my nails into his happy spot a bit harder when his fangs lengthen.
“And now you run around protecting the scum of this planet when they deserve to be slaughtered,” Denali spits, his eyes dropping indicatively toward me.
“Did you just call me scum?” I demand indignantly.
The possessive snarl that Tobias unleashes when Denali glares into my eyes makes my whole body vibrate.
“All humans are scum. I don’t care what your bloodline is. If you’re not a paranormal, you’re a human and no human deserves the right to hunt down paranormals.”
“No innocent human deserves to die at the hands of a rogue paranormal,” I retort, the hand I’m not using to distract Tobias sliding under my shirt and withdrawing my gun from inside my waistband. I almost moan when the extraction of it allows more leeway for Hilton to get his hand further under my waistband, but I bite it back in favor of aiming my gun directly at Denali’s right thigh.
When he snarls ferociously in my face, Tobias almost loses it.
“Back off, Alpha,” I snarl, feeling a strange flood of domineering strength pour through me. “Back off, now!”
“Or you’ll what?” he snarls.
“I’ll watch you bleed out on this floor while silver poisoning overtakes your body,” I tell him coldly. “I don’t care who you think you are or what kind of fucked up shit you’ve been through, right now you’re pushing your luck and I will not hesitate to put you down. Are we clear?”
“You think a few silver bullets will be enough to take me down?” he scoffs. “Little girl, I spent four years being tortured daily with silver at the hands of psychotic scumbags bent on hunting down the rest of my Pack. You don’t have enough bullets to put me down.”
“Try me!” I challenge him coldly.
“Enough!” Hilton commands suddenly from behind me, “Back the fuck off, Denali, or I’ll rip your throat out! You invited us here to find proof that Anna is not just a human and you’ve got it. We’re both leaving now, and if any of your Pack try to stop us or try to threaten my team again, so help me God, I will come back here and personally slaughter every one of you!”
The whole Pack look properly scolded and I mourn the loss of his hands on my body when Tobias withdraws, drawing his own guns. Since I left my second Glock in my bag in the car, I resort to drawing my hunting dagger, my gun still clutched in my other hand.
“Easy, little brother,” Denali says quietly and when I glance at him again, I notice that all calculating and assessing glints are gone from his gaze. He suddenly looks calm. Normal. Unnervingly like Tobias. I suspect, too, that the reason is madness. He might still have it together enough now not to have lost control, but he is a werewolf flirting with insanity and she’s drawing him in. I don’t doubt there will come a day when he will go rogue and slaughter innocent people.
“Don’t give me that,” Tobias says shortly, and I wonder if he can se
e it too.
“We’re not going to hurt your little human, Tobias,” Denali assures him.
“She’s not mine,” Tobias says in a tight voice.
“Those sure look like your marks on her flesh,” Denali disagrees, and I feel the color drain from my cheeks in horror that someone has noticed them. I knew I shouldn’t have worn this dress!
Tobias turns toward his brother with a confused expression and I flinch back minutely when Denali points indicatively toward the scarred bite marks on my shoulder where Hilton bit me. Tobias glances at me, his brow creasing in surprise when he narrows his eyes on the blemishes marring my skin. When his eyes jump back to my face, I can see horrified understanding in them.
“It’s complicated,” he mutters darkly to his brother before taking hold of my arm and tugging me out of the hall.
The Pack follows us for a way until we reach what I assume to be the edge of their territory. I hiss in annoyance when we reach the car and Hilton spins on me furiously. He hasn’t said a word since hauling me away from his brother, but I get the feeling he’s about to explode and it’s not going to be pretty.
“You better start talking right now, Cane!” he snarls, holstering his gun and taking hold of my upper arms tightly as he shoves me against the car.
“Ouch!” I snap when he squeezes me tightly, clearly beyond furious.
“TALK!” he shouts in my face.
“Not here,” I reply evenly, trying to keep him from completely flipping his lid.
“Damn it, Cane, you’ve been dodging this shit for days! Just tell me!” he snarls, and I shake my head.
“Not here,” I insist. “I get that you’re pissed, but this is not the place to have this discussion.”
“You better fucking tell me,” he growls, pointing his finger in my face and looking menacing.
“Just drive the car, would you?” I demand, shoving my hands against his chest to get him away from me before climbing inside the front seat once more. He doesn’t say another word as he climbs in and takes off far too fast, flying through the turns until we reach the base.
Chapter Fourteen
Imanage to avoid Hilton for a time longer as we set about unloading the car. I make sure to carry in all the stuff Tara bought for herself in addition to everything else we got for throwing her a birthday celebration.
I escape to my room long enough to change into work-out gear, needing to work off my anger and the nervous energy building in my chest. When I swing by the kitchen, I see a note stuck to the fridge in Greg’s handwriting.
“Gone underground?” I ask, even though Hilton’s not currently in the vicinity.
“He’s been summoned to Faerie, the realm alongside this one,” Hilton’s voice answers from somewhere upstairs.
I choose not to ask questions even though my curiosity is sparked by that. It’s easier if I don’t have to talk to him right now. Dressed in my workout gear – consisting of a sports bra and yoga pants - I make a beeline for the treadmill in the gym, managing to avoid Hilton for several long minutes by doing so.
I squawk in surprise when he comes up beside my machine, also dressed for a workout despite his insistence on speaking instead of running.
He laughs at the noise I make, and I try not to melt into a puddle of goo at the rich sound. He must be in something of a better mood. He even has the decency to snatch me off the treadmill when I wobble precariously as he jerks away the safety tag, stopping the machine. He releases me slowly but spins me to face him before I can move away very far. I glare up into his face in annoyance.
“You lied,” he accuses me before I can grouse at him for manhandling me again.
“What are you talking about?” I play dumb, feigning ignorance of what he’s referring to and making sure to jerk my bra strap over the scars on my shoulder.
“I’m talking about how you lied about what happened the other night. When I lost it.”
“Must you always accuse me of knowing more about your memory loss issues than I do?” I ask him, crossing my arms over my chest and trying very hard indeed to keep my eyes on his face rather than any other part of him, given that, like me, he has removed his shirt for running.
“You lied. I know you lied,” he accuses as though I haven’t spoken.
“To know I lied would indicate that you were also lying. Otherwise you wouldn’t know if I was lying,” I retort, and he narrows those eyes of his on me.
“You lied about what caused me to lose it,” he says. “I know we were doing more than fighting.”
“Then you lied, too,” I reply, a blush staining my cheeks at the idea, assuming he must’ve recalled what happened.
“Why did you lie?” he asks me, and I stare at him for a long moment.
“Why did you?” I ask rather than answering. “If you know what happened, why didn’t you tell the others when Summers asked?”
I regret asking him immediately after doing so, realizing I’ve just given him the perfect opening to tell me how he wants nothing to do with me in any capacity.
“I didn’t want anyone to know what you found,” he shrugs his shoulders and I lose the battle to keep my eyes off his body.
“Found?” I murmur, confused now.
“My ‘happy spot’, as you so eloquently put it,” he clarifies. “You found it.”
“Why do you say that like you can’t decide if it’s a dirty secret or an accomplishment?” I ask.
“No one else knows where it is,” he answers. “And you found it.”
I lift my gaze back to his face at that and I’m surprised to see he looks a little embarrassed about it.
“So, you didn’t tell them because you have a problem with me being the one to find it?” I ask. “Or because of what it caused?”
“Why did you lie about it?” he asks, rather than answering me and I narrow my eyes at him.
“Why does it matter?” I want to know.
“Because if you lied about that, what else have you lied about?” he sneers, and his gaze brightens from copper to orange when I bite my lip to keep any of my secrets from blurting out of my mouth.
“Maybe I lied because I figured you didn’t remember and why should you have to walk around being an ass and feeling disgusted over it when you’d been given the chance to forget it ever happened?” I answer, tearing my eyes off him and walking back toward the treadmill, hoping that running will make me feel better about the reminder that if he ever knew we’d shagged he’d probably shoot himself in the head on purpose.
“How low an opinion do you think I have of you?” he asks me seriously, stalking along next to me and intercepting me before I can get on the treadmill.
“You’ve made it perfectly clear that you despise the fact that I’m human and given how often you make comments about how I shouldn’t be on the team and how often you pick fights with me, it’s no secret that you don’t like me, Hilton. Not to mention, you lost your shit the other day and made sure to inform me that you thought I was a waste of space,” I reply through gritted teeth. “Excuse me if I didn’t want to have to deal with your reaction upon finding out what we did.”
“What we did?” he presses, and I pause, glancing back at his face. Maybe he only remembers kissing me when I first found his happy spot.
“Um… How much do you remember exactly?” I ask him, frowning now.
“I know I kissed you when you wouldn’t leave my happy spot alone,” he says, eyeing me now as though he suspects there’s a lot more. Which there is but I’m not about to tell him that if I don’t have to.
“You were trying to get your hands inside my shirt. What did you think I was going to do? Lie down and let you?” I snap, shoving past him when he keeps getting in my way as I try to reach my treadmill.
“I also recall you straddling me and taking my gun from me and threatening to shoot me if I didn’t shut up about the entire situation,” he says, pinching the safety tag from my treadmill again so that it won’t start.
“And yet her
e you are, pestering me about it again as though I didn’t cause you to lose control of yourself for pushing the issue last time,” I say scathingly, stepping off my machine and onto Tara’s before curling my lip and snarling at him in a particularly animalistic display of frustration when he takes the safety key from every machine so that I can’t run.
Hilton crosses his arms, eyeing me strangely.
“You really expect me to believe that nothing happened even though you just snarled at me like any Shifter would and when you’ve got my bite marks scarred into your flesh?” he asks me seriously. I sigh in frustration before deciding the answer to this problem is ice-cream, lots and lots of ice-cream. Preferably of the chocolate variety. Shoving past him once more without speaking, I stalk out of the gym and back through the base to the kitchen.
“Ignoring me isn’t going to work, little human,” he tells me sounding equal parts annoyed and amused.
“I don’t know what you’re hoping to have me tell you, Hilton,” I answer setting to work on digging out as much ice-cream as I can. “What, exactly, do you want to hear?”
“The truth. Why did my sheets smell like you?” he asks me, snagging a pint of butterscotch ice-cream from the freezer and not even bothering with a bowl.
“We covered this outside the other night,” I glare at him.
“And I don’t think you’re being truthful,” he retorts. “All I know is my bed smelt like you, I smelt like you, and I woke up feeling like I’d spent the entire night shagging. Hard. You’ve been avoiding me ever since and I don’t remember a damn thing. Not to mention you’re lying to me and to the rest of the team about how much you know, both about the other night when I went lupine and when you got captured.”
“What are you hoping to hear?” I demand again. “How many times do I have to tell you that just maybe you’re better off not knowing? That Novikov used mind control on you and on me and that whatever you do or don’t remember is probably the only thing protecting you from going lupine and totally freaking out? Is that what you want to hear?”
“Why do you keep doing that?” he asks suddenly, and I realize that in my agitation I’ve begun scratching viciously at the scars he left on my shoulder.
