The Society Series Box Set 2

by Mason Sabre

  His nod at her answer … at her dig at him, only lit the fury in her belly more. She felt it the moment she came into the room, like a kindling suddenly sparking back into life. He went over to his desk, to the files and took the top one, an envelope. He offered it to her. Making her take the last steps if she were to take it. Part of her contemplated not going. To push the boundaries of her disrespect.

  Even as she saw the official stamp in the corner as she pulled the papers out, her heart sank to her knees. She gripped the edge of the paper, her jaw clenching.

  “We have the test results back,” her father said. “You and Karl are a match.”

  Gemma went tiger still, her predatory temper threatening to spill out and take over. She pulled out the papers. Procreation compatible. Anger flared under her collar, colouring her vision red. “You will really do this?” she asked, staring up at her father, accusation and hurt in her eyes. For a second, she thought she saw it reflected, but maybe that was just hope … hope he would stop what he was doing and think of her first. She swallowed down her pulse. Her heart beat wildly in her chest.

  “I began proceedings this morning.” His voice was flat and devoid of emotion. He tossed his copy of the paperwork back onto his desk like it was nothing … like it wasn’t the anvil that had just smashed through the roof of her life. It was a duplicate of what she held in her hand, but still, she wanted to tear it up. To rip every part of it to shreds. “I got the Council to agree. It’s all been signed off. We’ll meet with Karl’s parents this afternoon.”

  Gemma bit on her lip, and she glanced over to her mother. Emily stared right back at her, clearly in full agreement of what Malcolm was doing. “Are you doing this because you're mad with me?” she asked, hating the way her voice sounded. “Is this punishment?”

  “I am doing this to keep you safe. Karl and his family will join us tonight, too. We will announce it to the pack, assuming Karl agrees to the signing.”

  “Karl gets a choice?”

  Malcolm didn’t offer her an answer. Karl got a choice in it. “They will run in front with us.”

  She shook her head in disbelief at him. At his words. “What will you tell them when I don’t run with the pack tonight? How will that look to the future in-laws?” She was still banned from shifting, and pack runs were important—a gathering, but they had structure. They called it ‘running at the front,’ but actually, they ran at the back, at the very end. The alpha family—her family, were deemed the strongest and the strongest always ran behind, keeping the rest of the pack in their sights and keeping them safe. Being up front referred more to the feeding than the run itself. They might have run at the back, but when the food was caught, they ate first.

  “I have also invited them to eat with us.”

  “Father…”

  He raised a hand and shook his head. “No. Whatever your complaint is, it can stay with you. Enough now. It is time to take your place.”

  “This is my life … me. You sign it away like it is nothing.” Hot tears burned the back of her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall, didn’t let her father see how much he was hurting her.

  “I am saving your life,” he said, his words harsh, thick with an emotion he didn’t normally show. “You and Cade. It has to stop. This is the only way I can protect you.”

  “By whoring me out?” She clamped down her jaw, regretting her accusation immediately, but it was what she felt. “You never forced Stephen into a mating.”

  “Stephen wasn’t trying to get his name on an execution order.”

  Anger coated the back of Gemma’s throat. It was thick and heavy and ready to make her retch. She clutched the papers to her, but they were poison, and she wanted to throw them in the bin ... erase them. If it would have worked, she’d have done it.

  “Are you going to show Karl’s parents I can't shift too?” she said. “I am sure they would love that. Their son mating with me.”

  “You will shift,” Malcolm said, meeting her glare.

  She crossed her arms over her chest and the paperwork. “I am not allowed to. You forbade it.”

  He took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes for a second. And, for that second, Gemma saw the glimpse of her dad … not her father, not her alpha, but the man who loved his daughter. He was gone a heartbeat later. “And now I am telling you, you are.” He shook his head at her. “You don’t normally have a problem breaking rules, why stop now?”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “There is no, don’t. You will take your place by my side and Karl will stand with you.”

  Her tiger flexed its claws inside her. The animal part of her wanted a mate. She wanted the wolf, but she would settle for Karl … a tiger. They had met, met and raced and fed together already. She had tasted him and liked what she found, but Gemma tried to place Karl in a position of dislike. Tried to push him away. Even that was impossible. It just seemed to confuse her mind, and her animal.

  They could hate her father, though. Tiger and woman could loathe the feeling of being out of control. Of having no say in her life. She was not a pawn … not a toy for her father to play political moves with.

  Defeated, Gemma stepped back and sat herself on the chair near the door. They were decoration, mostly, chairs to the office that no one used, but Gemma needed to sit, and the only other seat was near to her mother and she didn’t want to be close to her now, either.

  “I know you probably hate us,” Emily said after a few long minutes had passed. “I know you probably think we’re doing this to be cruel.”

  “You supported me … us,” Gemma said.

  Emily said nothing, but instead rose from her seat to come over. Gemma thought about running away, about standing up and racing out of the room and away from them, but she didn’t have the energy to fight. Didn’t have the spark for it.

  “Trevor knows too,” Malcom said from behind her mother.

  Gemma tucked her hair behind her ears, and stared up at her father, feeling the weight of those words. Trevor knew …

  Emily grabbed Gemma’s hand, startling her. She had forgotten she was moving closer. She went to snatch her hand away, but her mother held her. “Is Karl so bad?”

  No. He wasn’t. But he wasn’t Cade. Why couldn’t either of them see that? Why couldn’t they understand? They could mate her with the best tiger they could find, and he still wouldn’t be Cade.

  “Does Cade know too?”

  Malcolm nodded. “I told him this morning.”

  Bile rose in Gemma’s throat at her father’s words. He couldn’t have hurt her more if he had hit her. She was winded, dying. Her tiger winced inside at the words. She’d lost her wolf and there was nothing she could do about it. Nothing she could say.

  “Cade’s mating is going through,” he added. “This is over now.”

  “Dad …” She bit back the sting of tears and the pain of betrayal, but they took her breaths from her. She could do nothing but sit there and shake and let it all wash down her skin. She clenched her entire body, trying to grind it to a halt, but when her vision waned, she had to let the mental gates close before she lost herself too.

  Natalie…

  She tried to hate her, tried to lump her along with Karl, but this was neither of their faults. She pulled her hand from her mother’s. “May I be excused?” She didn’t want her comfort. Didn’t want the fakeness of it all as she tried to hold her all the while, letting the pack and her father take every shred of her soul. “I want to go for a walk.”

  “You stay on the land,” her father said.

  She nodded, holding her breath. Everything pressed down on her, like a hand pushing at her insides and making her want to run away. Emily moved, letting her daughter go.

  “I don’t do these things to hurt you,” her father said when she was at the door. “You can hate me if you want to, but my actions are because you are my daughter.”

  She paused, saying nothing. Her heart twisted in her chest, breaking at the impossible situation of
it all.

  “One day, you will understand,” he added.

  Chapter 19

  Henry

  Henry clenched his fists to his sides and ground his jaw. He didn’t care that his fangs pressed into his bottom lip and drew blood. What he cared about was her house. He stood in the shadows of it, the broken pieces of it scattered by his feet. Rage flooded his body like a disease swimming through his veins, hot and infectious, ready to take down anyone who would dare to come close enough … who would come close to Gemma. Someone had.

  His rage was a silent whisper. One that promised revenge on whoever had done this. Whoever had dared to touch or hurt what was his. It glossed his vision in shades of red, sending that predatory part of him wild.

  Glass crunched under his boots as he moved, and he ground the shards into the stones beneath his feet, imagining it was the woman from the other night … her and her threats. Maybe this wasn’t the work of the MacDonalds themselves, but it was because of them. He was sure of it. Days ago she had asked him to kill Gemma, and now he had come and found her house in ruins, empty, and Gemma gone.

  He took a step back, giving himself enough room so he could glance at the upstairs windows. The main window where Gemma’s bedroom was, bulged outwards. The shattered glass held together and created a dome like effect. Someone had clearly been pushed against it. He sniffed at the air. It had been days since he had been there … days since he had seen the woman, and she had stopped his heart. If that wasn’t enough to make him ready to seek her out, this was. The thought of her just ignited his rage even more, and he pressed his fist against his chest. When Gemma was safe, he would find the woman … she would be his last problem.

  Surveying all the windows and the door, Henry bit back his need for revenge. Nina’s words echoed in that furious head of his. Think, she had told him. Use your brain, not your heart. But the sight of the house brought raw emotions and painful memories to his head that nipped and snapped at any logical thought. Images of Gemma blurred with those of Mary and the night he had found her. Even the front door of the house had been boarded over, and planks had been hammered into place across the doorway. A wooden prison. These days that had passed … these days when he could not watch Gemma. What if she had been killed?

  The question sliced through him with icy precision, going straight for his heart and causing it to beat a little faster. No one would touch her … no one.

  He shook his head, trying to bring himself back to a place he could think, where he could be logical. But there was no such thing as logical when it came to his Mary—when it came to Gemma. Taking himself around the back of the house, he knew she wasn’t there. He could feel the absence of her in the building, but still, he wanted to look inside.

  She was alive. His heart beat slowly in his chest. It wouldn’t have started again if she had left this world. Then that woman would really have begged for mercy and he would not give it. Not again. No matter what it cost him. He would always protect Mary even if it was just her memory. She was his, and he had made his vows to her.

  There was a large fence at the back and Henry scaled it with no problem. He had done it many times before. Knew every hole, every place to stand to get himself into the back land without being detected. He dropped silently on the other side, a predator.

  The back of her house was untouched—the complete opposite to the front. He tried the handle and wasn’t surprised to find it locked. It always was. He peered in through the window to the kitchen. There were boxes stacked up on the counter. The place was clean … too clean. He narrowed his eyes, trying to see deeper inside, pressing his face against the glass. He could have smashed the window if he wanted and let himself in that way, but this was Gemma’s house—she wasn’t in there, anyway.

  The scents outside were that of wolves and tigers. They lingered in the air, but the scents held the aroma of the earth and the weather too. The damp smell of rain. The animals were long gone. Gemma’s scent was there, mingling with it all—a dance between the animals.

  Henry had to bite back his anger, his pain and rage and all the agony his memory tried to flood him with. Visions of Mary, battered and bloody, came into his head. The scent of her death and that of the wolves who had killed her, mauled her, taken from him what was his, rushed at him. The sooner he got his soul and fixed everything he had broken, the better. He could keep her safe then. Keep her away from harm.

  Going back to his car, Henry got in and wasted no time in driving the short distance across town. Karl … she’d be with Karl. The problem wasn’t killing that man; the problem was capturing his soul before it blinked out like a light and was lost to wherever they went to be reincarnated. He had to capture it. He had to hold onto it when it was released from the body. That was what the woman had promised him. The one who wanted to end Gemma.

  He’d find another way.

  Pulling up on the lane that led to Karl’s house, Henry sent a silent curse to Nina. She had made it, so he couldn’t feel his soul, couldn’t detect it. But he could find Gemma. She was an integral part of his existence and the gods, or the angels, or whoever was in charge had forgotten that part. He just had to watch her, had to wait. Eventually she would show him which man it was. Gemma could deny it all she wanted, but she would be like a moth to his flame.

  Karl wasn’t home. Henry walked along the driveway and over the small bridge, not caring to keep himself out of sight. The place was quiet, hushed, maybe a little too much for his liking. This was the place Henry would choose when he got his Mary back. Standing back and eyeing over the exterior of the house, the silence of it, the grand structures and intricate designs … yes. Karl had to be his soul. This house was one Henry would have chosen, would have built with his bare hands.

  Henry walked the length of the house and went around back. He had been there enough times to know the layout of the place. Most shifters used their back doors, favouring the spill out into the lands their homes always backed onto. Front doors were for invites, for strangers, for people who didn’t belong. The garage was closed too. Karl definitely wasn’t home.

  Henry had watched him occasionally, watched as he spent time in the garage fixing up cars. Henry saw no fascination in them. They were boxes on wheels that got a person from one place to another. Perhaps if he had been born in this century, he would have a better appreciation for them.

  Glancing through the windows, Henry saw the house was much the same as it had been last time he was there. The Mini Karl had been working on was lifted on the ramp in his garage. Although now, it had changed colour.

  He thrust his hands into his pockets and walked purposely around the perimeter of the house. It always made him feel close to Human when he did that, an older trait when he had been a man and when he’d had hope of the new life growing inside his wife. He walked hard, pushing his feet against the earth as he moved, trying to think.

  Her parents … Maybe she was there.

  He traced his way back toward his car, walking across the gardens and not caring if Karl were to come home and see him. Henry would kill him if he had to, or at least, make him unconscious while he found the way to get what he wanted.

  Fury burned in Henry’s stomach, creating acid that threatened to burn through the very core of him. He never needed anyone. Not when he had Mary, but the thought of the woman and the fact he now hated her so much, burnt like the hot fires of hell in his gut. Except, she had the one thing that would help him. There had to be another way, another person who could offer the same. She was just fae. Another creature like him. Old like him. One of the fae who had somehow defied the laws of space and time.

  Driving to Gemma’s parents’ home, Henry parked the car far away again, this time, further than he had at Karl’s. He didn’t want to get caught there. Didn’t want to be seen. Here she was safe. The last time he had been there, hiding in the darkness, he had been spotted. He almost smiled at the memory of biting the stupid shifter—a wolf who thought he could take him on. He should have
ripped his throat out. Maybe if he saw him again, he would finish the job.

  As he walked along the secret path to her parents’ home—a secret path he had created—he took in the scents of the day. It was still early, still daylight, and he basked in the sun as it beat down on his pale skin. He could feel the rush of it, the fight between what was almost impure about him and the natural light. That was why vampires usually burned, the rays of all that was good, hitting the flesh of something that was never meant to walk the earth, never meant to be alive, but Gemma gave him that. She gave him life and goodness, and everything about him that might have once been deemed Human.

  He jumped over the fence at the side—a small gap in the hedge and a place where the metal had rotted enough he could climb over, not that it would have stopped him, anyway. He slid down it with practiced skill and landed on the other side. His heart raced, the beating of it speeding up. She was here; she was close.

  He knew without explanation she was at the back of the house. He could feel her there, almost like her soul called out to his and beckoned for him to come closer. But, when he caught her in his sights, he crouched down, giving her a moment by herself. She was standing at the back of the house, her arms wrapped around her body, comforting herself. The sight made him want to go to her. Made his heart want to chase away whatever was causing her pain, but he knew the answer to that. She was hurting herself. She caused that. If she just gave up, gave in, and told him where his soul was, he could fix it. He could fix every tear she’d ever needed to cry. Fix every hurt that ran through her body now as she tried to chase it away. He could fix them both … fix it all.

  Blood pumped around his body, warm, delicious, filled with the life he only had when he was this close to her. He closed his eyes and let it wash over him, his arms to his sides. It was like falling into a pit of bliss, of pure, unimaginable peace. He let his mouth hang open, filling himself up selfishly on what her presence did to him.