Both were gone. He blinked and took in his current surroundings. They were bleak and made him wish he was still restrained.
Nathan had been stuffed into a cage meant for medium-sized dogs, and as a human it was incredibly uncomfortable. He winced and gave himself over to the change. His bones crackled and groaned as they literally changed shape and direction. Gold-tinged white fur sprouted along his body and replaced the hair on his head as his eyes narrowed and his nose elongated into a snout.
Soon he was in a much less painful lying position as a wolf. Nathan whimpered and rested his head upon his front paws, now able to observe his surroundings with ease.
The room was dank and unfinished, like a basement where the homebuilders remembered to pour concrete but quit before doing much more than stringing one pathetic bulb into the room. They hadn’t even centered it, leaving the light swaying closer to the only door. Nathan’s cage was in the dimmest, most desolate corner, and he had the feeling that had been done on purpose.
Plus, oddly enough, it was cold. Though fall approached its end in the desert state, this level of chill was too much. He had to conclude there was no insulation and that he really was underground.
Nathan sighed through his long nose. He was well and truly stuck for the moment. The cage wasn’t much to brag about at first glance, but the construction was solid. These were the types to hold back unrulier dogs, he knew.
A long while ago Aaron had made him, Roxi, and Holden all volunteer at an animal shelter. At the time Nathan hadn’t seen the use for it, but now he thought he understood. Not just so they could empathize with the brethren less fortunate than them, but so they could see how humiliating it was to be locked in a cage.
Bonus that he recognized the type of cage.
He’d heard of a few packs here and there who used caging as a method of training, but Aaron never had. Nathan wished he could remember the reasoning now—something about living in a cave being awful enough? Whatever his brother had referred to had been well before Nathan’s time.
God, why couldn’t he remember? Nathan emitted another low whine, this time at himself. Recalling some sort of comforting words from Aaron would have really helped right then. Yet he could think of nothing.
Instead his mind wandered to his brother and the girls, and he wondered if they had held their own. Perhaps they were lucky enough not to be nabbed. He hoped that was the case; there were no other wolves in the room with him, but there were other cages. Nathan assumed that meant they didn’t intend to only snatch him up.
But the question was still, why?
He didn’t know how much time passed before the door finally opened. On one hand it felt like forever, but in the grand scheme of his long lycan life, it was a blip in time. Nathan’s ears perked up but otherwise he didn’t move.
A man in his mid-twenties entered. He took one look at Nathan and snorted. “Well, this makes it a little less degrading for you, doesn’t it? Lucky you.”
Nathan let out a low growl.
The man shrugged and approached him, setting a small tin bowl in front of his cage. It was half-full of water and looked as though it had sloshed around a lot before getting to him. Nathan wanted to drink, but he was wary.
As though noticing, his captor said dryly, “It’s not poisoned. We don’t want you dead. You’re useless that way.”
Nathan raised his head a little.
“Audrey’s an idiot for not listening, but it’s better we got you than anyone else,” the man explained with a small smirk. “Your alpha’s more likely to listen once we start negotiations to give him his brother back.”
Oh. Well, then.
With a small huff, Nathan pressed his snout between the wires of the cage and awkwardly lapped at the water. It was lukewarm but still refreshing. About half as much spilled to the floor as he got in his mouth.
Once the bowl was clean, the man retrieved it. “Hang tight, kid. It’s nothing personal.”
Not at all comforted, Nathan adjusted to a slightly more agreeable position. When the door closed behind his jailer, Nathan decided there wasn’t much more he could do for the moment except sleep.
As Aaron had drilled into him long ago, patience with the enemy was crucial.
Ͼ
Holden hadn’t expected to augment his pack so quickly, especially not with ready-made lycans. The landlord would be pissed once he found out. Including Lacey’s grudging presence, Holden now had one more person than he’d promised living with him in their new quarters.
So it goes, he thought with a grin as Owen helped him set up the TV stand.
Noticing, Owen’s furry upper lip twitched. “What’s so funny?”
Holden didn’t bother lying. “Not funny, just cool that you three are here. I’ve been pleasantly surprised so far.”
Casting him a wary look from beneath dark brows, Owen said, “Okay, but you’re still not my type.”
“It’s been noted,” Holden assured him.
“Maybe Maryanne’s, though. If her moans at night mean anything, she’s a beast in the sack.”
From the front door, Maryanne shot him a dirty look. But she was busy trying to tilt a slightly-too-large couch through the narrow opening, so she didn’t retort.
A glance of guilt sliced through Holden. “Like I said, there’s no sexual hierarchy anymore. You all are free to do as you like—just keep it out of the house.”
“Unless your name is Laelia,” said Lacey as she thumped up the stairs with an oversized suitcase. “Then feel free to jump on Holden’s dick day and night.”
Holden rolled his eyes, but didn’t miss the glee that lit Laelia’s.
“Women,” muttered Owen beneath his breath.
Determined to move on from Lacey’s petulance, Holden headed for the kitchen to unpack the necessities—the coffeemaker, especially. A cup sounded great. They’d started driving from Wells to Reno before the sun broke over the horizon and hadn’t stopped but to fill up on gas. While Carly and Laelia had been content to grab chips and soda, everyone else preferred to wait until they were a little more settled.
Holden took his time measuring the grounds out to perfection. It would be nice to get back to cooking now and then, he thought. Back as a lowly pup in Aaron’s pack, that had been his stress relief. Once he met Rachael, he’d taken to baking with even more enthusiasm. She’d always adored his cupcakes and cookies. Unfortunately, a lot of that had taken a back seat once he started his own pack.
Now that he didn’t have to worry as much about which girl he was neglecting more, Holden figured he could fill that time with recipes—when he wasn’t hunting down Aaron, of course.
He had a plan, naturally. Bit by bit he perfected it in his head. Eventually his pack would need to know, but he didn’t want to say anything just yet. Holden worried if he exposed his plans too soon, Lacey might try to run ahead of him.
Part of it hinged on Rachael living through the infection. Holden didn’t want her to die, especially since Lacey continued to act snotty toward him yet refused to leave. If Rachael died the only part of his plan that changed was getting her out of Aaron’s clutches. And hiding her much, much better.
He supposed that went without saying. Last time he wanted Aaron to find her—eventually. Now he didn’t want them to ever reunite; not if he could help it. Holden was determined to sway Rachael to his side even if it killed her. If he allowed Aaron to keep her, then all his efforts to break lycans free of his former alpha’s tyranny would be for nothing. The only reason he hadn’t taken her when he’d infected her was because if she did ultimately die, he would have dragged around dead weight that could slow him down in the interim
Holden regretted leaving her there, but otherwise everything was going just fine. It was a small blip compared to other mistakes in his past. This was easily recoverable, especially knowing Olivia’s pack had fractured and one of the children had decided to take the baby to Aaron. It was as though fortune smiled upon him, promising Holden it would be okay fr
om now on.
Though he had to be careful with that. He’d thought so previous times in the past, and Holden had ended up failing anyway. This time he refused to see it as fortune. Instead, he saw it as a small advantage that could go wrong if the baby never made it to Aaron’s sinister clutches.
“Are you brewing cinnamon?”
Holden didn’t jolt, though the voice did surprise him. Instead he turned in a smooth motion to smile at Maryanne. “Of course not. I just add it to the grounds before starting the coffee. It adds flavor.”
Maryanne didn’t appear impressed. “So does just, you know, adding cinnamon.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t dissolve so easily,” explained Holden. “It’s less messy this way. Unless you’re personally a fan of spice chunks in your dregs.”
Her mouth curled upward. “Not particularly.”
“Then there you go.”
She leaned against the counter, her eyes sweeping the room without the slightest hint to her opinion of the décor. “Just one question. Why get rid of the sex pyramid?”
Holden frowned toward her, but then the pot bubbled, signaling the coffee was done. He dug out a couple mugs from a nearby box and poured his own before Maryanne did the same.
“Please don’t call it that,” said Holden after some thought. “It was a polyamorous relationship, consenting on all sides, and Lacey was my girlfriend and Primary. I had to break up with her, so the Primary status is now gone. Whatever happens now, happens.”
Maryanne hummed and rested her free hand against the counter. “I don’t think your redhead thinks so.”
Firmly, he said, “Laelia’s been reminded numerous times what the deal is. So far she’s actually behaving herself.”
“Really? She practically pees on you to mark her territory.”
Holden sighed. “I’ve only slept with her once since disestablishing Lacey as Primary.”
Maryanne nodded and asked in her intense, quiet way, “And who else?”
Of course. Holden knew what she was getting at, but he was leery to speak of it. Even so, he admitted, “No one. Yet.”
Maryanne’s dark eyes swept over him once—and then again. “Well, if you need help with that, just knock first.”
Then she left him to tell the others of the coffee. Holden cocked his head in thought as she walked away. The offer was tempting, but for now he needed to be more cautious. Just because he was free to do as he pleased didn’t mean he needed to be stupid about it. Toeing the line was more critical than ever now.
Everyone but Lacey took a break, though only Owen went for more coffee. It was as they sat in the kitchen, chatting about nothing of real importance, that Carly looked to Holden and said, “So you have some big scheme to take down Aaron Moreno. What is it?”
Holden shook his head. “Not yet. I’m waiting for ideal conditions.”
“Great leadership,” muttered Owen.
Holden raised both eyebrows. “You’re the ones who wanted to come here. I didn’t invite you, I welcomed you. If you have a problem with it now, feel free to leave. You too, Lacey,” he added as she strode through the kitchen, intent on snubbing him. “I’ve let you stay this far, but if you’re going to be a brat, just go.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Feeling free to fuck everyone around you without having to worry about my feelings.”
Narrowing his stormy eyes at her, Holden said icily, “I’ll start caring about your feelings once you admit it was your and Sage’s own faults that she died in the first place. You want to go behind my back, then you lose my ability to defend you.”
Lacey pressed her lips together. But she broke their locked stare before he did, and for the first time a hint of self-humiliation tinted the tops of her cheeks.
Holden felt a little pity begin to seep in. He quickly quashed it down. If Lacey was feeling remorseful, all well and good, but they had other issues to tackle, first. Instead he turned to the rest of the pack. Each of them stared with unabashed interest.
“Either way,” continued Holden with more calm than he felt, “I can’t divulge the full plan just yet. But if you’re bored, feel free to volunteer for a scouting mission.”
This caught the curiosity of the newest three. Lacey spun on her heel and stalked out, and Laelia remained sulking in one of the kitchen chairs.
“Who are we looking for?” asked Carly.
Flashing a sharp-toothed smile, Holden said, “My former alpha.”
They all knew who that was. Over the course of the morning, Holden had learned that Aaron had moved into what used to be Olivia’s house on the compound. While they couldn’t attest much to his pack, the three had plenty of stories about Aaron and his creepy interest in their alpha. The more he heard, the more Holden couldn’t believe Rachael’s self-esteem had sunk so low that she appeared to turn a blind eye and deaf ear to all of Aaron and Olivia’s dalliances.
“Just him?” persisted Carly.
Holden shook his head. “Where the pack is, he will also be. Any of them will do. Since I infected Rachael, he’ll have to go slow and batten down the hatches. I’m positive he’ll be somewhere in the city—but I’m not as certain where. He could be in the middle, he could be in the outskirts, he could even be squatting somewhere. But he will be here.”
Owen tilted his head. “And if we find him, we attack? Grab one of them?”
“No,” said Holden firmly. “You report back to me.”
Uncertainty crossed Owen’s face, but he nodded.
“And then what?” murmured Maryanne.
“Once I have an idea of where he’s holed up, I can make a battle plan that works,” said Holden. “Aaron might be cocky, but he’s not stupid. He’s been around long enough to deserve some of that cockiness.” He smirked. “Thing is, we need to knock him down a peg. Make him realize he’s vulnerable, and that he won’t always win. That’s why it’s crucial we’re very precise about this.”
For a long moment nobody spoke. Holden watched his pack, not allowing his apprehension to show on his face. If anybody was going to object or defy him, now would be the opportune time. The new three came from looser standards; fewer rules. If they didn’t like his plans, it was likely they would openly express it now before they became too ingratiated.
Quietly, Maryanne said, “Sounds solid to me.”
“I’m in,” chimed in Carly.
Owen nodded.
Pleased with their concurrence, Holden changed the subject back to unpacking. He found that they had all claimed their own rooms—but for Carly and Owen, who for whatever reason wanted to share—and had left him the master bedroom.
This time Laelia finally spoke up and said, “Lacey tried to snag it, but we’d already moved your bed in there.”
Holden couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtfulness.
Soon they returned to work. What could have been a long, grueling day finished early into the evening, even with unpacking all the boxes. The new trio hadn’t brought much of their own belongings. Holden overheard their plans to shop for furniture at a local thrift store they’d passed along the way in.
By the end of it all Holden still felt up to cooking dinner. He made a quick run to the store and came back with the fixings for ground beef tacos. While he worked, Carly approached and began to help but cutting and dicing vegetables.
All in all, it was a smooth day, even if he counted Lacey’s snide commentary. Holden felt a glimmer of hope for the near future and what it meant for his new pack.
He was still riding that good feeling when he headed for his bedroom well into the night. Owen and Carly remained up with Laelia watching television, while Lacey and Maryanne had both retired already. Holden closed his bedroom door behind him and flopped onto his unmade bed.
Things were great, he decided. Carly, Owen, and Maryanne couldn’t replace Sage and Nadine, but they clicked in well like specially made puzzle pieces. Had he not seen Olivia’s decapitated head buried in the Wells
sand himself, Holden might have thought this was a too-good-to-be-true, overly complicated ruse.
As he began to drift off, still wearing his clothes from that day, Holden thought of past girls he’d infected throughout his short stint as an alpha. Coleen, a classmate of Rachael’s, had been the first, and she had died bleeding from the eyes. Several other women in Holden’s pursuit of a full pack had followed in the years after, with his first success being Lacey, and his last being Laelia—unless Rachael pulled through, of course.
Though he wanted Rachael to live, Holden couldn’t help but wonder whether or not she would meet the same sad fate. In the end, he supposed, it was entirely up to her strength of will.
Just before he drifted off, Holden wondered if he would still love her as a lycan.
Chapter Ten
Typically, the first 24 hours after a kidnapping was the most crucial time to find a child and bring them back alive. When ransom was involved, that number tended to stay true; the captors would notify the guardians within those 24 hours and outline their demands. Past 72 hours, hope of finding the child still alive became abysmally low.
But that was for humans. Lycans were literally a different beast.
Aaron was on his eighth day waiting. It would take time, he knew, since he had hidden them as best he could in the city. He couldn’t step forward for fear of exposing his pack to more than just the kidnappers, and he was utterly confident Nathan would not be harmed or killed. Anybody who knew his reputation—as Olivia’s pack did—also knew he would take no prisoners if somebody injured one of his own. So he continued to wait.
That didn’t mean it was easy.
Aaron spent much of his time in the house, either looking after Rachael or scouting the perimeter. So far no distinctive lycan scents had caught his attention, but it might just be a matter of time.
The pack was growing notably more restless. Seritta drew into herself, isolating the baby from them as best she could. Ana Sofia was completely inconsolable without Nathan and spent much of her time peering out windows. Jackson and Eva took turns with Aaron for their duties. Despite staying busy, it was clear they were on edge as well.
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