Male Werewolves had a horrible time resisting their mates. Male disinterest had been the story of her life.
“It seems the Dragons have, for some time, used their eggs to destroy our population from the inside out. I’m sure you’re all familiar with what happens when you destroy the eggs, yes?” She had their attention. If only she could keep hers where it needed to stay.
The blond man, her former pack although she couldn’t recall his name, spoke again. “They scream.”
It took her a second to register what he’d said. “You’re referring to the noise when you break the egg?”
“What were you referring to?” Dougal interrupted. “How do you have this information anyway?”
“I know what the eggs do because I am part of a lab who has been, for some time, trying to figure out where the sudden influx of a drug called GSX122 or, as it is called on the street, Dragon’s Doom came from. As I’m sure you all know, a large portion of our population, including a huge number of veterans, are completely addicted to the stuff.”
“It’s a shame.” The commander shook his head. “What’s more of a shame, gentleman, is what it turns out the dragons have been doing.”
She interrupted, “When I asked you before about the eggs, you mentioned the screaming. I’m sorry for the confusion. I meant their shells. The shell dissolves immediately into the ground. It liquefies. It seems the dragons have been addicting us to their liquid.” She took a deep breath. The next part was where she usually lost her audience. “It’s all very technical, and I know the science is not what you do. We need you to fight this second war, here on the front lines because we’re losing it at home. The only way to save them is to change how you destroy the eggs.”
“Are you telling us that every time we smash an egg by going through hell into the nests and the fields and we...do what we do, it’s actually helping the dragons to attack the people we’ve left behind?” She hated the touch of sorrow in Dougal’s voice.
“The way you’ve been managing the egg kills has got to change. Instead of breaking them, you’re going to have to burn them.”
“Sorry.” Another male toward the back of the room shouted out, “Sweetheart, it’d be a great idea, and I think it’s adorable you and the other females at home think it’d work, but I’m afraid eggs don’t burn. We’ve all given lighting them to smithereens a real good go, trust me. We’d rather not have to rush in and smash things. It’s not pleasant and, like Brett said earlier, they scream. Be good, baby girl. Go home.”
Several of the males laughed, and she steeled herself. The rejection and dismissal were very familiar. What she didn’t expect was the way Dougal growled at the ass shouting to her.
“A member of my pack is talking, Andrews. You’re going to give her the respect of listening or I’m going to arrange for you never to speak again.”
“Ah.” She put her hands out in front of her. “Look, I get your reluctance. I know, the eggs don’t burn. Yet. Once I’m on site, I can figure out how to make it happen. I need real eggs to test. It’ll eliminate a whole bunch of problems all at once. Burning the eggs stops them getting the liquid to put in the drug. It eliminates more of them at once. Fewer eggs hatch, fewer Dragon soldiers come after you. So unfair they hatch fully grown, isn’t it?” she rambled. Get to the point Caitlyn, quickly. “And who knows? Maybe the chemical burning the eggs will scorch the living dragons too. We plan to experiment on all fronts.”
“What do you need us for then?” The same douche, Andrews, yelled from the back. “Seems you have all the answers, sweetheart. Go home to your mate. Ramble on to him, unless you don’t have one.” He pointed to her face. “Or did the mess on your cheek happen recently?”
She touched the burn scars, although she didn’t need a reminder. “I wish this had happened in service to the cause. Unfortunately, it seems my preoccupation with fire started young. The point is gentleman, I need you to take me to the field, the big one on Dragon Island.” She let her gaze stray out the window to the small island miles off of shore. “We’ve almost got it. I need to see how they’re laid. Then this can all come to an end.”
“Caitlyn.” Dougal drew her attention back to him. “If you think any of us are going to take you to what is arguably the most dangerous place on the planet, you’re hugely mistaken.”
“You will.” She held his gaze, fully in control of herself. “Because your commander here is about to order you to do it.”
Chapter Two
Dougal poked the fire with a stick. He should be eating, sleeping...something instead of aimlessly nudging a rock around at the bottom of a flame pit.
“Should I be insulted because she didn’t remember me?” Brett sat next to him.
Dougal snorted. Caitlyn’s lack of recollection struck Brett right in the ego. “I’m sure her three older sisters remember you well. Jane Knox knew you quite personally, actually.”
“Yeah.” Brett laughed, spreading out his legs. “She did. Those were fun times.”
“If you say so. Manwhore.”
Brett punched him in the shoulder before snickering again.
“Don’t act like you didn’t love your reputation.”
“I did. I did.” His friend nodded. “While you lived like you wanted to go off into moon service. No women, not ever.”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
His parents had a really amazing mating. Dougal had always admired the purity of their love, the truth they saw in each other. He hadn’t wanted his future mate to run into a female he slept with every time she went to the grocery store. He’d decided to be more selective.
Damn, it had been a long time since he’d thought about women, families, mating—any of it. Sixteen years earlier, life mattered without dragons, death, and doom.
“I think I need to shift.” He shook his leg. “I’m out of sorts.”
“You smell tense.” Brett shrugged. “We all are. Bringing a woman into dragon territory. They held your brother there for five years.”
“I’m acutely aware.” Dougal jumped to his feet. “Maybe another dragon will come tonight. A big one.”
“You’re hoping for one? By the gods, you are in a bad way. Do you want to, you know, talk or something?”
“No. We’re not women. We don’t talk feelings.” He paced around the fire. “And, fuck, if I shift it’s not like I have anywhere to go. There are no woods left to run in around here. The beach is mud. The flying beasts destroyed all of it.”
Brett shook his head but didn’t look at him. He stared out at the ocean.
“There was a time when my family used to take vacations to the coastline. We loved the trips. I found the sound of the ocean calming. These days, if I notice it at all, it irks the shit out of me. I’d like quiet again. Bees buzzing. Someone coughing in the distance. Children’s laughter.”
Dougal sat. Reminiscing about the old days wasn’t like them. They didn’t sit around at night and remember what wasn’t anymore. Werewolves planned, they plotted. They executed battles to save the pack. Not that there were such things anymore. He’d momentarily forgotten. When Andrews had been condescending Caitlyn, he’d called her pack.
“What are Werewolves without pack?”
“Fuck if I know.” Brett threw a stick in the fire. “Do you remember when Caitlyn was almost burned to death? It was a big deal. An injured pup got everyone worked to a frenzy.”
That night... Dougal remembered the noise. The sirens. Some things left over from the humans were still useful. Ambulances had been one of them. He hadn’t gone outside to see the fuss. His mother had wanted the boys to be respectful. Boys weren’t to gawk at underage females.
He remembered he couldn’t settle, couldn’t sleep. Much like his current situation.
“There are females running labs.”
Dougal stared at Brett. “Of all the things she said today, women in the work place bothers you? My mom worked sometimes when I was young. My father would sometimes be between ventures. She’d go
to work at the school.”
“Teaching, fine. Nursing, ok. Scientists? What the hell?” His friend wasn’t so easily mollified.
He snickered. “In all the years I’ve known you, Brett, I don’t think I’ve ever realized you were such a chauvinist.”
“I’m an Alpha Werewolf. We’re a male dominated world. Look at the dragons. This war happened because they have a woman running things. The sick dragons.”
“Um, Brett. They’re winning, brother.” And if the fire thing Caitlyn wanted to try worked, then it would be her female run lab turning the tide of the war. Things changed. They had to. Nothing could be counted on in life except time pressing forward. Maybe all the Werewolf soldiers would find there was nowhere left for them when they got back.
“So you didn’t know Devon got mated.” Brett didn’t seem interested in keeping his head on his neck.
“I don’t talk to the home front. I don’t call. I don’t write. I don’t want to. Neither do you.” And it wasn’t because he didn’t care. He could do nothing for them. What would he tell them about his life?
He smelled her before he saw her. Caitlyn approached them slowly, as if she expected them to tell her to go away. She carried home on her, and he wondered if she had any idea how appealing he found her scent. Lilacs. Roses. Sugar. Gods, he wasn’t going to survive the melancholy on its way.
“Okay if I join you?”
Brett stood. “Ma’am.”
“It’s miss, obviously. I’m not mated.”
His friend nodded. “Alright, miss, then. I think the reason the commander put you in his tent was for your own protection. It’s been a very long time since any of us have seen a female. I’m sure of my own good behavior and Dougal’s. Beyond us, I worry for your honor.”
“Oh she’s okay with us.” Dougal patted the ground next to him, although he had to agree with Brett’s statement. The scents she brought with her were too precious to let drift off without savoring them.
Not to mention he wanted to know about his brother.
She wasn’t pretty, not in the traditional sense of the word. Her older sisters had been. Before he left home, the Knox family boasted seven daughters, no sons. Maybe there were more since the war. They’d been considered great beauties of their pack.
The three older than Caitlyn had been downright gorgeous. All of them possessed the same streaked-blonde hair and light eyes. Brett had been lucky to have seen at least one, maybe two, naked.
Dougal didn’t know what Caitlyn would have looked like if she hadn’t been burned. He didn’t know if she would have been considered pretty. Her nose was a little too long for her face and her chin jutted out with a small cleft. She had long shapely legs she covered modestly in long pants and beneath her loose blouse were large breasts he suspected would fill his hands if he ever got to see them.
She sat next to him while Brett placed himself on her other side, flanked by the males who should have been her pack. Something moved inside of Dougal and he didn’t know what it was. Familiarity?
“It’s cold in the tent. The commander is sleeping, snoring actually. I’m not tired. Too wound about tomorrow, I guess.” She put her hands in front of the fire. They were small, at least compared to his, only they didn’t look dainty. Her fingers were solid and steady. Working hands.
“Which is exactly why you should be sleeping.” Brett’s voice irked him like ripping paper. He’d always hated rough sounds. Dougal rubbed his forehead. He’d never had such a strange reaction to Brett before.
“Hey, Brett. I think the lady could really use a drink, as could I. Want to be a sport?”
His friend eyed him for a second before he rose. “Sure. Not sure where I’m going to find any. I guess I’ll look for it. Might take a while.”
“Take your time. No rush.” If he wanted to spend all night searching, it would be fine with Dougal.
Brett scuttled off to find alcohol. Dougal could practically feel his silent grumbles. At the moment, he didn’t care.
He looked at Caitlyn as she stared at the fire. Her eyes were blue, but not like the hateful ocean. No, they were more akin to the skies back home.
“Are you sure you want to do this tomorrow?”
“No. To be completely honest, I have absolutely no interest in going to dragon baby land. I guess I’m the right person for the job. Out of the whole lab, I’m the most appropriate Werewolf to go.”
She shook her head and some of her blonde hair fell around her shoulders. With a sigh she shrugged and what he could only describe as a disgruntled smirk crossed her face. It was...adorable.
“The whole conversation moments ago, with the Miss versus the Ma’am thing? I couldn’t help except wonder if the word Doctor wouldn’t be more appropriate given your level of expertise to be sent here.”
Caitlyn lifted her gaze to meet his. “Female Werewolves don’t get to have such a title.”
“I know.” He cleared his throat. “Are we honorary brother and sister? Since my brother mated...which one of your sisters?”
“Lena. She would have been five when you left. She was the baby.”
“What?” He couldn’t keep the shock from his voice. “My forty year old brother mated your baby sister? “
“She’s twenty-three.” Caitlyn laughed and it made the night brighten. He sat straighter. “We were all surprised. Not unhappy. Shocked, yes. The mating chemicals want what they want, right? She told me she knew when she was seven.”
“Well, color me shocked. Good for them.” Devon mated. At least one of his brothers should enjoy the privilege, and to the girl next door no less. Stranger things happened, he supposed.
“He saved her from a dragon.”
Devon’s bravery didn’t surprise him in the least. “He lived for five years in a dragon prison. Saving his mate from a dragon? Must have seemed like a boring day.”
His little brother who had tagged after him with skinned knees as a mated Werewolf, it was difficult to reconcile. He’d been benched from the prison rescue, which freed Devon. When possible, Werewolves weren’t sent on missions with their direct kin. Of course, with their dwindling numbers, the rule would have to be changed soon.
“Why were you the most qualified to do this?”
She jumped when he spoke as though her mind had been elsewhere. He’d do almost anything to know what she thought about.
****
Caitlyn supposed she could lie. She didn’t owe him the truth. For all intents and purposes, with her silly mating feelings and new familial connections aside, she didn’t know Dougal Owens at all. How would he know whether or not she was the most scientifically qualified member of her team to go on the trip? If she told him it was work related, he’d believe her.
Yet this was likely the only time she’d ever really get to speak to the man who captured and held her thoughts and sexual fantasies for the whole of her adult life. She didn’t want to diminish their precious few moments together with falsehoods.
“We’re all equally able to evaluate the fields—nests—whatever you want to call them. I’m going to take a few pictures and then the whole lab can see what I saw anyway. They believed I would be the least likely to be molested by the soldiers I encountered.”
Her heart beat too fast and she forced it to slow. Nothing miraculous would come of her confession. He’d likely not give her words another thought, never know the cost of her confession. Or the way she stupidly cried herself to sleep after the meeting about why they all felt she should be the female to visit the fields.
She was the least likely to mate someday, therefore if she did die, she’d be the smallest loss to society. Gods, sometimes she hated female Werewolves.
“Why would they think something so ridiculous?” A growl rumbled in the words. He stood. She half-expected him to abandon her, but instead of striding away, he went still.
“Um, the obvious?” She pointed to her cheek. “An injury no amount of shifting will heal. It makes me much less likely to mate, ever. A flaw i
n my shifting capabilities, subconsciously recognized by potential mates, which therefore stops the mating gene in them. In other words, should I feel it, but he won’t.”
“You were burned.”
Dougal must like to state the obvious. Did he want a response? “Yes.”
“You weren’t born with three legs. I don’t see how it’s a gene flaw which would trigger a subconscious anything.” He didn’t look at her when he spoke
“I should have healed when I shifted. After the initial injury was managed, the shift should have removed all trace of the injury. It didn’t then and hasn’t since.” She wanted to change the subject.
Finally, he stared at her again. “If you think a little thing like a burned cheek is going to stop any of these men from being interested in sex, you don’t know what it’s like to have not seen females in decades. Mating is the last thing on their minds.”
A sound filled the air and it took her a moment to realize what she heard. “Dragon?”
He looked toward the sky. “Yes. I guess so. Tenth one today.”
She shivered. Caitlyn studied the remnants of dragons—their eggs, the secretions they made, and how they were being used in manufactured drugs. Despite studying dragons and the effects of their war, she’d never seen a live Dragon before. Her home wasn’t part of the region occupied by the dragons. So far, the winged creatures hadn’t become part of her day-to-day life.
“I...”
Dougal craned back his neck to stare upward. “Why aren’t the alarms going off?”
“Should they be?”
“Five minutes ago.” Dougal grabbed her arm. He pointed at the burned out trees behind the commander’s tent. “Shift. Run there. Don’t stop. Don’t look back.”
With his head thrown back, he howled at the sky. She stopped for a moment to watch him. Not every Werewolf could present a full on howl outside of his shifted body. Dougal looked at her. “Caitlyn, go.”
She nodded and ran in the direction he’d pointed. Calling her wolf onto herself, she let her body splinter and reform into its animal shape. She’d never much cared for the process or the resulting wolf when it was over. Others loved their animal, craved the time spent on all fours. Caitlyn had always been too invested in what her human self was doing to want to waste time running around living on instinct alone.
Eternal Page 2
