I sigh and flip up the visor on my helmet. “I’ve been riding for a decade. I promise you’ll be fine.”
She sets her jaw and nods, putting the spare helmet on. She climbs on the bike and puts her hands on my hips. I shake my head. “Wrap your arms around my waist. You’re gonna want to hold on.”
“Where are we going?” she asks, her voice muffled despite having to yell over the motor. At the same time, she complies with my suggestion.
I kick the stand up. “Somewhere safe,” I promise. Then, I take off. She squeals and tightens her arms, sending tingles through my body. I’m so glad she can’t see my face right now. I whip out of the parking garage and hit the interstate. When I went to the wooded property with Thompson, it had been exhilarating.
Running through the woods, finding the waterfall, it all reminded me of my father. Back when I was too young to shift, before my parents died, they would take me out there together. I would ride on their backs like they were horses, and they made sure I memorized the layout of the entire property. They’d been planning to turn the immense woods into a new pack home, cabins spread throughout, but those plans had been put on hold when Mom died.
When Freya and I arrive, she gets up, removing her helmet and shaking her hair out. She’d been holding onto me tightly, but instead of seeming shaken, her eyes are alight with excitement.
“Where are we, exactly?” she asks, her voice strong as she looks around.
“It’s a place my dad bought when I was really little. Wolves don’t belong in tiny apartments in the middle of the city.” I follow her off the bike and clip the key onto a chain that I put around my throat, then start removing my clothes. Freya follows suit, and I find myself keeping my eyes away from her. It should be normal to see a werewolf naked, but there’s something far more intimate with her that I can’t place. “My parents were gonna build here and move the whole pack eventually.” I frown and thumb the keys around my neck, running my thumb along one jagged edge. “It probably would’ve been done by now if they hadn’t…” Pain twinges in my heart, so I shrug. “Anyway. I thought you might like a run.”
Then, I shift, shedding my human skin and leaving my troubles behind.
Freya
Eve is absolutely stunning as a wolf. I’d been so focused on fighting her the other day that I didn’t even stop to think about the way she looked. I keep up with her stride for stride, my tawny fur brushing her midnight. I nip playfully at her when we reach a clearing with waterfalls that descend into pools, and she flips her head around and nips back with a little bark. Her eyes are lit with humor, and I dodge her half-hearted attack.
When her eyes face mine, a shiver runs through me. To avoid her gaze, I leap into the shallow water of the nearest pool, using my snout to splash her. She skitters away from the icy water, and I laugh internally. After the initial shock wears off, though, she stomps into the water with me, using her heft to shove my narrower body. I trip over a rock and fall in, ice soaking through my double coat of fur. The shock is so great that I shift back, goosebumps rising on my pale skin.
“Shit, Eve, it’s cold,” I say when words return, but I don’t stand up. There’s something about baring myself to her that feels like too much. I kick the rock I tripped over and go further into the water where it grows deeper. I dive below. The only way to get used to this kind of water is to totally immerse myself.
When I come up for air, Eve has followed me, back in her human form as well. Her hair isn’t curly anymore, instead slick and clinging to her skin. A grin lights her face in a way I’ve never seen before. Happiness is very becoming for her. She splashes me, and I pull myself under to avoid the attack. I open my eyes in the dank water, her legs barely visible. I dive toward her and grab her foot, dragging her under just enough to submerge her head. A muffled scream comes from her, and I laugh and go back to the surface.
This moment is enough for me to forget everything else going on. Right now, I’m just a girl having a good time with a friend. Eve grins at me, and I freeze in place, my own happiness stuck on my face with the force of her emotions.
When I shake it off, I drag myself away from her. Not too far, but enough that we won’t accidentally touch.
As the afternoon wears on, the water grows too cold, and we have to climb out. We bask on the rock shelf nearby, staring at the sky and basking in the late afternoon sun. My eyes flutter shut, and I sigh.
“Why didn’t you take Anderson as a mate?” Eve asks, and my eyes snap back open. I glance over, and her green eyes are boring into mine.
I open my mouth, then close it. I hadn’t even considered claiming Anderson. I always expected that he would claim me. “I don’t know,” I answer honestly.
Eve looks away, releasing me from her stare. Wind rustles the trees around us, and maple seeds twirl down from above, their little propellor-blades slicing the air.
“You could always pick a guy outside the pack,” Eve says nonchalantly. “It’s not unheard of.”
I keep watching her, the water droplets glistening on her warm skin that practically glows in the light. I never used to look at Anderson that way. Or Thompson. They were always just a means to an end.
“I don’t want a guy,” I say, the words weighed heavy with the awaited judgement.
Her eyes flick back to mine, her eyebrows tilting. “Are you not interested in taking a mate?”
I shake my head, frustration and anxiety pooling together in my heart. “That’s not…” I let out a rush of air and sit up, crossing my arms over my chest in an attempt to cover myself. I squeeze my eyes shut, my hands tightening on my forearms.
Eve’s hand lands on my shoulder, and her voice is quiet and filled with understanding. “Freya, are you gay?” I nod, my wet hair sticking to my skin uncomfortably in the muggy afternoon. I still can’t bear to look at her, though. She sighs. “Freya, there’s nothing wrong with that. You know that, don’t you?”
I want to explain to her why she’s wrong. All I’ve heard from the pack for the past year is how females are meant to mate and continue the species, and not doing so makes you useless. Instead, I nod once. Relief floods through me, the tension releasing from my body. “Thank you,” I breathe. Even if Kenneth claims the pack, all of my instincts recognize Eve as the true leader. Her affirmation means more than I could ever say.
“Let’s get home,” she says, glancing to the sky. “It’s gonna be dinner time soon, so we should check on the pups.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Thompson
I answer the office phone on the first ring while I sit at the desk, sorting through papers as usual. It had shocked me to see Freya take down Eve so easily yesterday, and all the hope that had built of her taking the pack back had drained away. If she can’t defeat Freya in a simple spar, there’s no way she can defeat my father in a match to the death.
“Hello?” I ask, expecting another bill collector.
There’s a crackle on the other line, and something shifting, like the caller hadn’t actually been expecting an answer.
“Hi, this is Daisy Foster with Foster Commercial. I was trying to contact Kenneth Jackson about an offer on the apartment building?” The last sentence is a question, like she’s not sure she dialed the right number.
My throat closes up as an idea comes over me. It’s stupid, but I know my voice has deepened to sound just a bit like my father.
“This is Kenneth,” I say after clearing my throat.
A sigh of relief comes through the line. Then, “Thank goodness. I’ve been so mixed up. You ever have one of those days?”
I wait for her to continue speaking as my heart races. If my father catches me, I’m sure to get a beating. I tap my fingers on the desk and strain my ears to listen for any approaching footsteps.
“Anyway,” she says after rambling about her day, “we’ve got an offer on your building, and I must say that it’s very fair.” Some papers shuffle on the other line, and I continue to wait. I don’t want to speak too muc
h. I don’t know how much of my father’s voice she’s heard, and I can’t arouse suspicion. “A hospice company wants to completely renovate the building for luxury retirement apartments. You’re in such a prime area of downtown, really up-and-coming but secluded enough to not bother retirees, you know?”
I grunt in response, waiting for this rambling woman to get to the point. Dad is selling the building? Where the hell is the pack supposed to live? I open another random folder on my desk, only half-listening to Daisy at this point. I’m too busy searching for anything important and listening in case my father comes back.
A sheet of paper falls out of the folder, floating to the ground. I pick it up, but something about the circled number at the bottom of the page the page freezes me in place.
Ten thousand per pup.
What the hell does that mean?
“Daisy, I’m gonna have to call you back,” I breathe, hanging up before she has the chance to respond. I snap a photo of the paper on my phone, then the rest in the folder just in case. Then, I head down to the basement, taking the steps two at a time in my rush to get to Eve.
I throw open the door to the file room, pacing the aisles to no avail.
“Eve?” I call, my hands trembling as I imagine all the horrible things that could have happened to her. Did my father find out who she really is?
I shake the thought away. She’s just taking a break, or she’s exploring. Maybe she moved on to a different room. This is the only file room I know of in the basement, though. As far as I know, the rest are just empty spaces.
I pace down the hall, throwing doors open and calling her name. No response.
When I open the final door, the sight stuns me so much that I have to take a step back.
Eve is sitting against a countertop, a wolf pup asleep in her lap. Freya is here, too, running around and letting more pups chase her. They must be real wolves, because born werewolves don’t transform so young that they would look like puppies. Cages line the back wall, and a yellowed fridge is plugged in next to the countertop.
The moment I enter, all movement ceases. The pups cringe, a few of them running to cower in their cages. One growls and yips at me, and I look back and forth between Freya and Eve.
“What the hell is this?” I ask incredulously. Why would there be real wolves in the basement?
Freya’s playful smile fades away, and her shoulders hunch. Eve stands up and looks between Freya and me.
“Short answer? We don’t know,” she says. “Long answer? Your father has been keeping changed pups locked in the basement. He claims that they’re sick and that’s why they can’t change back.”
Sick? Changed? It takes my brain far too long to catch up to the horror of the situation.
“They’re…children?” I ask, my hands clenching into fists as I consider the ramifications of this news. The pup barks at me again, and I watch it. Its eyes are too aware, too human. How could I have mistaken them for real wolves for even a moment?
I take a step into the room, and then another, like my body is running on autopilot. My phone burns a hole in my pocket as the numbers start to make sense.
“I don’t know if they’re sick,” I say, my voice a husk. I crouch on the ground, holding a hand out for the pup to sniff. It approaches slowly.
“He’s okay,” Freya mumbles, her voice gentler than I could have ever imagined it being. This is a whole different side to her. She’s always been a stoic, put-together girl, but now there’s something more free about her. I’m not sure what to think of it. The pup stumbles forward and presses his forehead against my hand. He’s tall and lanky, shaped almost like a German shepherd.
“What do you mean they might not be sick?” Eve asks, crossing her arms over her chest. I dig my phone out of my pocket and open the images before handing it to her. She scrolls through, her eyes tracing over each one thoroughly before moving on. With each one, her eyes widen. “Fuck,” she breathes.
Freya holds a hand out, and Eve wordlessly passes her the phone. She curses as well, her eyes welling up with tears. She passes the phone back to me.
“Ten thousand per pup,” she says, her voice filled with venom. “He’s doing this. Kenneth is turning them, forcing them to stay in their wolf forms, and then…” she chokes on the end of the sentence.
Eve finishes the thought for her. “He’s selling them. To hunters. I heard rumors about the hunters using wolves, but I didn’t think…” She shakes her head, the shock turning to hot, burning anger. I stand up, and the pup scampers away. “It’s time. I’m going to kill Kenneth,” she says with a finality that makes me shiver.
A voice from the hallway startles us all. “Good luck with that.” I spin around to find my father standing there, watching us with amusement in his eyes. “Eve, I should have known. It’s lovely to have you back.” Then, he lifts a gun and pulls the trigger.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Anderson
I can’t stop thinking about Thompson’s words. He likes me? When did that start? And why didn’t I know about it sooner? I check a set of IDs, then wave the group of college girls into the club. Do I like Thompson, too? It’s not something I’ve ever considered, if I’m being honest. Kissing him had been on a whim, although I have to admit that I’d felt a burst of pleasure at knowing that he had feelings for me.
I wish I were there right now instead of being stuck at work. I need to sort out these feelings that are bubbling in my chest, threatening to burst. We need to have a long talk about all of this as a group, but we haven’t had the chance. After being defeated by Freya, Eve had gone for a long ride on her motorcycle by herself, and she hadn’t returned by the time I got up this morning. All I got from her was a text saying See you tonight.
I lean back against the cool brick of the building, listening to the St. Louis evening as it wears on. The line is beginning to dwindle, which makes sense for the middle of the week.
A message dings through on my phone, and I glance around for my boss before checking it. There’s nobody outside right now, so it shouldn’t be a problem.
Emergency. Eve in trouble. He knows.
Freya’s message is frantic and short, and it sends my heart into a flurry.
I look around once again, and a nearby howl rips through the air, the tone filled with anguish and fear.
I take off immediately, shifting before I can stop myself. My paws pound the paved sidewalk, and I sprint through the abandoned city streets at a pace I didn’t know I had in me.
As I approach the building, another howl rings out, but it’s cut off. I shift back and rip the front door to the building open, sprinting through the halls. Where are they? I make it out into the courtyard. I know Kenneth, and if he wants to punish Eve, he’s going to make it a spectacle.
I burst out into the courtyard, shifting back into my wolf form. I need all my senses on high alert, and being human isn’t going to accomplish that. The sight ahead of me doesn’t make sense, though.
There’s a crowd gathering, but they’re staying far enough back that I can see through them. I push through to find Kenneth and Freya. She has a fresh wound on her face, her nose swollen and crooked while she holds one limp arm up to her chest. A shirtless and bound Thompson lifts his head when I arrive, and a ghastly mark covers one cheekbone, a bubbling cut that seeps red and some sort of puss. He’s handcuffed down, a chain attaching his bound hands to a spike in the ground that I know to be attached to a concrete block buried deep in the earth.
The worst of all of it, though, is Eve. She’s lying across the ground, her body limp and frail. Her skin is paper-white, a stark contrast to the tan we’re all so used to.
“My own son,” Kenneth barks, “conspired with his mate to kill me.” Something shines in his hand, and he slashes another mark on Thompson’s bare skin. The silver knife slices through like butter, and the skin hisses. A woman in the crowd cries out, but nobody moves to defend him. To defy an alpha is to sign your own death warrant.
I tak
e a step forward, and Kenneth snarls at me. “If you don’t want to end up like these traitors, you should back away,” he shouts, and I cringe, turning my eyes down to my mate. Her chest moves shallowly with gasping breaths, and her hands twitch as her empty eyes face the sky. The evening is young, and golden light splashes over her like an angel that’s been struck down.
“Check her,” Kenneth says, shoving the knife in Freya’s hand. She fumbles and drops it, then picks it up carefully by the leather-wrapped hilt. She hiccups as tears stream down her face. For some reason, her wounds aren’t healing as quickly as they should. She stumbles carefully over to Eve’s immobilized body, crouching down.
Eve’s lips move, but her words are indiscernible from outside the hellish circle that Kenneth has created.
“Don’t touch her,” Thompson cries. Kenneth slices into him again, this time with a clawed hand, and he yelps in pain.
In a movement too quick to stop, Eve’s hand flies up and tangles in Freya’s hair. Then, she drags herself up and clamps her teeth down on Freya’s throat, blood dripping from the grisly wound. Before she can tear Freya’s throat out, though, Kenneth stomps over and kicks her in the jaw, and she goes down.
A jolt of electricity runs through me, and I take a step back. My breath rushes out of me, and I look to Thompson. His eyes widen as he stares at the women on the ground. He felt it, too. He must have.
“I’m going to take this she-wolf and lock her up,” Kenneth shouts over the voices that have started to mumble over the action. “If anyone is found helping her or her mates, there will be hell to pay.” His eyes are crazed, and he lifts a gun, pointing it right at me. I can’t get away fast enough before he pulls the trigger, and my body grows immobile in moments.
Rogue Wolf (Lycans of Eve Book 1) Page 10
