Styx's Storm

by Lora Leigh

  e she had disappeared, the men in the room too aware, too sensitive and too uncertain about the emotions that flowed between the two women.

  One thing was for damned certain, they knew each other well, and Storme had just found another part of her past to run away from: the lupina, whose soft blue eyes shimmered with tears.

  "Storme wasn't very old when the first Breed rescues began," Hope stated as Styx set a pot of coffee on the kitchen table in front of his alpha and lupina almost an hour later. "That was fourteen years ago, so she would have been ten perhaps. I met her just after Wolfe and his pack escaped from Mexico. Delia, my mother, was sent to the Omega labs for nearly a year before we were transferred back to the States and she left me with my father's sister. Storme was there, lonely, always reaching out to a father and brother who had no real time for her."

  "Navarro told me the labs there were worse than the others," Styx commented as he glanced back at her.

  "They were horrendous," she agreed painfully as Jonas and Rachel watched her heavily. "I didn't know about whatever project was going on there. Mother didn't take me to the labs because she didn't want the Coyote Breeds there to sense whatever hormonal reaction had begun in my body. She wanted to study it for herself. But I know Storme was taken often to the labs where wounded and experimental Breeds were kept. It was a hellhole there. She saw only the worst of what the scientists had created the Breeds to be. The fury and the agonizing rage that filled them, a result of the pain they endured from the experiments or the wounds they carried."

  "Were you close?" Jonas questioned her.

  Hope shrugged. "At one time, perhaps. For years I've waited, hoping she would contact me, hoping she would trust me with whatever information her father gave her, but I never heard from her."

  Wolfe spoke up then. "Jonas, what information does she have that's so important to your child?" The Wolf Breed alpha leaned back in his chair and watched the director curiously. The fact that Dr. Armani was under orders by the Bureau not to reveal the details of the information she had found was known by the alpha. It was an order he wouldn't force her to break unless he had no other choice.

  Jonas sighed. "I'm not certain of the parameters of Project Omega. What I'm certain of is that somehow it coincides with whatever Brandenmore was researching as well. A serum or virus that has halted his aging and begun regenerating his cellular structure. Organs are healing and rejuvenating, at a very slow rate, yet still it's happening. At the time Brandenmore kidnapped our daughter, Amber, he injected her with something we believed was a sedative until I nearly killed Brandenmore. He told me then it was an experimental drug and that if he died, the secret of saving her if the reaction became adverse would die with him. I have to admit, I didn't completely believe him until the night I heard her purr."

  Styx blinked back at Jonas as Rachel's breath caught on a sob.

  There were rumors of Council scientists attempting to create a virus that would alter the DNA of humans after birth. In each case, the test subject had died in horrible pain from the agony of the body attempting to both fight as well as accept the strange genetic virus.

  The conflict within the test subjects had created horrifying stories of screaming, mindless humans who had survived until their hearts had finally ruptured from the stress of the genetic mutations.

  "Are there any signs the baby is in distress?" Hope whispered, compassion and sympathy spilling from her eyes as she stared at Rachel.

  Rachel, thankfully, shook her head. "The scientists can find no Breed genetics or hormones in her system to match those of Brandenmore. All we have are the odd purrs. It's happened twice now, and each time, Jonas has scented a hint of a Feline babe about her. Just as quickly, the scent as well as the purr is gone."

  "Then you believe the information Storme has is somehow related to the genetic experimentations on humans?" Wolfe asked, his tone boarding the harsh growl of an angered Wolf.

  Jonas nodded sharply. "I've let her run for ten years, hoping she would grow up, see the truth of the Council and the Breeds and accept my offer of help. Had I known her father had been insane enough to actually save the research conducted on Omega, then I would have captured her when she was fourteen. Unfortunately, I had no idea the full extent of the research the Montagues conducted."

  The fact that he hadn't was lying heavily on his shoulders. Styx could sense the director's regret as well as his inner fury.

  "What now, then?" Wolfe asked. "How do we force her to turn over the information?"

  "We force nothing." Styx crossed his arms over his chest and stared back at the four of them implacably, aware of Navarro coming to attention behind him in the corner of the room.

  Wolfe turned his head and narrowed his eyes. "Styx, you can't protect her from this. This is a woman and a battle you have to step away from."

  He was known to love women. Styx did love women. He protected them whenever possible simply because of their soft flesh and lush sensuality. And the very fact that they were indeed gentler, softer, and weaker than men, let alone Breeds.

  "He's acting as though he's mated her," Jonas stated. "But there's no mating scent, even after they've had sex. You need to advise your Breed a bit more firmly to back off, Alpha Gunnar."

  To give Wolfe credit, he did nothing of the sort. Instead, he shot Jonas an irate look as Rachel, Jonas's mate, rolled her eyes. Such autocratic orders were Jonas's trademark.

  "Styx?" Wolfe questioned him curiously. "What's going on?"

  "She's my mate." He made the declaration, knowing the very arguments Jonas had just made.

  The mating symptoms weren't strong yet, the scent of a mating was still undetectable. The scent of sex was far different from a mating scent.

  Jonas shook his head. "Do you smell a mating, Alpha Gunnar?"

  "Do you smell a lie, Director?" Wolfe shot back, his black eyes shifting to Jonas before returning to Styx. "Because I don't."

  "That protective instinct of his is overreacting," Jonas argued. "We all know how he is with his lovers, Alpha Gunnar. He has some kind of overinflated need to protect them at all costs."

  Bullshit.

  "Shut him up before I find myself arrested for killing our director, Wolfe," Styx grunted, with a suspicion he wasn't completely joking.

  "What makes you believe she's your mate?" Jonas breathed out roughly. "Come on, Styx, there are signs, and you know them. You have none of those signs."

  "That you can tell, Director," Styx growled. "And what I have can wait for Dr. Armani's analysis. It's none of your damned business."

  The signs of mating were still subtle. Itchy hormonal glands beneath his tongue that hadn't yet spilled the mating hormone. His skin was sensitive; each time he touched her he felt as though a static charge were building just beneath the flesh. The scent wasn't there though. He hadn't locked inside her when he had taken her the night before, and he wasn't out of his mind with the need for sex. More importantly, Storme wasn't out of her mind with the need for sex, which was one of the more well-known signs.

  "This is very much my business," Jonas stated, his tone turning icy once more. "It's my intent, Styx, to enact Breed Law where Ms. Montague is concerned if she doesn't willingly turn over the information she has. You know what that means. She's killed Breeds and actively worked against Breed society ..."

  "She killed fucking Council Breeds," Styx snarled furiously as he felt that burning, protective rage rising inside him once again. "And how has she worked against Breed society other than in your mind when she refused to give you something you wanted?"

  "Something that could save my child." Jonas came out of his chair, his hands flat on the table as his silver eyes flashed with deadly restraint. "She has worked against Breed society since she was eighteen years old and joined her first pure blood society. Shall I tell you the Breeds that group killed? Can you swear she had no part in those deaths?"

  "I can and will swear it." Styx leaned against the table himself now as pure animal determinatio
n began to fill him. "And I tell you now, you will not take my mate, nor will you place her under Breed Law. Attempt to do so and I will disappear with her so fast it will make your autocratic, god-syndrome head fucking spin like a windmill out of control."

  Once again, Jonas was nose to nose with someone, and this time, Styx determined, the director had bitten off more than he could chew.

  "Styx, stand down," Wolfe suggested. Surprisingly, it wasn't an alpha order, one of those orders he was bound by vows and by blood to obey.

  "She's my mate." His gaze never left Jonas's. "I am not required to obey any order that places my mate in harm's way. With all due respect, Alpha Gunnar, I will rip his throat out if he dares to attempt to take what is mine."

  There were few things a Breed could call his or her own, other than a mate. A mate was considered God's gift, His acceptance of and determination to see to the survival of the Breeds. Without His acceptance, mating wouldn't occur, and there would not have been the natural conception and birth of the Breed children that now existed.

  "You can try." Feline, furious, the growl in Jonas's voice had the hairs at the back of Styx's neck lifting in primal warning.

  Styx tensed, preparing himself for a fight as Navarro moved in behind him and Wolfe stood slowly to his feet. No one would back him in going against his alpha over his mate. Understanding and approving were two different things.

  "Styx, your mate will not be taken from Haven at any time," Wolfe stated as Styx narrowed his eyes in surprise.

  "She has to test as his mate first." Jonas's lips lifted in a snarl. "And how much do you want to bet she won't test positive for the Breed mating hormone?"

  Rachel and Hope moved away slowly. Not that Rachel did so easily, but Hope's whispered promise that Wolfe would handle it had her following the other woman, though she kept a wary eye on her husband.

  "Then let me put it this way, Director," Wolfe stated. "Ms. Montague will not be leaving Haven until Styx makes a formal declaration, rescinding his protection of her. Don't turn this into a battle, Jonas, because I promise you, you won't win against me."

  Alphas and their mates were sacred. Every Breed from Jonas down was beneath their rule, it didn't matter the species. If they were in Haven, then their very presence was their agreement to abide by the rules of the community and by the dictates Wolfe set out, until a formal complaint could be lodged and a tribunal of Breeds brought together. And Jonas knew it.

  Jonas eased back before straightening. "Do I have your promise, Alpha Gunnar, that this Breed will not leave Haven with Ms. Montague? I would hate to lose my child because of his stubbornness, or your lack of foresight."

  There weren't many Breeds or men that could get away with making such a statement to the powerful leader of the Wolf Breed community. The fact that Jonas did so, and would get away with it, was a testament to the sheer power he wielded as the director of the Washington, DC-based Bureau of Breed Affairs.

  "I swear I have no intentions of removing her from the safety of Haven unless I feel her safety is endangered by being here." And that was the only promise he was willing to give at this point.

  The fact that Jonas wasn't the least bit happy with it was apparent.

  Leaning forward, his hands against the table, the director issued a warning snarl. "Don't make the mistake of pushing me too far in this, Styx. Make no mistake, my patience is wearing thin. If my daughter ends up paying for Ms. Montague's stubbornness and hatred, then have no fucking doubt I will demand her punishment. To the fullest extent of Breed Law."

  And God help him, but there wasn't a Breed in Haven that would blame Jonas for it, even Styx.

  They all tensed further at the sound of the bedroom door opening then.

  "Wow, do I get to see a real catfight?" Storme questioned mockingly as she stepped into the kitchen and cast a look of disgust at Styx as well as Jonas. "And you Breeds wonder why I don't feel safe around any of you. All you want to do is fight. If not humans, then one another. Is there a pecking order for who gets to die first, or do you draw straws?"

  For the briefest second, despite the sarcasm in her voice, Styx swore he could just detect the pain and remorse in her voice, but he also scented the slightest hint of it in the air.

  Hope stepped forward at this point. "Ms. Montague, you are in the presence of an alpha of the Breed community. I demand that you show him the respect you would show any senator or congressman of this country." The cool and berating tone of her voice held no familiarity with the young woman she was speaking to now. Storme had offended her, and had broken an unwritten law of etiquette as far as the lupina was concerned. She had disrespected the alpha who had just willingly stood up for her.

  That impacted Hope, as well as the concern and lack of understanding about the young woman withholding vital information needed to save a child. To most Breeds, actually, all Breeds but those still under the control of the Genetics Council, there were few things more important than a child.

  "You want me to spit on him?" Storme widened her eyes and stared back at Hope in mocking disbelief. "If you insist, Mrs. Gunnar, but honestly, considering the fact that I haven't had my throat ripped out yet, and I haven't been skinned alive, I thought I'd at least give him the benefit of the doubt."

  "Unacceptable," Hope snapped. "Why don't you let us all know when you've grown up, Storme? Maybe then we'll begin to speak to you as we would an adult, rather than a child."

  To which Storme grunted, "Get off your high horse, Hope. We both know I'm not going to kowtow to a single Breed in this place, and the first chance I have to escape, then I'm gone. Let's not pretend I like any of you, and certainly let's not pretend that any Breed deserves anything from me. If your precious Wolf wants my respect, then he can earn it, just like anyone else does." Her gaze flicked to Wolfe as he stared at her with cool intent.

  When her lips opened to say more, Hope broke in with icy fury, her gaze glittering with the frustration and anger that brewed inside them all. "Say another disrespectful word in the presence of my mate and Haven's alpha, and I'll have you gagged if you're ever in his presence again," Hope stated, as her mate moved in closer. "Alpha Gunnar doesn't have to earn a damned thing from you, Storme. He earned it the day men like your father decided to create him to kill. The day he escaped rather than taking an innocent human life. Think of that one before you decide to insult him further."

  This wasn't a world where insults to the leader of the community could be taken lightly, and there was nothing Styx could do to ease the chastisement his mate received at the moment.

  It wasn't a democracy such as the one the nation had voted in so many centuries ago. But it wasn't corrupt, and it wasn't deserving of her disdain. If she was allowed to continue to offend Wolfe, no matter his friendship or the fairness he displayed, Wolfe would have no choice but to, at the very least, ostracize her, which would in turn bring the censure of the community against them both.

  "Styx, Hope." Wolfe laid his hand against his mate's back and rubbed his chin against the top of her hair before standing tall beside her once again. "Ms. Montague is not a part of the community, and therefore I can understand her ignorance as to the etiquette we have in place here," Wolfe stated as he stared back at Storme, his gaze penetrating, commanding. "Nothing more will be said of this, and I'm certain it won't happen again." Wolfe continued to hold Storme's gaze.

  Styx could feel the rigid set of her body and once again could smell her fear bleeding from her.

  The smart-assed cracks, the deliberate disrespect were the only weapons she had to wield at the moment, and though he understood her reasons, he couldn't allow it to continue. Aside from the fact that Wolfe and Hope were his leaders, they were deserving of more than Storme's sharp tongue and deliberate insults.

  "Perhaps it's time we leave, Wolfe." Hope leaned against her mate, her expression calm and no longer filled with compassion or warmth as she stared back at Storme. "Once Jonas and Styx have resolved this situation, then we can decide the measure
of aid Haven will lend Ms. Montague should she decide to leave our community."

  The implication that, at this moment, Hope really didn't give a damn what Storme did was clear.

  "I think we'll join you, Alpha Gunnar, Lupina," Rachel stated carefully as she moved to Jonas's side. "I could use some rest."

  The look she gave Storme was one filled with pain. No one knew for certain the information Storme carried, but Rachel was desperate to find a way to help her daughter before any problems arose.

  Jonas said nothing. He stared back at Storme with silver-eyed contempt before turning and leaving the cabin behind Wolfe and Hope. Navarro followed, but not before he glared back at Storme in disgust. "Your father once told me you had the heart of the Lion, the courage of the Wolf, and the logic of the Coyote. Tell me, Storme, how did you manage to fool him into believing you could actually be trusted to know whom to give that information to?"

  She flinched as the Wolf stepped out and closed the door softly behind him. For a moment, the room was filled with such agonizing indecision that it had a scent all its own.

  "Well, if I had known it was that easy to get rid of them, I would have insulted them sooner." She jerked out of his grip before turning and facing him, the false bravado in her voice and in her expression painful to witness. "Are we doing breakfast or arguing the rest of the morning?" A slender black brow arched mockingly. "Personally, I think I prefer food."

  Personally, he preferred doing her and showing her once and for all who dominated here and who would follow the orders. The Wolf inside him was pacing, snarling, demanding he do something to show her, to prove to her, that the contempt that poured out of her for him and his people would not be tolerated. Despite the pain and the indecision he knew she was fighting at the moment, no matter her fear or her battle to accept her present situation, he couldn't allow the disrespect to continue.

  It wouldn't be tolerated and it wouldn't be allowed.

  "I can make your stay here easy." He gave her a relaxed, confident smile. "Or I can show you how we treat those who want to consider themselves prisoners. Take your pick, Sugar, before I make the choice for you."

  CHAPTER 7

  Hope Bainesmith Gunnar.

  Storme remembered the young woman who had befriended her more than ten years before. Storme had been ten, Hope was now thirty years old. She didn't look thirty. She looked no different now than she had looked when she had been at the Omega compound and watched the Wolf Breeds as though searching for a familiar face, or a way to escape.

  Or perhaps even both.

  Storme remembered the day the news reports hit of the Wolf Breeds being granted the land in Colorado in recompense for America's part in funding the Genetics Council. She hadn't heard of the Wolf Breed alpha before then, but when a picture had flashed of Wolfe Gunnar and his new bride, the daughter of a Council scientist, Storme had felt her stomach clench in despair and fear for the young woman she had once looked up to.

  Over the years, she had feared for Hope, worried for her, terrified she was locked in a marriage she couldn't have possibly wanted.

  Yet the Hope she had seen when she arrived at Haven three days before wasn't a woman stuck in a relationship she didn't want. The woman she watched in the huge courtyard that was the center of the block of homes wasn't a woman unhappy with her life or with her husband.

  Hope Bainesmith Gunnar was a woman well content with the life and the creature she seemed to love.

  Standing at the back door now as dusk moved slowly over the mountain, arms crossed, a frown on her face, she watched as Hope played with an infant from the home next door.

  The child belonged to Aiden and Charity Chance. Aiden was head of security at Haven if she remembered correctly. The two-story cabin to the right of the Gunnars' was the Chance home. There was nothing ostentatious or elite about the home, despite the hierarchical place the Chances held within the pack at Haven.

  Like the Gunnar home, and the home belonging to Jacob and Faith Arlington to the left of it, it was two stories, a log cabin-style home that blended well with the trees that grew both in front of it and within the courtyard behind it.

  Lights hung from the trees to create soft, effective lighting in the central yard. Each of the twenty or so homes was built far enough apart for privacy inside, but opened into the central design to allow for full socialization.

  Wolves were far more social than the Felines, she had heard; in that case, it seemed that propaganda in favor of the Breeds was true.

  Now, as the lights brightened the area between Styx's home and those across from it, she watched as those who lived within this centralized grouping came together.

  Wolfe and Hope had come out first, followed by the Chances and the Arlingtons.

  Charity Chance had walked beside her tall, dark husband, Aiden, as he carried their infant snuggly against his broad chest. They had joined Hope and Wolfe in one of the gathering spots outfitted with comfortable outdoor furnishings, a fire pit and grill and an attractive overhead covering that blended with the branches of the trees above in case of rain.

  Jacob and Faith Arlington had followed. They carried food. Jacob with his dark coloring and the light auburn highlights to his hair had once been a part of several teams of Breeds sent out to locate hidden Council labs. He had been instrumental in locating and rescuing the rare, mysterious winged Breeds. His wife, Faith, liaison to the various packs and prides that were still spread out over the world, most in hiding, was tall and sleek, her long dark hair falling beneath her shoulders.

  She stood next to her husband at the grill, laughing, seeming to bask in what appeared to be the pure adoration that filled her husband's face.

  The three Breeds stared at their wives as though there was nothing on the Earth that could compare to them.

  How could that be true? It was a far different picture than those of blood and atrocities practiced within the Breed communities, pictures that the pure blood societies circulated.

  As food went on the grill, others began to arrive, until the area soon held more than two dozen Breeds and a few humans. There were a few American soldiers and technical support people who worked within Haven. But it was the Breeds she watched.

  Many of them sat on the outer perimeter of the impromptu party, watching, chatting, slowly warming to the laughter and camaraderie that seemed to exist. She didn't know how long she stood there watching, but as she watched, others slowly moved closer and became a part of the laughter-filled group.

  She had been there three days, and each evening she had stood here watching as the residents of Haven flowed in and out, moving within the acceptance their alpha gave so freely.

  "You could be a part of it."

  Storme swung around at the soft growl of Styx's voice behind her.

  Dropping her arms, she tucked her hands into the pockets of her borrowed jeans and glared back at him.

  "Just bring back some food if you don't mind." The smells alone were enough to tempt her to slip into the crowd of sharp-toothed creatures that still held the power to terrify her.

  His eyes narrowed.

  Each time he made the offer that she could accompany him, and each time she refused.

  "You could make an effort to get to know us," he pointed out, his voice sharp.

  Storme shrugged. "I just want the food, Styx, I don't want to become the meal."

  A muscle at his jaw flexed sharply as she lifted her chin, defying him to retaliate. Storme had learned early on that she wasn't the cowering type, just as she had learned that often her smart-ass perseverance provided the distraction needed for a Coyote or Council soldier to drop his guard. She'd escaped many times using such a strategy.

  And though she realize