by Laura Taylor
“You’re running with us,” Baron said, a command, not a request. Mark looked completely baffled.
“Faeydir wants you to come,” Dee said apologetically. “She’s being a little stubborn about it.”
Strangely, Mark’s mood seemed to improve at the news. “Okay. Yeah, if you think that’ll help.”
Baron looked satisfied. “Now, is there anything else your precious wolf wants?”
Faeydir wasted no more time, not even to let Baron finish the sentence, and she surged forward in Dee’s mind. Dee retreated, gave the wolf room, and embraced the rush of electricity through her body.
Faeydir paused once she was in her wolf form. Shook herself all over. Waited a moment longer while the four wolves around her took form.
And then she took off.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Mark had been surprised when he’d been ordered to accompany Dee on her run. He’d been in a foul mood, an idle glance at the calendar this morning reminding him that today would have been Luke’s birthday; so when he was told that today was the day Dee would finally be let out of the cage – on a trial run only, it had been emphasised – he’d found himself unable to summon even the most rudimentary enthusiasm. And then he’d been called over to her, expecting that Baron was about to send him on another useless errand, or tell him to go back inside so as not to distract Faeydir with his presence. So the invitation to join the run had been a pleasant surprise.
Given Faeydir’s past behaviour, Mark had been expecting the unexpected where she was concerned, so when she took off, he was ready, following on powerful limbs with a long stride that easily kept up with the smaller female.
Baron, Caroline and Tank were right beside him, keeping pace as Faeydir set off on a sprint, tongue lolling, seeming to enjoy the freedom in a way that had even Mark finding a measure of joy in it.
At the start, the more experienced wolves simply let her run, knowing she’d been locked up for a long time and needed to let off a little steam. With a sly check over her shoulder, the wolf slowed, invigorated by the first mad dash and perhaps ready to look around at a more sedate pace.
She darted right suddenly, under a bush, and her four guards followed, razor-sharp reflexes responding in a split second. Over a rock. Under a fallen log. Mark didn’t start to worry until they reached a clearing and Faeydir led them in a flat-out sprint across the open space. His feet scrambled on the loose litter as she changed direction again, and he heard Baron growl beside him. She was trying to lose them! There was going to be hell to pay if she escaped. She was already gaining a significant lead, and when she disappeared into a thick stand of bracken, he was forced to slow, following her by scent and sound, until he burst out the far side…
Faeydir was nowhere to be seen. Caroline charged into the clearing, nose to the ground.
Faeydir leapt out of a hollow log, skidding to a halt scant inches from Mark, and he turned on her instinctively, teeth bared, prepared for an attack…
Faeydir spun and leapt away again, racing back towards the log and leaping up on top of it. Down onto a rock. Back over to Mark, shoulders bent low, tail up and wagging. And he suddenly had to rethink his entire take on the run. She wasn’t escaping. She was… playing!
Faeydir whined another invitation, then she was off again, darting around Baron, racing past a growling Caroline, and barrelled right into Tank, who seemed to have caught onto her game. He rolled with her, regained his feet and lightly nipped her flank as she shot past him, then gave chase.
Mark let out a huff and realised his tail was already up and wagging. If he was human, he would have been grinning from ear to ear right now. And why the hell not? The simple joy of the game surprised him, lifting him out of his dark mood, and he took off after Faeydir, took a short cut, and surprised her by leaping out from behind a boulder, right in her path. She skidded to a halt, looking as startled as he had hoped… and then darted off again.
She led them on a merry chase, through a stream, up the hill, then found a tall outcrop of rock. She leapt up on top of it, panting, and looked around as the rest of them caught up, gathered at the base of the rock. Baron and Caroline had both refused the game, merely keeping pace and tolerating her mischief, and now that she had decided to play ‘king of the castle,’ Caroline was looking less pleased than ever. She took a step forward, and Mark knew that was exactly what Faeydir wanted – a last-ditch attempt at getting the sombre, grumpy wolf to play.
Caroline wouldn’t take the bait, though, and merely growled, hackles up, tail high. Deprived of a playmate, Faeydir cocked her head, sniffed the air… and then threw her head back and let out a spine-tingling howl.
Baron charged into her at full speed, toppling her off the rock. She landed in a tangle of limbs, her fall only partly cushioned by the thick bed of leaves, and Mark dashed forward, knowing she wouldn’t understand her mistake.
One of the firm rules of the Den was ‘No Howling.’ While dogs were known to howl, and an occasional slip would be dismissed by the neighbours as simply a domestic pet, the risk on the estate was that one wolf howling tended to encourage all the rest, regardless of their discipline and training, and there was little explanation for a dozen full-throated wolf howls echoing across the landscape.
But, new as she was to the Den, no one had thought to tell Dee.
Baron leapt down from the rock and circled around the fallen wolf, and Mark charged between him and Faeydir. Acting on pure instinct, he bared his teeth and let out a long, low growl, while at the same time wondering what the hell he was doing. As alpha, Baron had the right to discipline the rest of the wolves, and the responsibility to protect them from mistakes, but all Mark felt was the undeniable need to protect Dee from his attack. It was an act of pure lunacy – he couldn’t best Baron in a fight, and blocking him was an act of insubordination. But it was the same instinct that had had him killing scientists in the lab and thinking up excuses to visit Dee in the cages, and it was as relentless now as it had been then. He was aware that his body language was a mess of contradictions, tail tucked, ears flat back, despite his challenge to the alpha – an all too clear indication that he was uneasy about going up against the lead male of their pack. But the need to protect Dee was stronger, and he stood his ground, waiting for Baron’s reaction.
It came in the form of a deep growl, bared teeth, a move towards him, and Mark took a step back, preparing himself for a fight.
Faeydir rose cautiously to her feet, keeping her head low, her tail down, and edged towards Baron, clearly taking the submissive route. It was entirely appropriate, the type of exchange that might happen a dozen times a day between various pack members of different rank, but something about it rankled Mark now, something that rebelled against seeing her acting so submissive. But then she nudged his shoulder, a whine in her throat, and slunk past him. Keeping her body low, she approached Baron and lay down at his feet, a clear surrender, an attempt to appease the dominant member of the pack.
Baron’s growl faded away. He stood a moment longer, then turned his back on her and walked away. Faeydir sat up and Mark couldn’t help but give her a cursory sniff, checking whether she was injured. There was no scent of blood, no sign of pain when he nudged her gently with his nose. She rose to her feet, rubbed her head briefly against his shoulder, then moved further into the clearing after Baron. The alpha male had apparently decided they’d had enough for one day. He turned towards the manor, gave a huff that was part irritation, part command, and headed back through the undergrowth. Playtime was over.
Dee fell in behind him, Mark immediately behind her, while Caroline and Tank spread out on either side of them. There would be consequences for this later, he knew, both for his own actions, and for Dee’s. And questions about why he would dare get in Baron’s way over what was really a minor incident.
Now that the heat of the moment was over, Mark didn’t have a clue what he’d been thinking. He had no business butting in the way he had. All he knew was that something ab
out Dee brought out a protective urge in him that would not be refused.
Dee was aware of her wolf arriving back at the manor, and pressed herself forward, anticipating the need to shift, to give a report on the outing.
Baron led the way along the drive to the base of the stairs. Caroline shifted before she’d even stopped, a seamless change in which one stride was on grey paws and the next was on black boots. Dee found herself envying her skill. There were still times when she had trouble keeping her balance after a shift, even when she was standing still. Tank and Mark followed suit, and Dee was just gathering herself for her own shift when Caroline seemed to run out of patience.
“Dee? Human form. Now.”
Sheesh, Dee thought, registering a wave of irritation from Faeydir. The wolf was inclined to stay, just to piss the woman off, until Dee reminded her of the cage that was waiting for them both. And then Faeydir thrust Dee forward so quickly she landed in a heap on the ground, hardly knowing which way was up.
She looked up, seeing Baron looming over her, huge and black with a very human intelligence shining in his canine eyes, and she scooted back involuntarily. He looked so much bigger from this angle.
For a moment the two of them just stared at each other. And Dee realised she’d never really taken the time to look properly at the black wolf. His fur was thick, almost shaggy. There was a faint streak of white over his left eye. His shoulders were wide, his neck thick, though half the bulk of him was probably just fur. Even so, he was a wolf of formidable size.
After reorienting herself, Dee stood up, her legs trembling a little. She turned to face Caroline since Baron seemed to have no inclination to shift forms.
“Not bad for a first try,” Caroline said, which Dee took to be high praise. “How much of that was you, and how much was the wolf?”
“All wolf,” Dee answered, feeling the instant disappointment in the woman. “I was watching, listening, even making suggestions at times, but in truth, I wasn’t controlling anything back there. Just as well, I think,” she added, with a glance at Baron. He was still sitting there, panting, his teeth long and sharp and white. “I wouldn’t have known what to do when Baron told me off,” Dee admitted. “I think I would have just made things worse, if it was left up to me.”
“We should have warned you,” Caroline said, and Dee suspected that was as close to an apology as the woman ever got. “No howling. It draws too much attention from the neighbours.”
“I imagine there are a dozen or more rules I should have been following,” Dee said, trying to look at the incident lightly. “You can’t teach me everything on day one.” It had been terrifying watching the huge wolf come at her, feeling the overwhelming strength of him, wondering how Faeydir would react. But in her mind, Faeydir merely shrugged. There had been no teeth involved, she informed Dee. No fight, no real aggression, just a warning that was ultimately for the pack’s good. As far as wolf relationships went, it was a mild incident hardly worth mentioning.
Baron finally decided to shift back into human form, and he stood for a long moment, silently assessing Dee. “Tank?” he said finally. “Could you watch Dee for a little while? I need to talk to Caroline.”
“Sure thing,” Tank said, shooting a cheeky smile Dee’s way.
“And Mark? You’re coming inside for a little chat as well,” Baron said, before heading up the stairs without a backward glance.
Caroline waited silently as Baron asked Mark to wait in the hall. They had headed for the library, a wide room full of history, genealogies and storybooks about Faeydir-Ul and the first shape shifters. She would never admit it, but Caroline loved this room. It was warm and welcoming, the very atmosphere inviting visitors to stay, to take up a volume and sit, read, enjoy a moment’s peace. In her rigorous training schedule and with the duties of running the Den, quiet moments were few and far between for Caroline – and all the more precious because of it.
Baron joined her and closed the door, and Caroline quickly banished all thoughts of warm, quiet evenings. This man was part boulder, part freight train, and far too prone to bludgeoning his way through things rather than stopping to think them through. They’d been butting heads ever since Caroline had become alpha female, and she was honest enough, with herself at least, to privately admit that some days she argued with him just to prove that she could. Other days, however, the arguments were based on sound logic and very real concerns for the wellbeing of their Den.
“Well?” Baron demanded, in his usual blunt fashion. Why couldn’t he just ask a simple question, Caroline thought in irritation. Why did everything have to be a demand?
“That was interesting,” she began, not wanting to put all her cards on the table too quickly. “It seems Dee was telling the truth. The wolf just wanted to run.”
“She just admitted that she had basically no control over the wolf.”
“And you said we would try this on the assumption that she and the wolf are two separate minds. So, on that basis, I wouldn’t expect her to have much control. But she didn’t cause trouble, so that, at least, is a step in the right direction.”
“The wolf flatly refused to come out until she got her own way.”
“Which was entirely within the limits of the rules we set. We said she couldn’t shift for three minutes. We didn’t say she had to do so immediately when those three minutes were up. And you could have refused to let Mark come. There’s no guarantee she wouldn’t have cooperated, given the right motivation. And,” Caroline added, enjoying finding the fuel to argue with him, “she shifted back again when she was told to – albeit a rather rough transition, but I’m not going to hold that against her.”
Baron watched her silently, the same way a wolf watches a deer it wants to eat, and she got the feeling he was going to try and force her hand, one way or another, so she decided to simply pre-empt the manipulation and jump in feet first.
“I don’t see a need to cage her again immediately,” Caroline said, with an air of nonchalance. “I would agree to a trial period for her to be let out around the estate.”
If Baron was surprised then he hid it well. “That’s quite a turnaround from the last discussion we had on this.”
“And that was the purpose of this trial, wasn’t it?” Caroline snapped. “To convince me that it’s all going to be hunky dory for an untrained stray to wander the grounds? Well, mission accomplished. What I wanted was evidence that the wolf is willing to follow basic rules. And from what I’ve seen, it looks like she is.”
Baron’s expression was unreadable. Bastard.
“So what about Mark?” Caroline went on, not interested in playing the waiting game. “Are you going to fight him?” As an issue of dominance between two males, it technically wasn’t her business. But even so, it was a wise policy for her to keep an eye on any potential conflicts within the pack.
“I’m willing to try talking some sense into him. But I doubt it will go down well. So then we’ll fight. A challenge like that doesn’t just slide under the carpet. But I wanted to run something past you as well.” Baron paused, choosing his words carefully. “Letting Dee roam loose by herself is unwise. Having Tank babysit her all the time is inconvenient.” That was an understatement. Tank was a major part of their security force and often acted as bodyguard for any shifter who left the estate. He had enough to do without having to watch Dee twenty-four hours a day. “So how about this: Dee is allowed to go about unaccompanied inside the manor, but to go outside, she has to be chaperoned. And since Mark insists on sticking his nose into her business, let him be the chaperone of choice. He’ll have to make himself available for at least an hour each day, and he’ll be responsible for her behaviour while she’s out.”
Caroline laughed – actually laughed. “I don’t know whether you’re trying to piss Mark off, or do him a favour. You know he has his eye on that girl.”
“I’m aware of it.”
“And you’re still willing to let him play babysitter? When he’s clearly biased
in her favour?”
“Mark’s not going to let her do anything stupid. He’s loyal to Il Trosa. Always has been.”
“Fine,” Caroline conceded. “Mark can play chaperone. But if Dee breaks any of the rules…”
“If she causes trouble of any kind, then she can go back to her cage,” Baron agreed to her unspoken condition. And that was one of the things she respected about him. When push came to shove, Baron always put the wellbeing of the Den first. Every time.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
After getting back from their run, Tank escorted Dee to the sitting room while they waited for Caroline and Baron to finish talking. Still feeling restless from her prolonged captivity, she found herself unable to sit down, so she paced the room, looking at the collection of books, the paintings on the walls, all the while aware of the sound of people coming and going in the foyer.
After a while, she crossed the room to look outside again. Faeydir was being quiet, content to sit back for a while after an afternoon of fun and exercise, but when Dee caught sight of the gathering of people on the lawn, the wolf sat up attentively.
“What’s happening out there?” she asked Tank. It didn’t seem like they were simply loitering after her outing – there was a tenseness and restlessness to the group, like they were waiting for something to happen.
Tank came to stand beside her, unsurprised by the sight. “I suspect they’re gearing up for a fight. That sort of thing tends to draw spectators.”
“Who’s fighting?”
“That would be Baron and Mark.”
Dee spun around in shock. “What? Why?”
Tank raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know?” he asked, in a tone of voice that suggested she already did.
“Because of that incident in the forest?” Dee was dismayed. “That was a tiny thing! A minor scuffle. Why should they have a fight over it?”
