by Lynn Graeme
Doing as he was told, listening to packmates intimidate and threaten the weaker members. Hunching down in silence as they pushed and demanded for him to get his act together, when every night in bed he’d scream and tear at the invisible manacles around his wrists.
The sinews on his arms stood out as his muscles tightened in instinctive reaction. He could barely see above the haze of red.
“Pull back, Liam.”
Isobel’s words were soft but no less effective. Liam subsided. This time he didn’t feel that disorienting crash into present-time, nor the shame. No, he had every right to be angry, and he was fully aware of it.
“You don’t speak to my mate that way,” he uttered in a voice laced full with deadly warning. “Ever.”
Connell’s eyes nearly bugged out. “Mate?”
Liam’s glare brooked no argument. An oath escaped Connell. Braden, meanwhile, was nearly incoherent with disbelief. Liam couldn’t read Isobel’s expression, and that didn’t sit well with him.
Then she smiled at him—a real one this time, one that met her eyes—and Liam relaxed.
“She’s not your mate,” Connell objected. “We already have your mate, lad. Hailee’s back home waiting for you.”
“Then I suggest,” Isobel cut in coldly, “that she stop waiting.” The look she cast Liam from beneath lowered lashes brimmed with heat and possessiveness.
Liam grinned.
Braden suddenly charged at Isobel with a roar of fury. Liam lunged toward him, but Isobel was already grabbing his cousin by the collar and rolling onto her back, using the momentum to hurl him behind her. He crashed into the dirt.
Liam grabbed Connell before the latter could act. In two seconds Isobel had her knee on Braden’s arms, pinned to his back and preventing him from moving. Her fist yanked his head back by the hair, her other hand holding a blade to his exposed neck.
Without looking up, she said, “I think your packmates like this position, Liam. They all seem to find ways to get themselves into it.”
“Let me go, lad.” Connell half-huffed, half-growled. He pawed uselessly at Liam’s arm hooked around his neck.
Connell had more mass than he did. There’d been a time when he could’ve easily broken away from Liam’s hold. The fact that he hadn’t was what made Liam release him and step back. Connell turned to face him, rubbing his neck, frustrated confusion etched on his craggy face.
“What the hell’s with you, lad?” he rumbled.
Liam paused, then glanced at where Isobel still held a hissing Braden down. “Isobel.”
She cast him a withering look, as if expecting him to ask for mercy on behalf of his cousins.
“Give us a minute?”
She narrowed her eyes at him, then at his cousins, distrust apparent in her gaze.
“It’s long past time we talked,” Liam said quietly. “I owe them that.”
“You owe them nothing,” she snapped, but she lifted off Braden and sheathed her blade. “You sure?”
“Yeah. They won’t club me on the head and drag me away.” Liam nearly smiled, recalling Naley’s words.
“Wouldn’t put it past them.” Isobel saw his expression and sighed, disgruntled. “Fine. I need a shower anyway. We’ll be waiting for you up at the house.” Her glare turned lethal. “They don’t come any closer than they already are.”
Liam nodded silently. He had no argument with that. He didn’t want his cousins anywhere near the home in which Isobel and Naley slept either.
Isobel’s glare swiveled back to Braden. “You’re approaching my land. I suggest you stay at least twenty feet away from the perimeter if you know what’s good for you.”
She swiveled around and marched off.
“Braden!” Liam roared.
Braden had surged after her, nails and teeth already elongating, heedless of the clothes ripping around him mid-shift. Liam shoved Connell aside and launched himself forward, heart pounding. Isobel whirled around to face the charging wolf.
Suddenly, Braden stiffened and gasped. All signs of wolf form receded as he shook violently, then collapsed onto the forest floor, limbs jerking beyond his control.
From the corner of his eye, Liam saw a blip of red. He turned his head, but the light was already gone.
“He got too close to the perimeter.” Isobel stood over the writhing man, watching him. She lifted her gaze to Liam’s. “I did warn him.”
“You did. He has no one to blame but himself.” All this time, and he’d had no idea of the extent of Isobel’s security measures. And she was worried about interlopers trying to invade her domain?
Liam looked down at his cousin, who lay twitching at his feet. Always pushing for his own way, no matter how many warnings. Mocking and ignoring all protests. He’d tried to attack Isobel. Liam’s goddamn mate.
“Sometimes,” he said, “they have to be forced to listen.” He kicked Braden in the ribs. The man hissed. “At least I know what’s in store if I ever get on your bad side.”
“The electroshock sensors only target unrecognized parties.” Isobel leaned forward and kissed Liam on the cheek. “I’ll see you at the house.”
“You will.” He turned his head to give her a hard kiss on the mouth. He knew his expression must’ve looked utterly feral. The responding look on Isobel’s face, in turn, was supremely satisfied.
She disappeared into the woods. Connell took a hesitant step forward, but Liam’s expression stopped him in his tracks. Liam planted his foot on Braden’s thigh—the same leg as his injured knee—and pressed down. Hard.
“Get up,” he growled, low and dangerous. “I want you awake for this, you damn coward.”
A gurgle of resentment and pain followed as Braden turned his face up to him. Slowly, the man crawled to his feet. Liam’s gaze was ice-cold.
“You don’t ever—ever—attack my mate again. You don’t come near any of mine again. You hear me?”
Braden bared a mocking set of teeth. Teeth of which immediately bore blood when Liam punched him in the face.
Braden threw himself forward in a shoddy attempt to headbutt Liam, but Liam had fought his way through a war and survived captivity. He’d learned all manner of brutal combat in the confines of a dark and dank cell. He’d crawled out countless of times from that bottomless pit of despair to swing his fists and unleash his claws again and again at every new opponent they threw at him.
His loud, aggressive, posturing cousin had never needed to fight for his own survival. His cousin was no match for him.
In another time and place, Liam might have pulled back his punches. Might have taken his cousin’s knee into account. But Braden had crossed a line with his repeated attempts to harm and insult Isobel, and to a lesser extent Naley. Braden had had his warnings, and he’d ignored all of them. There were no excuses left.
Connell was wise enough not to interfere as fists flew and teeth slashed. They came together in a flurry of snapping jaws and silver fur. A sharp whimper escaped Braden when Liam dropped him to the ground and sank his teeth into Braden’s shoulder.
“For God’s sake, lad!” This time Connell wrenched Liam off of Braden. Liam snapped at his hands, but it was only the alarm in Connell’s eyes that prevented Liam from turning on his other cousin as well. “What’s with you, lad? This is your pack!”
Liam shifted back into two-legged form and shook Connell off. Braden shifted as well, but remained writhing on the ground. Red slashes decorated his once-handsome face.
Liam stepped back from both of them, chest heaving as he dragged in air and marshaled his rioting emotions. He didn’t hunch as he boldly met first Connell’s incredulous stare, then Braden’s weak one. His shoulders were wide, set back. He wasn’t backing down on this one. He wasn’t backing down from them.
They weren’t coming anywhere near Isobel and Naley for as long as he lived.
Connell stared at him, half in shock, half in awe. “You’re different now,” he whispered. “You’ve changed.”
Liam said n
othing. It was obvious he had changed. He was no longer the young man they once knew.
Connell could see this. He shook his head, his expression now one of regretful disbelief. “You should never have joined that war.”
“I could never have stayed anyway.”
“You sure about that?”
Liam looked at Braden, then at Connell once more. “Isobel and Naley are my pack now,” he said quietly.
Connell’s mouth opened, closed, opened again.
“We’re your pack, lad. Always have been.”
“You were. But this… .” Liam exhaled. “This is where I belong now.”
Connell shook his head in desperate denial.
“Tell Uncle Angus I said thank you. I’m grateful for all he and the pack have done for me. But it’s time for me to move on.”
“Liam… .” Braden began with a wheeze.
“I’m not coming back, Braden. I mean it. My place is here, with them.” Liam glanced over his shoulder in direction of the house, then returned his gaze to Connell. “I’m sorry.”
His cousins were utterly still. It was as if the fight had gone out of them. They were visibly struggling to understand that Liam was serious in his pronouncement. It was obvious they hadn’t expected this. It hadn’t even occurred to them that they wouldn’t get their way.
The anger receded, loosening Liam’s muscles. Tension subsided and was replaced by genuine sorrow.
No matter how complicated their history together, they had had history together. His packmates, all of them, had been there for him. They’d taken him in when he’d needed a family. Let him make a living at something he was good at. Continued looking for him even after all this time.
Their methods had been overbearing at times, cruel with their conditions, but had led him to where he was today.
Anger warred with frustration, laced with remorse. Liam didn’t know how to process any of these emotions. Neither did he know how to handle the profound sense of loss he felt now, despite the fact that he couldn’t—wouldn’t—change his mind for all the world.
Maybe Isobel is right, he thought bleakly. He’d been struggling all this time, trying to breathe and figure out his own voice from amid the others bashing around in his head. He had all these conflicting feelings of frustration and guilt that he didn’t know how to handle. He had to face the fact that he couldn’t do it alone. He didn’t have to do it alone.
He didn’t want to be this way anymore, which meant he had to do something about it. He’d made his decision to stop hiding from his packmates. In this, he had to stop hiding as well.
But first, the long-overdue, difficult conversation with his cousins. About where he’d been all these years, and where he planned to stay now. What he wanted to do, and what messages he intended them to convey to the rest of his packmates, both sentimental and otherwise.
He glanced over his shoulder again, then picked up his jeans from the ground and returned his gaze to his cousins. “If you’ll wait here, I’ll be back with a mountain of sandwiches. We have much to catch up on.”
*
They took Liam’s truck to Bloodhaven, since Naley’s list of things she’d like to pack and move over had grown exponentially once she found out Liam was coming along.
Isobel scrutinized the shadows as they drove through the woods. Naley, who sat in the middle, was too busy adding to her list on her phone, but Liam noticed.
“They’re gone,” he said quietly.
“You sure they won’t try to ‘convince’ you again?” She’d watched the men earlier via her office monitors, just in case they tried to overpower Liam. She needn’t have worried. Her wolf fought faster and deadlier than even she had expected, and she’d seen his file.
Liam shrugged. “We talked. We exchanged numbers. Connell still holds out hope that I’ll change my mind, but they both know where I stand. I’ve made my farewells.”
Naley glanced up, finally catching on to their conversation. “Are you talking about your packmates?” A crease bisected her brows.
Liam took his hand off the wheel and tugged on one of her curls. “We came to an understanding. They apologized for frightening you and are returning to their home. You don’t have to worry about them anymore.”
Isobel doubted the two men had spared one thought for Naley, but she said nothing. Naley cast an apprehensive look at Isobel, checking for her aunt’s reaction to see if she should believe Liam. She relaxed when Isobel smiled and put an arm around her shoulder.
Isobel’s phone buzzed in her pocket. The text message was from a fellow agent asking her to call him back. Since he couldn’t be calling to consult on a mission—Isobel being on leave and all—there was only one reason she could think of for him to be calling her. He’d been on her list, after all.
Isobel frowned, but it shouldn’t have surprised her. She’d welcomed—and extended—such invitations in the past. That sort of empty engagement, one that would’ve satisfied her before, no longer held any sort of appeal.
She silenced her phone. She’d return the call once she was alone. She’d make it clear to her fellow agent—and ensure that word got around to the others—that all such invitations would be unwelcome from now on. She was a one-man woman now. A one-wolf woman.
She snuggled a kiss onto the top of Naley’s hair and smiled.
Naley glanced at Liam. “Will you come with Aunt Iz to my soccer match next week? You could help scare the other team.”
“Cub,” Isobel chastised.
Liam kept his eyes on the road, unruffled. “I could even scare Jeremy.”
Isobel frowned. “Who’s Jeremy?”
“Liam!” Naley glared. “Just a friend, Aunt Iz.”
Isobel’s eyes narrowed. “What’s his last name?”
“Liam’s overreacting.”
“What’s his last name?”
Naley sighed in resignation. “I’ll pull his stats up for you when we get home.”
“Thank you.”
Naley elbowed Liam in the ribs, only slightly mollified by his exaggerated grunt. Liam met Isobel’s gaze over the top of Naley’s head and winked. She grinned.
Maybe this little makeshift family of theirs would turn out well after all.
They dropped Isobel off at Bloodhaven General so that she could visit Jamal while Liam and Naley got a head start on packing. “I don’t know how long I’ll be,” she told Liam, pausing to lean over his driver’s side window. “Depending on how receptive Jamal is, it could take fifteen minutes, could be an hour. I’ll head over to you once I’m done.” Kaya’s apartment was only twelve blocks away.
He nodded. “Call me if you’ll be more than twenty minutes, or if you want me to pick you up instead.”
Isobel had never had to account for her comings and goings before. To her surprise, she found she didn’t mind it so much. It didn’t feel as restrictive as she would’ve thought; it simply felt like a small, welcome reminder that there were others in her life who couldn’t wait until the next time they saw her.
Naley made loud kissing noises. Without looking her way, Liam put his hand on top of the girl’s head and turned it to face the other way. Isobel grinned and brushed her lips over Liam’s.
She was watching the truck drive off when her phone buzzed. Isobel glanced down at the screen. This time it was Malcolm who had left her a voicemail.
“Don’t tell me he wants a round too,” she muttered, taking her phone off silent mode. She headed inside the building, deciding to look in on Rex while she was here. Hopefully he’d be awake this time. She wanted to talk to him, if only to reassure herself that he was on the mend.
She walked into Rex’s private room and halted in her tracks. It was empty.
The bed was clean, the sheets crisply tucked in. The room was devoid of machines and flowers, ready to welcome a new patient without a backward glance at the old.
For the briefest of moments, Isobel’s heart rate sped up. Surely nothing had happened to Rex in the past twenty-four hour
s. His injuries hadn’t been that dire.
She went out to the reception area. “Where’s the patient in 32B?”
The nurse checked her computer screen. “He’s been moved. Are you family?”
Isobel relaxed. “A friend. Where was he moved?”
“I’m afraid I couldn’t say, ma’am.”
“Why not?”
“That information’s for authorized persons only, ma’am.”
“I am authorized… .” Isobel stopped in the middle of reaching for her missing badge. She had no such authority, at least not until she was back at work. Neither could she fault the nurse for looking out for the safety of a Council agent.
“Fine. Thanks for your time.” Isobel walked toward the elevators. She’d have to call someone at the Council to find out where Rex had been moved to, and why.
Jamal’s room was empty as well.
This time her heart stopped. Isobel backed away, bumping into a nurse in the corridor who was carrying a pile of folded blankets. She grabbed his arm and pointed at the deserted room. “Where’s the patient who was here yesterday? Jamal Mousenn?”
The nurse staggered back from Isobel’s fierce snarl, the blankets escaping his grasp.
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know!”
Isobel dropped his arm and whirled around, racing for the reception desk.
“I’m sorry, I can’t give you that information,” was the only answer she received.
“Can’t, or won’t?” Isobel demanded.
“Ma’am, do I need to contact security?”
“You can contact whoever you damn like. I want answers.” She slapped her palm on the counter surface.
The nurse behind the counter spoke into her phone receiver, casting wary looks at Isobel. Isobel brought her own phone up, about to call one of her active-duty colleagues, when she saw the reminder notification of Malcolm’s message.
She cursed. Was this what Malcolm had contacted her about? What the hell was going on? She hit Malcolm’s name onscreen to return the call, too impatient to listen to her voicemail. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a security guard arriving, accompanied by an agent she recognized. The latter looked startled to see her.
