by Zena Wynn
The ferocious frown on Shay’s face showed she took exception to his words. He hurried on before she could interrupt. “What I mean is because of our healing abilities, we don’t suffer the normal defects and diseases humans are used to dealing with. So when one of us is born…” he hesitated, then continued, “different, we don’t know how to react.”
“By different you mean flawed.”
He winced. “Yeah.”
“That’s asinine,” she said, angry sparks in her eyes.
He shrugged. “Are humans really so different, Shay? How many humans avert their gaze when they see a less than perfect specimen of the species? Some even go out of their way to avoid the disabled as though the disability were somehow contagious.”
“You’re right,” she admitted, then sighed. “Well, at least Kian and I have something in common.”
He arched a brow. “And what might that be?”
“Neither one of us is crazy about your pack,” she said before heading upstairs to dress.
Chapter Twelve
An hour later Rory and Shay stood at the entrance to the basement level. The door had four deadbolt locks and appeared to be made of steel. Shay knocked on it to be sure. Definitely metal.
Amazed, she asked, “Are you trying to lock him in or keep others out?”
“Keeping others out. Kian’s free to come and go as he pleases.”
“How? I’ve been here a week and never seen this door opened,” she muttered at his back.
“There’s an exit at the rear of the house. Stay close,” Rory called over his shoulder as he turned the key in the last lock, pulled open the door, and started down the dark stairwell.
Shay was right on his heels, curiosity driving her.
At the bottom of the steps was another door with even more locks, reminding Shayla of Shannon’s basement room. “What is it with you people and basements locked up tighter than Fort Knox?”
He tossed a glance over his shoulder. “After what happened during the blue moon, you need to ask?”
Okay, so it was a stupid question.
“Each pack maintains a minimum of one secure room for shifters out of control. It’s to protect them and to protect the pack. The Sparrowhawk pack has two,” Rory explained.
“And this is one of them,” Shayla concluded.
“No, this is Kian’s room. When we get inside, stay by the door until I tell you it’s okay to come forward,” Rory said as he opened the door and walked inside.
As Shay entered behind him, something in the shadows moved. The biggest black wolf she’d ever seen in her life emerged out of the shadows and into a beam of sunlight. Her breath caught, and she edged closer to Rory, forgetting his earlier instructions. He reached back a hand and nudged her gently until she stood partially behind him.
“Kian, I want you to meet my mate, Shayla. Shay, this is my brother, Kian.”
Kian came forward, and Shayla stared into eyes so pale a blue they were almost translucent. There was feral intelligence in his gaze. On all fours, his head nearly reached her shoulder, and even his shiny, thick pelt couldn’t disguise that his body was a lithe mass of muscle. Her fingers clinched on Rory’s waist, nails digging into his side.
“Hold out your hand,” Rory instructed.
Shay glanced at him sharply. Hold out her hand? What, like she was meeting the family pet? Troubled, she reluctantly did as instructed.
Kian’s nostrils flared as he took in her scent, and he came even closer, his massive head lowering until his snout was even with her belly. Then he swung his gaze to Rory’s.
“That’s right,” Rory stated as though he were answering a question. “Shay’s pregnant with my cub.”
The wolf, Kian, looked at her again; then his gaze met Rory’s and something seemed to pass between them. In the sunlight Shay could see Kian’s belly and fur vibrate, but no sound emerged. It took all Shay had not to run when he came nearer and rubbed his body against hers, marking her with his scent. Dang, he was huge. Bigger even than Rory in wolf form.
Did this mean she was accepted? If so, why hadn’t he shifted and greeted her properly?
Kian nudged her hand with his snout. After a brief glance at Rory to check his reaction, she reached out a hesitant hand and rubbed him behind his ears like she would any dog. He tolerated her touch for a few, brief moments, then disappeared around the corner into the shadows. Very anticlimactic. Not what she’d expected at all.
Now that Kian was gone, she took a longer, more thorough look at her surroundings. What she saw—or rather didn’t see—pissed her off. She’d believed, since Kian resided here, that the setup would be like a small apartment efficiency. It wasn’t. There was no couch, no television or stereo, no dressers or bed. Just a measly, bare mattress thrown on the floor in the corner. And unless they were hidden around that corner, there were no kitchen appliances. She couldn’t even hear the hum of a refrigerator.
“Your brother lives like an animal,” she snarled at Rory before spinning on her heel and charging up the stairs.
“Shay…”
“I can’t believe you make him live like that. I thought—no, hoped—you were better than this.” In the living room she spun to face him, hands on her hips. “If, God forbid, our child comes out flawed”—she spat the word—“is this how you’ll treat her?”
“Shay, you can’t believe I’d want my own brother living like that.”
She formed a V with her fingers and pointed them at her eyes. “Tell it to the eyes. I know what I saw.” Shay was beyond angry, beyond horrified. She was sick. She turned her back, unable to stand the sight of him.
Between one breath and the next, he was on her. Shay let out a squeal of fear as Rory snatched her off her feet and into his arms. As he stormed up the stairs, Shay pushed at his chest and wheezed out, “Put me down.”
“When I’m ready.” He stalked down the hallway and stopped before a closed door. A quick twist of the knob, then he pushed the door open so hard it rebounded off the wall. Rory set her down, none too gently, and went to the closet, flinging open the double doors. Inside were rows of men’s clothing—shirts, pants, suits, belts, and hats. He crossed to the dresser and began opening drawers, leaving them open. More clothes.
Confused, Shay glanced around the room. Done in shades of blue, it was a man’s room. No doubt about it. The walls and dressers were stark, lacking any personal decorations such as pictures, awards, and the like. The furniture and its surfaces were pristine, but that didn’t negate the empty, unused feel of the place.
“Kian’s room. The one he refuses—has always refused—to use.”
Rory stood, hands on hips, breathing hard. “The locks you objected to? They’re not to lock Kian in. They’re to lock us out.”
Shay tore her gaze away from him to take another look at the room. “I’m sorry,” she said finally, hoping he’d see the regret in her eyes. “I know what it’s like to be different, to be shunned because of those differences. I projected. I should have known—”
“Aye, you should have,” he snapped. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them, he was much calmer. “I’m wrong as well. It bothers me, because at one time he was treated as no better than an animal—by my father. And the pack followed his lead.
“I did my best to change his status. To change the status of all of those who were thought of as lesser, as lacking, within the pack. Kian refused. He prefers his wolf, and I can’t—won’t—force him to change, to be what he doesn’t want to be.”
“What happened to Kian?” she asked. “Why is he mute? Some type of childhood trauma?” When he simply stared at her, Shay said, “I know you said he was born this way, but did anyone ever say why? Being born mute is a rarity, even among humans. If he was deaf, I could understand it better. But he’s not.” Though she voiced the last as a statement, her eyes questioned him.
“No, he’s not deaf,” Rory confirmed.
“So what happened? What did the doctors say?�
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Rory sighed and went and sat on the bed, motioning for Shay to join him. “Shifters come in four basic classifications, with varying levels within. Rogues, at the bottom, have no control over their beast. They are ruled by instinct, barely one step above our animal counterpart. Omegas have more control, but their beast still tends to dominate their human nature. Betas have complete control over their beast and know how to work with it. Alphas can not only control their beasts but are able to tap into and use the power of their beast when necessary, without giving control over to it. And then there’s me. As pack alpha not only can I draw on the power of my beast—the two of us working together in harmony—but when necessary, I can pull power from the pack as well.”
“Sort of an alpha’s alpha,” Shay commented.
“Aye, though we don’t really have a name for it. Remember what I was saying about shifter females earlier?”
“About that ‘survival instinct’?” she asked, making air quotes. “It’s not limited to shifters. Human females tend to be drawn to alpha males as well.”
“In shifters it works both ways. The higher ranked the male, the stronger the female he’ll want, just like in the wild. Strong pairings produce strong offspring. It’s when you start mixing ranks that things get a little iffy.”
“Like your parents,” Shay stated, wondering what he was getting at.
“Yes. When an alpha and an omega mate, there’s no predicting the classification their offspring will fall into. That’s why to ensure succession, pack alphas will only mate with the strongest female of the pack—normally.”
He ran a hand through his vibrant red hair, a sure sign of his agitation. “Da lucked out with me. I turned out to be an alpha like him, although he really had no way of knowing for sure until I went through my first change at puberty.”
“Your personality didn’t give him a clue?”
“It gave an indication of the type of man I’d be, but there’s no way to tell about the wolf until it emerges.”
“So your wolf’s an alpha, and Shannon’s wolf is an alpha. What about Kian?”
“Kian’s wolf is as strong as, possibly even stronger than mine, since he spends so much time in wolf form. But something went wrong with his human side.”
Shay pondered this for a moment, letting the silence settle. “So let me see if I understand correctly. Kian’s mute because your dad’s an alpha but your mom’s an omega, and her wolf being weak somehow caused Kian to come out with a human disability.”
“Yes.”
“Bullshit.”
He blinked, his mouth sagging open the tiniest bit.
“Complete and utter bullshit. Genetics don’t work that way.”
“Maybe in humans but in wolves—”
“First of all,” she cut in, “you’re not wolves. You’re shifters. That means you’re human with a little something extra, and I beg to differ with you, but genetics work exactly the same way whether we’re talking humans or animals. I don’t know what caused Kian to be mute, but it damn sure skippy isn’t because your momma was an omega.”
Rory shook his head and opened his mouth, but Shay cut him off. “Don’t you dare tell me I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about. I know. I’ve run the tests. My mother’s an expert, remember? You think I wouldn’t have checked this shit out as soon as Kiesha told me what she was mated to, whose child she was carrying?
“If this is the kind of bullshit your parents were spouting, I’m guessing no one ever bothered to take Kian to a doctor, have him checked out. See if his problem could be fixed.” She gazed off, staring blindly at the mirror on the dresser. “Of course you didn’t. You probably don’t even go to doctors. If you can’t shift and heal it or Laurie Bell can’t treat it, you’re stuck with it.”
She turned her attention back to Rory to find him sitting there, dumbfounded. “When Alex returns from his honeymoon, you take Kian to see him. Get his throat checked out. I understand not wanting to expose your secret, but there are treatments, surgeries, things that can be done to give Kian his speech.”
“What if they don’t work?”
Shay shrugged. “At least you’ll have tried.”
When he still appeared troubled, she added, “I’d have to research the affliction, but from my understanding, muteness comes in two different forms. Either there was trauma to Kian’s vocal cords during birth that caused them to become damaged, or the portion of his brain that develops speech didn’t receive enough oxygen while in the womb. Did something happen when he was born? Did your mom suffer some type of mishap?”
“I don’t know,” Rory said with a shrug. “I don’t believe so.”
“You weren’t there when he was born?”
A strange glint entered his eyes. “Kian’s older than I. Ten minutes older.”
“Ten—” She stared. “Twins? You’re twins?”
“Aye.”
Shay brought a trembling hand to her forehead and leaned against it. The shocks were coming too fast, too hard for her mind to process. “I need a nap. My brain’s fuzzy.”
“We’ll both take one.”
As he rose and extended a hand, she gazed up at him suspiciously. “Why are you taking a nap? You don’t look sleepy to me.”
He smiled, slow and sexy. Shay felt moisture pool between her legs. “Never said I was. We’ll sleep…after.” He tugged her to her feet and into his arms, his erection a hard pole against her belly.
“Yes, after,” she agreed.
* * * *
That night after work, Caleb and MacDougal came to the house in response to Rory’s call.
Shay sat on Rory’s lap behind a mammoth desk in an utterly masculine office domain Rory stated used to belong to his father. The chair was roomy and wide, completely made of leather, and positively screamed I’m in charge. The dark cherry wood of the desk gleamed in the lamplight.
Opposite it sat Caleb and MacDougal, in two not nearly as imposing office chairs facing the desk. Caleb’s pose was relaxed, with both hands resting on the arms of the chair. His dark, long, well-maintained dreads were pulled back from his face in a low ponytail. MacDougal had one foot resting on the opposing knee and settled into his chair with what Shay considered an insolent smirk. She didn’t like the way he kept checking her body out, ogling as though he were visualizing her naked.
Shay observed him through narrowed eyes, making no attempt to mask her dislike.
MacDougal wagged his eyebrows at her. “Like what you see?”
“No.”
He grinned at her abrupt answer, obviously not taking her seriously.
Rory didn’t keep them waiting. “For security reasons my mate has requested that access to the house be denied.”
“Being led by your bitch?” MacDougal asked with a sneer.
Rory’s body stilled and seemed to swell. Shay felt the heat of him increase against the skin of her back and thighs where she connected with him. “You will refer to my mate with respect, or I’ll rip your tongue out of your mouth and force-feed it to you,” Rory said, his wolf in his voice.
MacDougal lost his stupid grin. Though he didn’t respond verbally, Shay could see a hint of contained anger in the lines around his eyes.
“Of course.” Caleb spoke into the silence. “The security of the alpha pair, especially when they are breeding, is of utmost importance. How can we assist?”
The claws digging into Shay’s thigh retracted as Rory relaxed. “Spread the word that from now on, anyone wishing to meet with me”—Shay cleared her throat, a pointed reminder of her presence—“with us will need to call first. The doors will be kept locked, even when I’m in residence, so they’ll need to knock and be granted entrance—”
“And the locks will be changed,” Shay added, looking up at Rory as she added her decree.
He frowned down at her. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Who all has a key to the house?”
Rory paused, then glanced at Cal
eb in question. Caleb didn’t seem to know either. He shrugged. “When Rory became alpha, he instituted the open-door policy. No one has needed keys because the door is always unlocked.”
“How old are these locks?” she asked.
Rory’s brow furrowed as he thought. “They’ve been here since I was a child, at minimum. I don’t remember them ever being changed. They were sturdy enough when I did the last remodel to leave as is.”
“Then you really have no idea who could be walking around with spares. You’re going back to work soon. I don’t want just anyone walking in, catching me unawares,” she told Rory.
“Scared of the wolves, little human?” MacDougal asked.
Shay shifted until her gaze met his, then stared until MacDougal lowered his gaze, silently acknowledging her dominance. She stared for another moment, letting him feel the weight of it, before turning back to her mate. Rory didn’t comment on the byplay between her and MacDougal, but she could feel his pride in her, and his anger at MacDougal.
“She’s right,” Caleb said.
Shay tossed him a smile of thanks.
Rory sighed. “I’ll change the locks. As second and third, you two will have a spare for emergencies—”
“No!” Shayla declared forcefully.
All eyes turned on her. “Caleb, yes. He’s your second, and I know he’d sacrifice his life for yours. MacDougal, no. I don’t like him, and if a knife ever sprouted from your back, I wouldn’t be surprised to find him holding the handle.”
MacDougal made sounds of protest. “I would never do anything so underhanded, so vile.”
Shay glared at him, her dislike tangible. “You’re rude, disrespectful, egotistical, and most of all, a sore loser. So you fought for and lost the position of alpha. Get over it or get out. The pack doesn’t need your poison.”
MacDougal’s eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open. There was a choked sound from Caleb. When she glanced at him, his face was blank but his eyes danced merrily. Rory stroked an approving hand down her spine.
“Who else besides the three of us, and Shannon, needs a key?” Shay asked, turning once more to Rory.
