by Unknown
The night had dragged after the adrenaline of fighting the fire. He and Darrell dug Jake’s grave while Pallas set Clare on damage assessment and control.
Blain apparently had a bloodhound’s nose and tracked three distinct human scents by the porch. He couldn’t identify them, but he had the capacity to store that information for future reference. All shifters had a good sense of smell, but against popular belief, not all of them had Blain’s gifts.
Tossing his shovel aside, Darrell sat down hard on the ground next to Penny who knelt by Jake’s grave weaving wild flowers into a wreath. She’d been quiet, even for her. They’d chosen a spot on the edge of the woods for Jake’s burial site, where the sun would shine during the day and the sky would be filled with stars at night.
Ian stretched a cramp in his lower back and spotted Clare striding across the lawn, leading Blain. He gave her a solemn nod, at a loss for words. He hadn’t known Jake well. Heck, none of them had, but as the strongest wolf in their room, the meek male had been Ian’s responsibility. He’d failed Jake. Burying someone his age seemed a crime of nature.
Clare stopped about ten feet from the grave. Dark circles surrounded her fierce green eyes. She’d pulled her golden brown hair into a ponytail but a few strands had escaped and hung around her rounded face.
Blain sank to the ground by Penny and Darrell. He rested his hand on the omega’s shoulder.
Penny glanced at Clare. “He’s an orphan. I mean, he w—was an orphan.” She hung her head, but Ian could see the tears dripping onto her lap. “His pack won’t care if he’s dead.”
Ian met Clare’s fierce glare over the grave. She gave him a curt nod as if confirming Penny’s assessment. Ian’s alpha might have dropped him off here against his will, but he thought the bastard would care enough if he died to come collect his body.
“How is the manor fairing?” The last he’d seen Pallas, the vampire had been taking measurements of the porch frame.
“It’s mostly superficial. Pallas thinks we can fix the damage on our own.” She paced, back forth in front of the group, like a caged animal, except their cage was an open field. “I can’t believe they don’t care.” Her voice carried clearly over the grounds.
Ian glanced at the empty porch and lawn. All the other shifters had gone to bed for the day after a night filled with cleaning and repairs. He and the others weren’t the only ones exhausted, but their weariness was compounded by grief—and guilt.
Clare’s gait grew more aggressive. She fisted and relaxed her hands. “Pack is family. There’s no such thing as an orphan for shifters.” A growl rumbled in her chest.
Penny folded in upon herself, eyes downcast. The other two males kept their gazes pinned to Clare as if preparing to defend themselves or the omega.
“We should have done a head count as soon as exiting the manor.” Clare raked her hands over her hair and Ian glimpsed the tips of claws poking from her fingertips. “It’s my fault he’s dead.”
Ian dropped the shovel and grasped Clare by the shoulders, giving her a hard shake. “Snap out of it.” Her wolf was so close to the surface, he could see the animal staring back at him. “We didn’t set the fire. We’re all strangers here and never worked together.” He pulled her into a tight hug before she could resist. “I’m amazed we didn’t lose more.”
Clare trembled. She hugged him back, fisting his shirt in her hands. Her breathing became erratic and labored. In times of emotional distress, their wolves wanted to lash out. Most of the time, shifters could control that urge…
Ian buried his face in her neck and inhaled her intoxicating scent. She was so strong for such little thing and she could really do some damage to the others if she lost control. The group needed someone like Clare—a compass, a leader. If she hurt anyone in this state, she’d never recover. Taking one last deep breath, he bared his teeth and bit the exposed skin hard where her neck met her shoulder.
Her furious cry almost burst his eardrum. She shoved him. The golden amber of her wolf’s eyes stared back at him. Teeth bared in a snarl, she jumped him, knocking him on his back.
Blain and Darrell both surged to their feet, racing to Ian’s aid, but he held up his hands to stop them. Clare needed to blow off her pain and he could take damage. That was one thing his alpha had taught him well.
Thighs astride his chest, she curled her clawed fingers into fists and punched. Incomprehensible words fell from her lips in growls and snarls. The hits grew more intense. Her hair fell loose from the tie. She swiped her hand across his face.
He hissed at the sharp sting of claws and pressed his hand to the fresh wound. Blood seeped between his fingers.
Clare rocked back, stunned. She swept her hair clear of her face and gave him a slow blink. She reached to touch his cheek but when her gaze fell upon her clawed hand, she jerked it away. Her eyes narrowed. “You bit me.”
“You needed it.” He sat up, catching her in his arms as she rolled off his chest. The scratches tingled as the healing process started. He ran his thumb possessively over the teeth mark on her skin.
A whimper caught both of their attention.
Penny lay on her stomach while Darrell tried to comfort her. He glared at them with a look at what you did expression.
Blain stood guard between the couples, arms folded, scowling at Clare and Ian. “Are you done?”
Clare climbed to her feet and offered Ian a hand. They stood side by side. A blush coated her cheeks. “Sorry. I’m not very good at grieving.” She hurried to Penny’s side and rubbed her back.
The smaller female rose to her knees and hugged Clare. “Don’t fight.”
“We’re not fighting.” Ian crouched next to them. “We’re just having a discussion with claws.” He grinned as Penny gave him a mock swipe. He gestured for Blain and Darrell to get closer. “Jake was the first casualty of this training camp.” Ian had almost been the first. Just dumb luck he’d survived his encounter with the human hunters. “I don’t think he’ll be last.” He held out his hand. “A pact, to watch each other’s backs so no one gets left behind again.”
Penny rested her hand on his with hesitation.
Darrell and Blain exchanged a look before adding theirs.
Clare looked from one to other. “We shouldn’t exclude the others.”
“We’re not.” Ian met her remorseful stare. “But we need to start somewhere and I think it’s appropriate it begins here.” He pointedly looked at Jake’s fresh grave.
She gave him a curt nod, understanding his meaning. No one else dies. She set her hand on theirs. “A pact.”
Chapter Seven
Pain still ebbed into Ian’s muscles upon each step but he managed to enter the kitchen without a limp. Shifters could smell weakness a mile away and like any other predator, would use it against him. Bad enough he’d entered the manor gravely wounded two nights ago. The last few days of abuse left him in different states of healing. If he had some decent protein, he’d be healed by now, but no one had thought about saving any of the fire to use for cooking.
Last night—day, yesterday? Ugh, sleeping during the day and being up all night was throwing him off. He hadn’t slept well. Jake’s empty cot, across the room from his, kept reminding him of his failures. Even with his back turned, he could sense the emptiness. Jake hadn’t said much, but his presence was missed.
He breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of Penny, Darrell, and Blain at the table. They’d all gone to bed late in the morning and now the sun had already set. No one else was eating breakfast. They were probably getting ready for their first day of ‘training’. God only knew what the vampire had planned for them. Ian nodded to others and sat at the table.
Blain pushed an empty bowl across the table. “Eat. I heard we’ll need the energy.” A thin opaque layer covered his pale silver eyes. Chills ran over Ian’s skin whenever their gazes met. Shifters tended to cull the weak from their pack, leaving them to die, yet here sat Blain the Almost Blind. How had he managed to survive a
ll this time? He asked others to guide him through the manor, but Ian had noted yesterday that the wolf managed to toss his bucket of water on the flame. Coincidence? Possibly. Blain held up a box of sugary cereal. “Breakfast of champions.”
Ian’s stomach rolled. “At dinner time.” He filled his bowl all the while wishing for eggs and bacon. If he didn’t get a feast-sized meal soon a strong wind would carry him away.
“You’ll get used to the flipped schedule.” Penny still wouldn’t lift her head to meet his gaze. What kind of pack would send a submissive to a boot camp?
The sweet scent of his prickly Clare drifted into the kitchen a moment before she did.
Darrell was hot on her heels. “The chore roster is on the fridge. Newbies get dish duty for the first week.” He addressed Ian.
Ian ground his cereal between his teeth. “I didn’t get the impression that anyone had been here that much longer than me.” Why had Darrell accompanied Clare from the second floor? He hadn’t been in his bunk when Ian woke. What had they been doing? Penny had been in the kitchen when Ian had arrived and she was Clare’s only roommate.
Darrell smirked. “We haven’t, but you’re the last to arrive so seems fair.” He set a NOLA Saints cap on his head and tipped it before leaving the kitchen.
Penny stared at them wide eyed as if expecting Ian to lash out. Blain was near to choking on his meal, trying not to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Clare asked Blain.
He shook his head and cleared his space at the table. “Let’s go, Penny. We don’t want to be late.” They both set their bowls in the full sink and exited the kitchen.
A growl rumbled in Ian’s chest. Clare was unmated. She wore no other’s scent and if he couldn’t have her no one else would be allowed to sniff around her tail, especially not a dog like Darrell. A strong female like Clare needed a keeper, someone who would protect her from herself.
“Stop that.” She tapped his nose as if he were a pup.
He jumped. Shooting a glance at the door, he breathed a sigh of relief. The others hadn’t seen. “Don’t strike me again. I let you blow some steam off yesterday so you wouldn’t hurt the others when you lost control. We’re not making that a habit.”
“If you act like an ass, I’ll treat you like an ass.”
Leaning across the table to where she sat, he invaded her space until their noses almost touched. “Then next time you’re feeling brave enough, strike me on the ass—I dare you—so we can both enjoy it.” He snapped his teeth in play.
She blushed.
Before she could find her composure, he gathered any remaining dirty dishes and cups, placing them in the sink. He filled it with ice cold water and dish soap. Pallas needed to overcome his tech phobia.
He watched the sink fill. Was he really going to give this place a try? Pallas had could train him how to fight properly. He’d had his ass handed to him by a few middle-aged humans. A shifter needed to know how to fight if he wanted to survive. His gaze moved to the window and the dark forest. If he ran again would Pallas hunt him down? Instinct said yes.
Shifters like him only got in the way, Clare had said. He glanced over his shoulder. The bowl of cereal had her full attention. He’d show her exactly what kind of shifter lay hidden inside. There were no more reasons for Ian to suppress his wolf’s urges. His alpha wasn’t here to knock him down at every turn, and if one of the others tried he didn’t fear pushing back. Ian had learned it was better to pick the fights than to allow the fights to pick him. He didn’t win most of them, but at least he’d gotten a few assholes to back down.
It hadn’t occurred to Ian to start over in another pack. This ragtag group of shifters were far from being a pack though. He’d need an alpha female. Packs functioned better with a mated couple. He glanced at Clare again and caught her staring at his ass.
Her gaze darted to meet his. “What?”
“Nothing.” He winked. Cold water splashed on his feet. The sink was overflowing. He jerked the taps shut and ignored Clare’s laugh. If dish duty was his chore then he’d make these fucking cereal-caked bowls gleam. Anyone stuck with this chore afterwards would wonder how he managed without hot water. He lifted the first bowl and picked at the cement-like substance. Maybe he could borrow a blow torch from Pallas?
Clare didn’t taste the cereal she chewed. Another cold meal, but none of it registered. Scoop and shovel, scoop and shovel.
The hair on her arms tingled after Ian’s smoldering look and wink. The only thing that saved her from making a fool of herself was the sink overflowing. She bit her lip and held back another laugh.
He washed the dishes as if doing battle with the scrub brush. To her surprise, he hadn’t grumbled once. When she created the duty roster, she thought for sure he’d pitch a fit. This didn’t seem like the same shifter who had arrived three days ago and run away at first chance. What had happened in those woods with Pallas? Had the vampire given him those wounds? Maybe Ian had bit him and that’s why he smelled like vampire blood.
She rubbed her thumb over the callus forming on her index finger. She’d spent part of the afternoon, while everyone slept, rubbing two sticks together. Making fire sounded easy, but damn, they hadn’t managed to create a spark. No wonder it had taken cavemen thousands of years to discover how. Without a step-by-step instructional video from YouTube, they’d be eating cereal and sandwiches three times a day until they grew desperate enough to eat the meat raw. They were good cuts too. Pallas spared no expense. Then the cold-blooded bastard refused to let them use a lighter. She’d give the fire another try tonight.
“Are you done?” Ian’s deep voice whispered by her ear, sending a shiver along her spine.
She glared at her empty bowl. “Guess so.” She handed him the dish and his icy fingers brushed over hers. She’d almost forgotten they had no hot water. Yanking her hand free of the bowl, she watched Ian juggle to catch it before it shattered against the floor. She left him in the kitchen with a puzzled expression on his face.
In the gym, she found the other shifters gathered shoulder to shoulder. Darrell leaned against the far corner, observing everyone in silence. He seemed like a good shifter to watch her back. Penny sat by the door next to the armory. She couldn’t spot Blain in the crowd.
Clare plopped onto the bench next to Penny. “What’s going on?” By now, they were usually assigned to work on different projects.
“Pallas wants to speak to us.” Penny tugged on her long braid. The plait hung over her shoulder and she gripped in with both hands. “I’m not afraid of Ian.”
“Okay.” Clare gave her a side glance. What the random heck?
“I mean, for a dominant wolf, he doesn’t frighten me like most of the others. He doesn’t smell like he’d hurt me.”
Giving the room a slow search, Clare examined the males. “They frighten you?” She could crush most of them, but then again, she wasn’t a submissive like Penny and had been raised with seven older brothers. Of all the people living in the manor, she understood Penny the least. “And you find being around Ian more comfortable?”
Penny nodded. “He makes me feel safe.”
Searing hot rage boiled up from Clare’s gut so fast she couldn’t remember how to breathe. If Ian belonged to either of them, it was her. How dare Penny even look at him, let alone think such thoughts. The sandwich the omega had made him should have clued Clare into Penny’s attraction to Ian. Shifters didn’t take food for granted and making a meal could have a double meaning. Ian had accepted the food. Maybe he felt the same way about Penny?
The omega slid off her chair to her knees.
Clare glanced at the others, not sure why Penny suddenly smelled of fear.
The pretty female laid her head on Clare’s lap. “I didn’t realize you’d claimed him. Forgive me.”
Clare’s eyebrows rose so high her head ached. The others in the room went quiet. “Penny, stop making a scene.” Her cheeks burned. “Stop being silly.” She hadn’t claimed anyone, no matter w
hat her wolf thought, and didn’t plan on taking Ian as a mate. She took a deep calming breath.
The submissive wolf tentatively lifted her chin. “But I smelled—”
“Nothing, you smelled nothing.” Damn, her wolf. Her animal side was very bossy when it came to Ian. She pushed to her feet and crossed to Darrell, who stared over her head at something. She twisted. Not something, someone.
Pallas stood in the doorway next to Penny. “We start training tonight.” He scanned the room as if counting heads. “Where the fuck is Ian?”
Chapter Eight
Ian heard Pallas roar his name. He fumbled the bowl he was scrubbing and it shattered on the floor. Now what did he do? He plucked the broken shards off the floor and tossed them in the trash before responding to the bloodsucker.
He discovered everyone gathered in the workout room. “Present.” He shouted. The hair on the nape of his neck rose. Everyone smelled sour with unease. It set Ian on edge. He took the closest empty seat next to Penny.
She sprung to her feet as if tossed by a catapult. She kept her gaze glued to the floor as she wove her way across the room by Clare.
Ian leaned against the wall, ankles crossed, and gave Clare a questioning look. What had she been up to? Obviously it had something to do with him otherwise she wouldn’t appear so satisfied. This had promise. Let the mating games begin.
Clare’s expression faded. She gave him her back and turned her attention to Pallas.
The vampire nodded to Ian. “Nice of you to join us. Now give me fifty.”
“Fifty what?”
Pallas’ black gaze narrowed. “Push-ups, smartass, for being late.”
Ian rose slowly, hands in the air. “Easy man, I was doing my assigned chores.”
The room plummeted in temperature so fast Ian could see his own breath. He dropped to the floor and started counting off his push-ups. “One, two, three…”
Pallas took a military stance—legs braced open, arms relaxed behind his back—at Ian’s head. “This program will take seven weeks to complete. You are my first group of students from this age. I imagine there is a lot we can learn from each other.”
