Naomi laughed. "Yes, well. I've not been with a human in sometime either, so don't worry about that." Eight months was a very long time in her books.
"Naomi, you are free to choose what you will." Earnest, he stepped forward once more and took her hand. "But Stark won't stop hunting you. He knows how dangerous Illixy is to him. You will never be safe in Fort Brixton again, maybe not even the North East. If you wish it, I can help you leave."
Leave Fort Brixton? She'd dedicated her life to making it here. To clawing her way up the ladder, to proving herself, to establishing a community, friends, the cutest apartment you'd ever seen, everything. But more than that - she couldn't leave this enigmatic, intoxicating, utterly delicious and arousing man behind, not like that, not so easily.
"But if you stay." Dylan took her other hand in his. "If you choose to be my mate. If you bring Illixy to the Silver Song pack, then I will fight with every ounce of my strength to destroy Stark, to push back the evil that is drowning our city, and give you everything an alpha's mate deserves."
Naomi couldn't think. She was drowning in his golden eyes. She wanted to kiss those lips. Be his mate. Dylan leaned down, and their lips touched. Naomi's knees went weak. One arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her to him, the fingers of his other hand were in her hair. His kiss shook her to her core, weakened any resolve she might have mustered. She wanted to pull him to the bed. She wanted to tear off his jacket, unbuckle those jeans, reveal the hard cock she could feel pressed against her, feel her naked skin against his -
The door slammed open. Dylan tore himself away from her with an inhuman growl, and for a brief moment she saw fur thicken along the edge of his jaw and talons begin to grow from the tips of his fingers. The girl from the kitchen stood there, eyes wide with alarm.
"Dylan. Stark's leading a band of dark spirits and Fallen into the woods."
Like that, the fur and talons were gone. She could sense his frustration mount, peak, and then be ruthlessly suppressed by his will. "Fine. Gather the pack. Have them meet me outside."
The girl nodded and disappeared, leaving the door open. Dylan turned back to Naomi. "I have to go. Stark's never been bold enough to come into the woods. He has to be stopped. You need to rest. I - we'll talk. Tomorrow."
Naomi nodded breathlessly. "Yes. Tomorrow."
"Good." He hesitated, clearly wanting to say more, but then he grinned, leaned forward and kissed her full on the lips, turned and was gone out the door.
Naomi listened as he took the steps four at a time, then the slam of the front door, and all was still. There were voices briefly from outside, then a howl rose to the moon, a mournful cry that was quickly joined by a half dozen others, some close, some much deeper in the woods. Naomi shivered and hugged herself, and peered down through the window. Outside fleet shadows raced away into the forest, and were gone.
Chapter 3
Naomi opened her eyes. Sunlight spilled across the quilt, bringing out the rich hues and depths of the multicolored patches. Not wanting to think, to remember anything just yet, she combed her hair away from her face and ran her fingers over the fabric. Hand stitched. It was beautiful, a work of art. She looked up and across the room. Everything here was handmade. Built to last. She snuggled her face against the pillow. Dylan's smell enveloped her, clean and masculine. She thought of him awaking here each morning. Stretching, his potent body at ease. Sunlight glinting in his copper hair. Skin warm, firm over his sinuous muscles. Possibly with a packmate beside him, some lean and athletic she-wolf.
With a sigh she sat up. She was a mess. Before she could begin to lament her lack of toiletries, everything started to click into place. She was in Manistee National Park. Anna's House. Dylan's bedroom. Councilman Stark had tried to kill her. Was a werewolf. Dylan had saved her, summoned by Illixy. Alpha of the Silver Song pack. Which lacked a totem spirit. Which she could provide - if she chose to be his mate.
A powerful urge flowed through her like a sweeping river, a yearning she had never felt before. Irrational, physical, instinctual: the idea of abandoning her carefully structured life for Dylan and his primal, mysterious world was shockingly appealing.
Naomi shook her head. Madness. She barely knew him. Yet last night she had been open to his touch, eager for his lips, wanton and aroused like never before in her life. She blushed furiously as she remembered her response. Even now, the thought of his tanned skin, his simmering eyes, his alluring mixture of assurance and pain, dominance and desire set her pulse racing.
Someone knocked tentatively on the door and then pushed open it open. A young blond woman peered inside. "You're up."
"Yes." Naomi pulled her mind back from thoughts of the alpha and tried to smooth back her hair. Swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. "I arrived last night. Have you heard from Dylan?"
"Yeah." The girl smiled, and that smile changed her mousy face to something alive, almost mischievous. "His pack drove Stark off, and they're out patrolling the woods. They should be back this afternoon to rest." She paused, suddenly shy, "You're all everybody's been talking about."
"I am?" Naomi felt her heart sink. "Oh. Great."
"No, don't be like that." The girl stepped inside and closed the door. "My name's Lacey. Kin to the Silver Song through my mother. My grandfather was a full-blood." She said this with a touch of pride, and then shrugged one shoulder. "But that probably doesn't mean all that much to you just yet."
"I'm Naomi." She found herself warming to the girl. "Dylan told me all sorts of things last night, but it still all sounds a little crazy." She paused, reflected. "No, make that very crazy."
Lacey laughed. "I'll bet. I've known about our family since I was little. To just find out all at once..." She gave her one-shoulder shrug again. "It's never easy on Lost Kin."
"Lost Kin." Naomi tested the name on her tongue. "No. Not easy. I keep wanting to pinch myself."
"Well, I wouldn't bother. It won't help any, and you'll just get bruises." Lacey grinned widely at her own joke. "Are you hungry? You must want to wash. Did you bring any clothing? No, stupid question. Um." She tapped her lips. "OK. I'll find something for you to wear, and show you the shower.
"That would be fantastic." The first steps to feeling human again. Though she was nervous about Lacey's finding the right clothing. She was a slender girl, and nearly two inches shorter than her.
"Okay! Shower, some clean clothes, then breakfast, and I'll introduce you around. If you like?"
Naomi smiled. Lacey was so nervous and eager at the same time. "Sure. That would be lovely."
"Great! This way."
The shower was quick, powerful, and very, very cold. Gasping, shaking, Naomi grabbed the clothing that Lacey had left folded for her over the toilet seat. A large, plaid button-up shirt. Jeans so old and worn they were softer than cotton. No bra, of course, and no panties. Shivering, she shrugged her way into the shirt, and found that while it was tight across the chest, it was otherwise a great fit. The jeans too were perfect, wide enough around the waist to not bother, though taut about her thighs. She appropriated a pair of moccasins, and then hesitated at the top of the stairs and listened to the sounds coming up from the kitchen.
Tinny music was playing on a radio, and voices murmured in an easy, companionable sort of way. She could hear the clink of dishes, and then the steaming cry of a kettle which was promptly cut short. It was the smells, however, that drew her down: sizzling bacon, eggs maybe, and strong coffee.
Naomi descended nervously. The ground floor of Anna's House was brought to life by the sunshine which poured in through the wide open windows. She stepped into view of the open kitchen and four people stopped to turn and look at her.
Lacey was perched on a stool like a squirrel on a stump. Jeb was seated at the narrow kitchen table in a pair of jean overalls and a white cotton shirt, his face as lined and seamed as a brown paper bag that had been scrunched up and then smoothed out. A tall, matronly woman was at the stove where she had been cooking eggs, her
eyes clear and sharp as the winter sky, and a third young woman stood before the open fridge, her braided blond hair so pale it was almost white.
"Good morning." Naomi resisted the urge to tug on the hem of her shirt.
"Well, good morning to you, Naomi. And welcome to Anna's House." The older woman set the pan aside and walked over. "I'm Laura, and you must be half starved. Take a seat. Shania, pour Naomi a mug of coffee."
Naomi let herself be ushered to a chair across from Jeb, and then smiled her thanks as the other girl handed her a heavy mug. The thick, rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee did more to ground her than anything else thus far, and she inhaled deeply.
Laura turned back to the eggs. "You must have a whole heap of questions, and so do we, but let's start with the basics. Why don't you tell us a little about yourself?"
Naomi nodded. Held her mug of coffee close and took a sip. She decided to skip the trauma of her childhood, and started with how she'd attended the University of Chicago for journalism, then accepted a position as a fact checker at the Fort Brixton Post, and worked her way up to journalist.
"You written any big pieces yet?" Shania didn't sound impressed.
"Oh hush." Laura set a heaping plate of bacon and eggs before Naomi.
"What of the totem-seed?" Jeb's voice was a dry drawl. "It true you brought one with you?"
Naomi hesitated, fork halfway to her mouth, and then nodded. It was so strange to discuss Illixy openly. To not face hostile skepticism. To not be told she was mad. There had been no sign of him this morning thus far. "I - yes. I guess I have." She looked from Jeb's dour face to Laura to Lacey. "Um, maybe you guys could tell me a little more about that. Dylan told me a little, but..."
Lacey squirmed eagerly on her stool. "It's everything. The spirit and soul of the pack. But more - its power fills the land where the pack lives. Turns it into a real Cairn, a magical place where the spirits walk and evil cannot enter. And it gives the pack powers, too - all sorts of powers that make them as tough if not tougher than the bad guys."
Naomi absorbed all this. Thought of the pain in Dylan's eyes. "What happened to the old one?"
"We don't like to talk about that much," said Jeb. "But, seeing as your new, we might as well grab the bull by the horns. It was killed." His voice grew heavy. "Last year. A surprise attack by Stark. He lured the Silver Song pack into the city, and then killed Gerard, the old alpha, and destroyed the totem." Jeb's voice shook as he strove to relay this information as matter-of-factly as he could. "He's got himself his own totem, Stark does. An evil, evil thing. It killed ours, and it’s been killing Fort Brixton's soul ever since."
Lacey nodded somberly. "Since then, things haven't been the same. The Silver Song pack split, with Kayden taking almost a third of the full bloods into the city to try and hunt down Stark. They call themselves the Vengeance Pack now."
"Oh." Naomi once again felt out of her depth. "But if the Silver Song pack has a new totem spirit, will this Kayden come back?"
The four kinfolk exchanged dubious glances, and Laura shrugged. "We don't know." There was a depth of emotion to those three words. Longing and loss. "Gerard was like a father to Kayden. Since his death, Kayden's become bitter. He turned his back on us, on the Cairn, to live and fight all the time in the city." Laura took a deep, steadying breath, and gave Naomi a bright, unconvincing smile. "Which is why we're so happy you're here."
Shania's voice was dark. "Dylan's going to have to kill him to re-unite the pack. It's the only way."
"Shania!" Laura whipped around to glare at her.
Naomi stared in horror. "Kill him?"
Jeb nodded gravely. "Most like. Once those two were like brothers. They were pack. But Kayden won't return. Not since he got a taste of being alpha."
Lacey wrung her hands. "And there can be only one, you see, only one alpha in a city. It's a wolf thing, it's all about territory."
Jeb stared at his gnarled hands. "Dylan don't have a choice. He's got to unite the pack to defeat Stark. If he don't, Fort Brixton's lost. And then nothing will stop Stark from hunting us down and killing us all."
The eggs tasted like ashes in Naomi's mouth. Laura's lips were pursed tight, her eyes glimmering. Lacey looked out the window. Only Shania and Jeb stared stonily at her.
Shania gave her a pitiless smile. "So that's the way it is. They'll have to fight. And you'll have to mate with the winner."
Naomi dropped her fork with a clatter. "What?" Shania's eyes shone with cruel pleasure. "I'd have to mate with this Kayden if he kills Dylan?"
Jeb nodded. "Of course, girl. How else would your totem-seed adopt the pack?"
Naomi laughed deep in her throat. "Oh no. I just met Dylan. And, while he's a very - well - attractive guy, this isn't the Middle Ages. I don't just get married off. Not like that."
"Of course." Laura glared at Jeb. "Here we are talking as if you're regular kin. But you're Lost Kin. You don't know how pack and kinfolk work."
Naomi fought to keep her calm. "No. I don't." She stood up. She had to get out. Away from their curious, sympathetic, alien eyes. "Excuse me." She turned and stalked out of the kitchen, through the living room and out the front door. She needed to be alone. To have sunshine on her face. To process.
Naomi followed a path through the tall grass. It was all too much. She wanted Dylan to be back, wanted to ask him questions, learn more about him, search for a solution together. She followed the path in a daze into the trees, where the sun was hidden away beyond the canopy and everything became cool and shady.
The path wound through the woods and rose up till it reached a small clearing that ended at a sheer bluff. Beyond was a view of a small valley, and somewhere close she could hear a stream trickling by. A white stone bench was set to one side, and Naomi walked over to it. An inscription read: To Anna, the sun to my moon, my light in the dark.
"That was written by Dylan's great grandfather." Naomi spun to see Shania standing at the edge of the clearing. "They built the House. Established the Silver Song pack. Would sit on that spot each evening to watch the sun set and give thanks for having had one more day."
Naomi bit down the sharp words that had risen in her throat. "Oh." She looked down at the bench, then out across the valley. "It's a nice view."
"Yeah." Shania walked over to stand beside her, and both women looked out over the treetops. "I come here a lot to think."
They stood in silence. Shania finally looked over at her. "You don't have to do any of this, you know. You could leave. Move to some distant city."
"Yeah, that's what Dylan said." Naomi felt irritable, restless. She sat down on the bench. Did she want to do that? Escape? She thought of Dylan's golden eyes. The strength in his arm, his grin as he'd raced away. No, she realized. She didn't.
Shania sat down next to her. "Being kin isn't easy." Her tone was different. Gone was the cruel edge. "I ran away twice when I was younger. The first time for a week. The second for almost a year. It didn't feel fair, having my life determined by my blood. Being part of this war. Being told to do my duty, to support the pack, to be a good little kinfolk."
Sophia looked over at her sidelong. Shania was staring down at her hands, brow furrowed. "Why did you come back?"
Shania looked up, shrugged, and let out a deep sigh. "Because I missed my family. And nothing seemed to have any meaning away from here. The pack, it makes a difference. In the lives of everybody in the city. I mean, look how fast Fort Brixton's slid down the tubes since last year when the totem and alpha were killed."
Naomi nodded. That had been the focus of her investigations for some time now. The vicious downward spiral events had taken since last July. The spike in crime. The defunding of the police department. Urban flight, the understaffed fire department that often couldn't even get to burning buildings within the first few hours. Almost a quarter of the city was abandoned now. You could buy houses for $1,000, or less. It wasn't quite as bad as Detroit, but it was close.
"I was close to Kayden." Shani
a's looked studiously at her hands. "We were friends, growing up. He wasn't even the beta of the old pack - just a promising young warrior, you know? Dylan was beta to Gerard. Then everything went to hell. Kayden left. Dylan's been doing his best, but without a totem..." Shania trailed off.
Naomi tried to imagine it. The upheaval. The despair. She waited. Shania shook her head slowly.
"Kayden's got a good heart. He's just... he's in a bad place. I don't want him to die. I don't want either of them to die." She lowered her head into her hands.
Naomi reached out and touched her shoulder, then slowly rubbed her back. "There's got to be a way to prevent that. A way to bring them back without their fighting."
Shania took a sharp breath and straightened. "Not that I see."
"Maybe if he sees Illixy - the totem seed, I mean. Maybe that would make him more reasonable." Naomi searched Shania's face. "What do you think?"
Shania thought it over. "Maybe? I don't know."
"It's worth a shot, right? Any chance to prevent him from fighting Dylan is worth checking out?"
Shania nodded. "Yeah. But Kayden... he's very intense. He might not even talk to you."
Naomi squared her shoulders. "Oh, he'll talk to me. I may not know much about being Kin and all that, but I can't pretend this isn't happening. I want to learn more. I want to help, and if Illixy can make a difference, then I'll do what I can." She stood up and smiled at Shania. "I've never been passive about anything. And I'm not about to start now. I'll find Kayden, and I'll do whatever it takes to change his mind."
Chapter 4
Dylan paused and raised his muzzle. Sniffed once, twice, and then blew a sharp snort of air into the afternoon sunshine. He stood in a glade close to the road that led to Anna's House. In wolf form, the world was another place - magical, subtle, alight with potential and information. It made walking as a human an experiment in blindness. Standing still, he could smell where a young deer had passed by just half an hour ago. Instinct bade him turn and follow, silent and predatory, but he was more than just instinct. He curbed it. Above him, hidden from sight, he could smell an owl. An old bird, as dangerous in its own way as he was. Pollen rode the air currents, goldenrod mostly, undercut by the heavy, wet smell of loam from a few hundred yards away where the land dipped into a small bog.
Falling for the Alphas: Part One Page 3
