by Riley Storm
Him and every other male.
“Right. Well, now you do.”
Logan nodded but this time, she didn’t continue on, forcing him to speak. “Well, um, you look good, um, you look fine, so that’s good. Healthy, I mean. You look healthy.”
Using the experience with her mother, Heather prevented herself from the automatic eyeroll such a sentence should have evoked. “It’s not like it shows evidence of manifestation,” she laughed. “Otherwise, it wouldn’t be such a big fear among us female shifters. We could plan for it, accept it, if it was like that.”
That was a big fat lie. After all, how did you plan for a virus that turned you into a half-human, half-wolf beast that wanted to do nothing but fight, feed and procreate? Well, practice procreating, at least.
Still, it wasn’t Logan’s fault. Male shifters didn’t have to worry about it since the Loup-Garou virus only affected female shifters, and never after their thirty-first birthday. Nobody quite knew why, but that was the way it was.
It was the results of the virus that had given birth to the legends of werewolves amongst the human population. It only took several attacks and human deaths before word spread. And it was also why wolf shifters hated being labelled as werewolves. The two were as different as a shifter and a Loup-Garou.
A shifter controlled his change, choosing when and where to alter his body into the shape of a wolf. A werewolf was a feral mixture of human and wolf, melded into some grotesque half-and-half creature. Neither wolf nor man controlled it, and it could change at random—though often with the moon—for reasons unknown.
Last, there was the Loup-Garou, the rarest of them all. A virus lay dormant in female shifter DNA to rear its head at random anytime from puberty till age thirty-one. If it went active, the female mind was consumed with rage, hunger, and a thirst for sexual satisfaction. On top of that, however, their body would be permanently transformed into a large, and powerful wolf-man, walking on two legs, but with the arms and head of a wolf.
As if there wasn’t enough to deal with, being a rarity as a female shifter. We also have to deal with that bullshit.
“Right, well, I just meant you don’t look any different than the last time I saw you,” Logan managed to get out eventually.
“That was a few hours ago.”
He sighed. “I meant, like, before you left, Heather. You know that,” he added in a slightly harder voice, letting her know he wasn’t impressed with her attitude.
“Just don’t go there,” she said, holding up a hand. “What happened, happened. It’s over. You screwed it up.”
“So I’ve been told,” he retorted hotly. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t want to jeopardize your impending mating to Leonen. That would be improper of me.”
“What?” she lashed out, angry that he was angry. “Like beating him up in private is proper?”
Logan just stared at her in surprise.
Shaking her head, she turned to go. “Same old Logan,” she said. “Always thinking for himself, never listening to others. Or me.”
Then she ran off into to the maze of tunnels, leaving him behind before he could call her out for hiding behind her own fears while she lashed out at him.
Because that was precisely what she had just done.
5
Why is she here?
Unlike the Tyrant King, Logan didn’t ban anyone from attending the meetings of the Council. They were supposed to be open to anyone, though obviously etiquette often meant that only those with certain standing or power were allowed to speak. Logan had brought that tradition back, but he didn’t publicize the meetings either. Not now, while the House was still on such wobbly ground.
Not that we really discuss the finer details of our plans here anyway. This is just for broad strokes. Anything specific can be discussed in private meetings to ensure our enemies don’t know about it.
But because the Council meetings were open, he couldn’t exactly randomly ban people from them. Including Heather, though he very much wished she wasn’t there. He needed to focus on the issue at hand, not his own problems, and she was making that difficult, despite sitting at the back and keeping quiet.
Thank goodness for small miracles, I guess. Okay, focus, Logan. Your people are counting on you.
“We’ve found signs of them here,” the Captain of the House was saying as he pointed at a location on the map.
Logan eyed his Captain, giving himself a mental nod. Linden hadn’t exactly wanted the position, feeling that he wasn’t qualified for it, but so far, he was settling in and doing a great job. Just like Logan knew he would. Now his scouts had found the final piece.
“The Tyrant King’s hideout,” he mused. “Tell your men I said good job. This is the last thing we need to do to bring the House back together as one.”
“It won’t be easy,” Lucien said, speaking up as the voice of caution.
Exactly as I would like my successor to do. Lucien was the Knight of the House, and the second in command, ready to assume the throne in the unfortunate case that Logan died, or when he chose to step down.
Which will hopefully be sooner rather than later.
“No, it won’t,” the Captain agreed. “He may have lost much of his support, but the Kraits are still loyal to him, and with those six on his side, any attempt to fight will be meat with heavy resistance.”
Logan nodded, making sure he kept that in mind when deciding on the final plan of attack. There was no choice, of course, they had to attack. The Tyrant King must be brought down, and his threat to the House ended.
The Kraits promised to be a huge thorn in the side of that plan, however, and Logan wasn’t entirely sure he had the resources necessary to deal with them. He glanced over at his Magi, the first human to ever hold a seat of power in a shifter House. It was unorthodox, but was quite probably the most unanimously approved decision he’d made yet.
“The Kraits are a handful,” Jennifer said, staring intently at the map. “They’re all trained to hunt and kill magic users like me. They’ll have an array of magic artifacts to help them, and on top of that, they have all the benefits of being shifters as well.” She frowned. “It’s kind of unfair, truthfully.”
A low chuckle ran around the table. Logan joined in it briefly but didn’t let it distract him from her words. She was right, of course. The Canis Kraits, just like the Ursa Wasps, were a group of shifters specifically trained to hunt and bring down rogue mages. And they were good at their job.
Ever since the conclusion of the shifter-mage war slightly over a century before, the shifters had laid out very strict laws on what magic could and couldn’t be used anymore. If a mage was caught breaking those laws…the Kraits went after them. They were good at what they did. Very good.
“Can you handle them?” he asked as the laughter subsided.
“I…don’t know,” Jennifer admitted. “I’ve never gone up against one before. Let alone six. At best my answer is maybe. Maybe I can do something to hold them up long enough for one of you to get close and, uh, do your thing. Do your job. Bring ‘em down. Do your stuff.”
She meant kill them, but Logan knew Jennifer was still having a hard time adjusting to that aspect of shifter life, so he didn’t bring it up.
“Get in touch with your counterpart over in House Ursa, perhaps, and see if they can offer any advice,” he suggested, knowing that would be uncomfortable for her given her past with them, but also knowing it would be necessary.
“Of course,” Jennifer said, nodding sharply.
“That being said,” Logan continued, addressing the table as a whole. “I don’t think we really have any other choice. We need to go in, find them, and deal with them. Which unfortunately at this point, is probably going to mean killing them.”
There was silence at the table.
“Anyone disagree?” he asked, hoping against hope that someone might be able to come up with a plan that didn’t involve more bloodshed.
He was only greeted by silence. As I e
xpected. Damn.
“Well, in that case, we’ll proceed with the attack. Linden will draw up plans in conjunction with our Magi, and we will go from there. Agreed?”
He looked around the table. His Council, such as it was with half the positions still unfilled, all looked at him with agreement because the plan itself merited agreement. As he extended his gaze to take in those seated at the wider table, the political figures of the House, he saw that many of them thought his plan unnecessary. They would only agree by dint of the fact that he was King, not because he was right.
“Dismissed,” he said after a moment and the parties filed out, followed by his Council.
Everyone except for Heather, who stayed seated in the back until the room was empty. Great. Was he in for another lecture on how he’d screwed things up in the past? Because he really wasn’t interested. He knew that. It was how he’d screwed up that he just didn’t get, because she wouldn’t tell him.
“I’ve told you already!”
That was the response he would get. Which didn’t help, because she hadn’t.
Women.
“Brilliant plan.”
Rolling his eyes, Logan caught up and headed for a side exit, intending to head back to his office and get some more work done. There were all sorts of mundane paperwork and the like that he had to oversee as King. It never ended.
“Charge in there and kill them all. Because that’ll work.”
“You know, if you’ve got something to say, say it,” he snapped, losing his patience.
Heather got up and followed him as he pushed open the side door and walked out.
“This is a mistake.”
Logan sighed, stopping in the hallway and turning to face her. “Oh really? Why is that?”
“Because,” Heather said. “It’s a trap.”
6
Logan just stared back at her.
“It’s a trap,” she insisted, trying to get him to listen to her for once.
Fat chance of that happening.
“Nobody else suggested it was a trap,” he said slowly. “Why do you think it is?”
Heather blinked. “Wait, you really want to know?”
“Of course,” Logan said with a frown. “If you have information we don’t, then you need to tell me.”
“No, no information,” she said. “But I’m looking at it from a different perspective than you.”
“What do you mean?” Logan crossed his arms, looking at her with doubt clearly writ on his face.
“It’s too obvious, Logan. You found him too easily.” She wracked her brain, trying to figure out how to explain it to him. “When you attacked the Manor, you had no idea he was already gone. Now a few days later, you’re desperately searching for him, and you just happen to stumble across evidence of his location? It’s too easy. You’re rushing into it, you’re too eager. The Tyrant King isn’t an idiot, he knows—”
Logan raised a hand to cut her off. “I considered all those reasons, Heather. But it’s not enough. The attack will go on as planned.
“Listen to me,” she said stubbornly. “You can’t do this. There will be better opportunities. Don’t let your desire to end this conflict blind you!”
The instant she said the words, she knew she’d lost him. That if anything, she’d just given him reason to fortify his stance.
Logan, who had turned to keep walking, whirled back to face her, his eyes blazing with golden flames. “No shit I want to end the conflict,” he said, his voice filled with pain, not anger. “You don’t know what it’s like,” he said, staring her down. “You don’t.”
Heather bit her lip, stifling any reply. Now was not the time for it.
“You weren’t here,” he continued. “You didn’t witness the bloodshed. The betrayal of bonds that should have run deeper than blood. The backstabbing, literally. The killing. The brutal division between people who once considered themselves friends. Family.” Logan ran a hand over his head. “It ripped us apart, Heather. So much death. I want to fix it. I need to fix it. To end it, so we can start to heal. Absolutely nobody should have to go through what we did. But you wouldn’t know that, you were sheltered from all that during your little vacation in Australia with your family, letting them do everything for you.”
Now Heather did speak. She snarled in fact, getting up in Logan’s face. “And just whose fault do you think it was that I was there, hmm? Who drove me to leave with my family? Who made me want to be anywhere but here?”
Logan didn’t respond; instead, he just stared angrily at one wall.
“You,” she said in that same snarl. “It was you, Logan.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that you don’t understand why this conflict needs to end,” he said quietly. “And end now.”
“Yes, I do. I’ve seen the reports. I’ve talked to survivors. I get it, Logan, I really do, but you need to hold off on this. It’s a trap, I’m telling you.”
Even as she argued, Heather knew it was fruitless. Logan had already made up his mind, deciding the attack would go ahead as planned. He so badly wanted everything to be over with, that he was willing to risk too much to get it. And she was terrified that others would pay the price.
That perhaps he would pay the price. Maybe that was what really scared her, she wondered. That Logan would sacrifice anything to end the fighting, including himself, if he thought it would help speed the healing. She knew he would put the needs of the House before himself, but she didn’t want to see him throw his life away in vain. Not when it wasn’t necessary—if he would just see.
“You never listen to me,” she snapped before he could speak again. “Not then, not now. All I’m trying to do is help you, Logan. That’s all. Not control you or change you. Help. That’s it. But you won’t accept my advice.”
“What are you talking about?” he growled. “I listened, and I told you I already thought of it, and decided it wasn’t.”
Heather’s face made contact with the palm of her hand as she buried it there in an expression of frustration. He had literally just admitted to not listening to her, while explaining how he had listened to her. How was she supposed to fight that logic?
If she just accepted it, then people would die, and she would feel that on her conscience. But she wasn’t the King. Or Queen. She had no power, no control.
I can’t even control what my own family orders me to do. Why do I think I can get him to listen to me?
“No, you didn’t listen,” she said, stepping forward, pushing her finger into his chest. “You just pretend to. That’s all.”
Logan stared at her. “You told me it was a trap. I listened and asked why.”
She stared. That’s not all that ‘listening’ entails, you oaf!
Screaming it at him wouldn’t help though. It hadn’t in the past, so why would it be any different now he was King?
“When this blows up in your face, you don’t get to come to me,” she snarled, jabbing her finger into him again. “Is that understood? When people die because of this, you don’t come to me. This is not on me. It’s on you, Logan. I hope you’re prepared to live with the consequences.”
He closed his eyes, and when they opened again, she caught her breath at the pain in them. For just a moment, she saw past his exterior as he let himself be vulnerable with her.
“I already am,” he said quietly. “I will have to live with all the consequences for the rest of my life. Not just of this, but of everyone who died fighting under my banner. Their deaths are on me. I won’t have this go on anymore, Heather. I can’t.”
He reached up to grab her hand, pulling it away from his chest, but froze as his larger fingers wrapped around hers.
Heather’s chest tightened as they touched for the first time in three years. Her mouth suddenly dry, she looked up at him, memories cascading through her mind. Memories of another time. A different time, when a touch like this would have led to something else. Something…more.
Was she swaying closer to him
? Was Logan’s head dipping to her level? She tried to fight it, to pull back, but she kept coming back to his hand as it covered hers. She remembered now what those fingers felt like, dimpling her back as he ran them up and down her spin, or gripping her hips.
Mouth dropping open slightly, she swayed closer, looking up into his face. This was wrong. She shouldn’t be doing this, and yet those amber orbs kept sucking her in deeper and deeper, a promise of gentleness and warmth. All she had to do was—
“Ahem.”
They both jerked upright, hands falling apart as someone made themselves known.
“Sorry, my King. But the Magi asked me to find you. She has some suggestions about the plan, I believe.”
Logan looked up the hallway to address the messenger, and Heather took that moment to flee down the hallway without another word.
What was I thinking?
7
Turning on her heels, she walked the length of the room. Again. This time, she managed to tell herself she wasn’t pacing and fretting because she only looked at the clock twice, not three times, before pivoting and walking back.
“If you keep that up, you’re going to have to replace the carpet,” her mother drawled from where she sat on a nearby couch.
Heather ignored her. Her focus wasn’t on the then and now. It was out there, with Logan and the others who had gone with him to find the Tyrant King and kill him. Hopefully. They had been gone for two hours now, and she still hadn’t heard anything.
Should I go after them?
Maybe she could spoil the trap before they walked into it and got themselves killed in the process.
Her phone buzzed on the table. Pausing mid-stride, she glanced at the ID of the person messaging her and just sighed, resuming her pacing. There was a lot more on her mind than Leonen and whatever he wanted. They weren’t officially mated yet anyway, so he could wait, she didn’t have to answer.
