by Ally Parker
“I’ve wished so many times he’d just moved on. Or, that I’d been older, stronger. Maybe we would have stood a chance.”
Barely above a whisper, Ryker said the words lodged in her throat. “He came back, didn’t he?”
She nodded. Damn, it was hard to revisit the worst mistake of her life. Ryker had a way to make her feel stronger, and she wanted to share what had happened. He’d mentioned back in his den her questionable scruples and for some reason she desperately wanted him to understand that she wasn’t always like that. Everyone else may see her as a betrayer, a traitor. She wanted Ryker to see her differently, as something more than the bad guy.
“They attacked in the early hours of the morning. We only had two mated pairs and three males—one had barely started shifting—and I’d only just begun to show abilities to call on my wolf. Jefferson’s pack was at least thirteen strong. We didn’t stand a chance. Jefferson made quick work to kill my mom. He just wrapped his claws around her throat and yanked. I think he honestly took pleasure from the looks on our faces.”
She could still see the way Jefferson’s nostrils flared and how he’d thrown back his head as if in the throes of pleasure. Ryker growled; the scent of his anger stole her breath. Reliving the memories tore at her insides, but saying what had happened to another soul eased some of the weight she’d been struggling to carry around. Even now, she still felt the splatters of blood hit her face.
“It took only minutes, and my father turned rogue. He knew if I didn’t that I’d be his first victim. I can still see how he dropped to his knees and feel the blade he shoved into my hand, pressing it against his throat. I… I… killed him. I didn’t want to. But I did it.”
People like her couldn’t be redeemed. No matter how much she wanted forgiveness for the crimes she’d committed, she doubted the world worked like that. She cleared her throat, trying to shift the thick and nasty emotions wedged there.
“It all wrapped up pretty quickly after that. Jefferson stole me into his pack, and no matter how hard I’ve tried to escape, his claws have been embedded into my soul. Until now.”
Nothing she’d tried got her out of that hell. Fighting the Outlaws led to punishment, fleeing led to punishment, begging led to punishment. So she’d done the best she could to exist and wait until one day she could break the hold that trapped her like the cuffs she held in her hands.
She felt Ryker’s Adam apple dip low into his throat. “Did they… did he touch you, Kitty?”
The words were soft, belittling the way his body tensed, waiting for her response. There had been a few times it had been close but no, thankfully, fate had given her that mercy. “Jefferson wanted me pure for his son.” She laughed. “When I became strong enough to bear young, Jaxx didn’t want me. Even so, the male warded off anyone interested, so I guess because Jaxx seemed possessive of me, his father kept hope we’d breed.”
How many times had Jaxx saved her ass? “Jaxx wasn’t anything like his father. He often refused to take part in the hunts. This one time, Jefferson and Jaxx had fought tooth and claw and Jefferson had him locked in the tank.”
“The tank?”
She suppressed a shiver. “It was Jefferson’s favorite way to teach his subordinates a lesson. He’d bind you in cuffs similar to these.” She tapped on the cuff for emphases. “Bury you in a reinforced coffin and apply an oxygen mask to you. You’d be forced to just lie there and hear the pitter-patter of dirt as they covered you and wonder if he’d come back before the air ran out.”
Over the years she had become acquainted with the tank. A lot. How many times had she clawed at the metal until her fingers bled? Not that it helped. She had been trapped, unable to move, left there until the oxygen tank emptied, her lungs burning for air. Her breathing blew out and sucked in just as quick. For many years she hadn’t been able to tolerate enclosed spaces. She still hated it. Trying to fight against Jefferson the only way she knew how, she worked her ass off to get rid of the fear. Now, it was only an issue if something covered her head.
“That was the last time Jaxx learned a lesson from Jefferson. His own father didn’t go back to release him. Not long after that he showed interest in me, declared that I was to be his. I knew then I had to escape or die trying because if I stayed and was forced to be Jefferson’s mate, I’d be dead in every way that mattered.”
She poured out more of the horror stories that was her life and hoped Ryker wouldn’t see her differently. It mattered that he knew who she really was.
“Jesus.” Ryker breathed out, hot air washing over her skin.
The lock clicked open and before she knew what was happening, Ryker pulled her onto his lap and buried her head in the crease of his neck. Melting against him she let his warmth envelop her and burrowed deeper into his warmth, into the strength he willingly offered.
“Jesus, Kali. You make my family look like church-abiding Christians. All this time I thought my father’s quest for the perfect son was the most fucked-up existence. You proved me wrong. Not the beatings, the starvation, the refusal of basic affection can compare to what you’ve been through.”
His thumb swiped across her cheek, capturing the renegade tear. “I can smell your pain and your guilt. It makes me want blood. My wolf is scratching at my insides to hunt the fuckers down and tear them limb from limb.” His embrace tightened. “Touching you, smelling you, is all I can do to keep my monster leashed. I’m just so damn sorry you had to endure that. You were a mere child. You weren’t to blame for what happened. Jefferson is. You’ve done what it’s taken to survive, and I’m glad you did. Otherwise I wouldn’t’ be holding onto you right now.”
She shook her head. That might have been the case when she was too young to know better, but as a grown-up she’d done anything to live. Anything. It had been her choice. And she had chosen to live, damn the consequences or anyone caught up in the cross fire. Only, lately she’d realized it was sheer surviving—she wasn’t living—and she had no connections, no love, and no acceptance. She belonged nowhere. Well, that wasn’t exactly right anymore. She belonged with Ryker.
“Shhh. It’s true. It’s in everyone—you, me, everyone in this goddamn planet’s DNA—to survive. It’s why we have instincts. Normally, you’d have pack, a family to support you, share burdens and guide decisions. You had nothing but your wolf and your instincts to drive you. It’s a miracle you have lived this long, considering.”
Her lip wobbled. She sucked it into her mouth, refusing to let the floodgates of a decade’s worth of emotion bubble out. Not then. Ryker may not have realized it, but he’d given her the most precious gift anyone had given her—acceptance. God, she’d wanted it for so long, and with a few words, he’d given it to her just like that.
“You’re not a bad person, Kali.”
Until Ryker said the words—so adamantly, like he really believed them—she didn’t know how much she’d been yearning to hear them. Everything in her wanted to believe him. She wanted to argue but now wasn’t the time or the place. Squeezing Ryker tight for a moment, she let go and laughed, the humor drained from the sound. “We make one fucked-up mess.”
He smiled, the silver of his eyes blazing like liquid metal. “We might be fucked up. But Kali, you’re my fucked-up mess and I’m yours—make no mistake about that.”
How could such simple words make her heart feel like it was fuller, bigger, thumping like a bass drum in her chest? All this time she thought family was out of reach, a loss she’d never really recovered from. Ryker made her feel like it was possible.
With her trapped in Ryker’s strong embrace, he made anything feel possible.
13
Ryker rolled his shoulders for the twentieth time. He was unsettled. No, that didn’t even begin to cover what he was feeling. He doubted any word would. His stomach roiled with knotted waves of nausea, his skin itched, and it felt like the fire of Hades licked at his insides. That wasn’t even mentioning the hell his wolf was going through. The beast clawed at his insid
es, wild, frantic, desperate to go back to Kali. Every instinct he possessed demanded he give up the charade and get his mate the hell away from a place set to harm her. Too bad he’d die if he broke the farce right then.
Was Kali okay? She’d been through so much and he wanted to keep her safe for always. The image of her cuffing herself to the bed and gracing him with a small smile made him feel like a bucket-load of shit. He should have gotten her to bite him. At least then they’d have a way to communicate through the link a bite would establish. But, no, he’d been so consumed with desire he’d been thinking with nothing but his dick. Selfish bastard. Walking away and leaving Kali vulnerable had been the hardest damn thing he’d ever done.
His father turned his head to face him, brow lifting. “Is something wrong?”
Only then did he realize a constant ongoing rumble had been traveling up his throat. Coughing, he tamped it down. Jesus. The scent of his rage prickled at his skin and hung around him heavy in the air. So thick, so potent he was surprised he hadn’t partially shifted. But, fuck it, he’d been forced to leave Kali unprotected when his father demanded his presence, leaving him no choice.
He grunted and mumbled, “I wasn’t anywhere near finished with the female.”
Josef chuckled, turning to slap him on the shoulder.
“Thatta boy. I’m proud of you, embracing your future with open arms. I didn’t think you had it in you. But like they say, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree after all.”
Funny, Ryker had longed to hear words of praise from his father’s lips his whole life. There was a time he would have done anything to hear his approval. Now the words made him feel sick, like his body was filling up with an oily sludge even though he hadn’t taken Kali in the way his father assumed. He didn’t know if he’d ever feel clean again. One thing was certain; he was nothing like his father.
Josef squeezed his shoulder and continued down the dimly lit tunnels. His fingers itched to wipe where his father’s hand had been as if that could somehow get rid of the taint that had seeped into his skin with the touch. The only thing holding him back was the watchful eyes of Brennon the Beta. A small entourage surrounded them. It was just like his father to be carry a posse of shifters around with him. Nothing and nobody screamed attention like his old man.
Casing the area, it concerned him to see so many doors just like the one that hid the cell where Kali waited. Five, ten, twelve rooms framed the tunnel walls. Small crevices in the walls housed hanging lights, and large boxed shafts were mounted from the ceiling, he supposed to provide fresh oxygen in the depths of the Pit.
The faint scent of females hung in the air, combined with despair and pain. His nostrils flared, sucking the smell deeper, learning the secrets only scent could give him. The notes in the air were barely there. No females had been used or abused in a while, it seemed?
“It’s impressive, isn’t it?” Brennon spoke from beside him, his gaze assessing.
“It’s a lot bigger than I’d expected.” Sadly. He had severely underestimated what his father was capable of.
The tunnel drew to an intersection and deep to the left he could hear the sound of construction banging, the air pressure bursting out of a tool and thwacking into wood, combined with undercurrents of vibrations. Upgrades? He couldn’t see much from the angle he was in. Maybe if he got an opportunity he’d explore later.
Their group continued forward down the corridor. The area was different, more modern and less underground lair. Embellishments on the walls set the atmosphere almost as if he were entering the Roman Colosseum with column helix torches bordering the walkway. He’d noticed a large symbol similar to their glyph markings on the walls of every intersection. An inverted triangle with a circle surrounding it.
His brows pulled down as he wondered at the icon’s significance. “What’s the symbol mean?”
“The triangle signifies fertility, the circle represents shifters, and it’s all done like our glyphs for obvious reasons,” Brennon said.
He grunted, trying to sound impressed. It was hard. The more he learned about the Pit, the harder it became to act like he belonged in that kind of hell. His father sure had thought of everything, down to an official cult symbol, it seemed.
Josef pulled out a cigar, shoving the end onto a finger guillotine and clipping the tip clean off. “And it’s about to get bigger. Six suites are being built in the western end. They are due to be finished by week’s end.”
“Suites?”
If suites meant cells, he was witnessing delusions front row and center. Though he had noticed the males using terms that seemed to delete responsibility—volunteer instead of victim. The machinery noise dimmed, however the vibration in the air increased. He frowned, trying to place the noise. It wasn’t exactly voices… More like many voices blending together and creating a dull roar.
Josef lit it up the cigar, puffing the cedar fumes into the air. “There’s a lot you need to learn, son. We aren’t heathens rutting all day. There is a process, protocol that all must follow; otherwise, we’d damage the females we have and chaos would rule. Some of the high-rolling males want more time with the females than the allotted night they get so we are in the process of accommodating their needs.”
He was really starting to hate how Josef kept referring to him as son. It served as a constant reminder that they were linked through blood. Ryker’s lips thinned, and somehow he managed to nod as if what his father said wasn’t the most fucked-up thing he’d ever heard. Things were more disturbing that he first thought. This operation had been carefully crafted, logically thought out, and well-governed to get this big. His father was truly a monster and needed to be put down before anyone else got hurt.
Thinking he could take the Pit down solo had been stupid. He’d thought it to be a helluva lot smaller. Scheduling a last-minute email to land in his beta, Grayson’s, mail-box had been the right thing to do. Now he just hoped his plans would fall into place. He couldn’t entertain failure now. Not with Kali’s life on the line. He should find an excuse to go back there and check on her. If anyone had been in the room with Kali, he would die. Brutally, bloody, and mercilessly. And he’d enjoy every minute of it.
He opened his mouth to make his excuses when Josef cut him off.
“Here we are. This is where the action happens.”
Grinding his teeth, he suppressed a growl. Everything about this place made him sicker by the second.
Two males stood guarding the entrance of double doors, their arms crossed. He supposed they were trying to look imposing and, by the gleam in their gaze, hoping for some action. Both eyed him as they neared. With the way he was feeling he hoped they spoke out, looked at him wrong, anything that would justify an altercation. His wolf wanted nothing more than to draw blood. Specifically, from those responsible for hurting Kali, but any would sate his monster for the time being.
As if choreographed, the guard’s nostrils flared, and both immediately straightened, eyeing Josef. The shorter male moved, bowing at the waist, and opened the doors, revealing a large room set up like an amphitheater, only more intimate. Seating cascaded down each side of the stadium center. Nowhere near as big as one would expect for the big league. It would have only seated a few hundred. Still, that was plenty when the occupants were outlanders.
By the looks, it was a full house. Male shifters were everywhere. Some drank, some sat in the darkest reaches of the shadows, some fought for positions closest to a caged stage on the far wall. Someone had gone to the length of decorating around the border of the cage’s frame with tinsel—like that did anything to change how wrong the setup was.
The air smelled like shattered freedom and nightmares brought to life. It also held a heavy denseness to it, telling him they’d delved deeper underground. Not only that, but the stale stench of blood and death coated the musky aroma in the air. It did nothing to quell the excitement spilling from every shifter in the room. Whatever was about to happen, it was big.
His
skin itched fur running up the length of his arm only to suck back in. The energy felt wrong. It called to his wolf in a way that scared him to the marrow of his bones. The monster he held caged within him snapped and snarled, fighting for freedom, wanting full reign. Don’t give in. Think of Kali. She needs you. The thought of leaving her alone and defenseless against a den full of borderline rogues took the razor edge of the beast’s control. For now. But for how long?
Josef stood to the side and swept his arm wide, encompassing the room like a proud parent. His smile stretched, showing the dimples many women gushed over. Too bad it was a façade for a creature that would stab you in the back with one hand while embracing you with the other. Nothing good ever came from dealing with Josef Bennett
“Welcome to the games. It’s not scheduled for another week. But since you are joining the pack, it’s cause for celebration. I took the liberty to change the date.”
The three males that led the entourage slapped some hundred dollar bills in the palm of a large male dressed in leather, and the three of them headed down a set of steps to the right. His gaze followed them down to a door at the base of the stairwell.
“That leads to the participant chambers where the males prepare to fight.” Josef’s shoulder nudged his, and he blew out a plume of smoke. “The males fight for the right to breed with a female.”
It clicked into place. The whole sickening concept of it all. “And the males have to pay for the right to fight?” Therefore funding the whole damn place.
“Now you’re catching on. This isn’t a cheap operation to run. Even with all the money we raise, we still need more.” Josef leaned close, the smell of depravity choking Ryker. “I’m building an empire. I’m on the verge of changing shifter history.”
Not if he had anything do with it.
Kali stared at the spider web of cracks fanning across the ceiling. One of the springs dug uncomfortably into her back, but that was the least of her problems. She’d been lying on the edge of her senses for what felt like an hour, fearing some other male would enter the room and really take what wasn’t his. So far, she’d been lucky. Had they been able to pull off what Josef expected? Is that why the guards had demanded his presence?
