by Aline Hunter
“Every dead shifter inside that warehouse was a different breed, and not one of them was a wolf.” Trey lifted his head and looked directly at Diskant, conveying the significance of the fact. “When the leaders of the shifter races learn that Shepherds are in town for Emory they’ll demand we hand him over. No one will risk going to war with them. Not if it endangers their families and mates.”
Diskant cursed the circumstances, processing the information as quickly as possible. As an Omega, he had the final say on what went down in his city. Sometimes that held sway when it came to the wolves in the area. He had, after all, been born a wolf shifter and maintained very close ties to them. But by killing off different shifter breeds—of a predatory nature no less—the Shepherds effectively made this a matter he couldn’t take sides on. When those missing pack and pride mates demanded recompense he would be expected to provide it. Emory, a werewolf born into his original pack, wouldn’t qualify for any special consideration. Their connection alone would cause all the other shifters to be wary and distrusting.
Diskant looked at Ava, torn for the first time in his life.
If he weren’t newly mated, the decision would be as simple as breathing. Despite his status, he would arrange something that would save his brethren and force the threat from the city. Shepherds took the supernatural creatures they captured to special holding places where they could be “exorcised” of the demon within before their soul was given safe passage to the hell they viewed as heaven. Knowing that, he could have safely handed Emory over, trailed the sadistic zealots and put an end to this outside of his territory.
Now, however, there was so much more at stake.
He couldn’t leave Ava behind. Following a second mark she’d need the closeness and mating more than before. Without it, she would become crazed. Not a pretty sight, especially when a newly mated shifter was killed and left his or her mate behind. Usually the most humane thing to do was to put them down.
Of all the fucking irony.
Ava went tense beside him and he started to lean over to ask her what was wrong when Trey braced his elbows on the table and a loud growl rent the air.
“I’m not handing my brother to them.” The wolf under Trey’s skin was barely contained. His eyes changed color as his canines lengthened, causing his vowels to slur. “If they want him, they’ll have to fight for him.”
Diskant had to force his own wolf to quiet as it rose to greet a fellow pack mate’s fury. He understood Trey’s outburst, as Diskant was the one who had brought the pack together after Trey and Emory faced off, nearly killing each other in the process. Their rivalry put an enormous wedge between the wolves in the pack. It was the only reason Emory had decided to leave. Two roosters in a henhouse wasn’t a good idea, and no matter how much the men loved each other, their wolves were too dominant to stomach the other existing inside their territory.
Ava lifted her hand and wrapped her fingers around his wrist, caressing his knuckles with flicks of her thumb while leaning against him. The effect was staggering. The wolf went quiet, was forced aside, and he heard the cat within purr as it took control, brushed against the inside of his skin and attempted to get closer to the woman stroking him.
“Trey.” Nathan spoke quietly and clasped his Alpha’s arm. “Don’t amp up the room. They’re already primed.”
“Goddamn it,” Trey snapped as he struggled with his beast and attempted to take control. After a moment, when he was back in charge, Nathan released him. The strain was evident in the Beta’s posture, his hand visibly trembling as he pulled it beneath the table.
“Did you contact all of the Alphas about the missing shifters?” Diskant asked, hoping like hell that he didn’t sound like the pussycat Pinkie had brought to the surface of his skin.
Trey took a deep breath and sat back, shaking his head. “I left as soon as we made the discovery and came here.”
“I can’t put shifter lives in danger for the sake of one of my own, which means we need time to formulate a plan. As soon as the Alphas find out what’s happening, you know what they’re going to want.” Diskant made sure he had Trey’s full attention when he said, “We have to know what we’re going to do when we’re forced to hand Emory over. Do you want to take this across state lines? Do you want to risk placing their wrath on the heads of another pack?”
It was a fucked-up situation none of them wanted to be a part of. No matter what they did, they sacrificed one of their own. By choosing to follow and rescue they’d tread into the territories of other packs along the way. Shepherds were known for making their messages loud and clear by annihilating the populations in small towns, and there were bound to be plenty of them between New York and Colorado.
“We have to end this here.” Trey rubbed his hands together and gazed blindly across the room. “If we follow them, we’ll have to kill everyone we find.”
“Can you live with that?” Diskant asked, unable to force the rest of the question from his mouth. Could any of them live with killing women and children? Because that is what it would come down to. Shepherds steeped their children in their warped beliefs at a young age, ensuring that their demented “purpose” was ingrained from the moment they could understand the spoken word.
“You have to give me to them. It’s the only way,” Emory interrupted, his eyes wild and glowing. “When will you tell the rest of the packs why they’re here?”
Diskant felt Ava tremble beside him and he tightened his hold and bowed over slightly, giving the illusion that she was sheltered under his shoulder. “I should tell them tonight,” he responded without hesitation, relieved when she settled beside him. “They have a right to know. If it had been wolves that were skinned alive, we’d be out for blood.”
“We need to know more about the Shepherds’ enclave,” Trey said, turning to Emory. “If their numbers are small the pack can challenge them directly.”
“You’re asking the wrong person.” Emory laughed but there was no humor in the gesture. If anything, the Alpha seemed on the brink of a breakdown. “Mary didn’t tell me anything. She wasn’t even aware of the importance of her surname.”
“I can tell you.”
There was a moment of silence as everyone turned to the source of the interruption—the little bundle under his arm.
Ava.
She smiled at their curious stares and continued stroking his skin, the motion of her thumb calm and soothing, as if she gleaned just how much it affected him.
“You can tell us what?” Diskant asked, aware that the others at the table wouldn’t dare address his mate to ask the question.
She turned her head, smiled at him and answered, “Everything.”
Chapter Eleven
“You’d best repent, lest you find yourself bedded amongst the wolves.”
Mary tried not to wince as her newest captor stood over her at his place at the pulpit, legs shoulder’s width apart, expression unreadable. This time it was John Shepherd with a bible in one hand and a cross in the other—one of eleven Shepherds who lived on the sacred family land in northern Colorado that had been passed down through the generations.
It had been like this since the night she’d discovered the man who brought excitement and joy to her life wasn’t a man at all but something else. A beast, she’d been told, who was cursed with half the soul of an animal. She’d have argued the fact if she hadn’t seen it for herself. The lupine features that had distorted his jaw, lengthened his canines, and changed the hue of the iris were impossible to discredit.
Foolishly, she’d fled, unable to see past the terrifying shape of the beast to the man.
That was the tragedy of trusting illusion—you couldn’t always perceive what you should. Even those who appeared normal could be cursed with something far worse than a wolf beneath the skin.
Far, far worse…
“I don’t hear you, Mary.”
The warning was enough for her to start the prayer over, mumbling into her clasped hands as she balance
d herself on bruised knees until she reached the portion of the passage that gave her pause.
“Behold, I send you forth as a sheep in the midst of wolves: be ye therefore wise as serpents and harmless as doves. But beware of men: for they will deliver you up to the councils, and they will scourge you in their synagogues.”
She continued to recite the passage that was once foreign and strange but was now memorized to perfection, allowing her mind to drift.
How had her life come to this? How could the man she knew as a father have belonged to a group of people that manipulated and twisted the passages of the bible to suit their purposes?
She shivered as she continued to speak, trying to remove the morbid images that always surfaced from her mind.
The moment her uncle had learned of her romantic involvement with Emory and had forced her to face the truth of what he was, he’d shown her the extent of his depravity by driving her to the large building situated on the far end of the property, near the woods and a long stretch of water that nourished the cattle and livestock. The smells coming from it had been more than enough to keep her interest at bay when she’d arrived five years before, but as he drew nearer in the truck, with the windows down, she’d truly understood the depths of the stench.
It was one of rot, decay and, worst of all—death.
She’d kept her hand across her nose and mouth as she exited the truck and Elijah had instructed her to wait while the vans behind them parked and the men inside climbed out. There had been eleven in all, each familiar as they were family members who owned the adjacent farms and raised livestock or grew crops. They attended church services every Sunday with their families and seemed to be decent, god-fearing Christians.
Christians, she thought bitterly. Now that was a full-fledged blasphemy of epic proportions. Just how little she’d known about the people who’d embraced her as one of their own.
The moment she’d entered the building, the stench had been overwhelming, and she’d discovered why when she glimpsed inside the cages. Men, women and a small child were huddled within, their bodies covered in wounds that oozed blood and yellowish pus. All of them were filthy, hair matted with sweat, dirt and dried blood. When she’d finally torn her eyes away from the silver bars lined with tortured faces, she’d learned the horror didn’t stop there.
In the center of the room had been a wooden table with silver cuffs on each corner and a multitude of matching chains. The oak was stained black in places, the surface smoother where bodies had writhed in misery and unintentionally sanded the wood.
“They must repent of their sin and reject the beast before they can cross into heaven with their soul intact,” Elijah had said as she gawked at the atrocity in horror. “For this purpose, we attempt to expel the demon within.”
“The demon?” she’d whispered, mortified.
“Lucifer’s beasts reside within each and every one of them.”
The cage closest to her had held the single child in the group, who was no more than eight or nine years old. His face had been dirty and the wounds along his arms and chest had been fresh, but his eyes had been alert as he studied her silently. Pools of the most radiant topaz she’d ever seen—pure, untarnished liquid gold—stared back at her, silently pleading for help.
In that moment, she’d known she was no better than her relatives if she turned a blind eye to something like this. As she’d walked from the building with her disgusting and reprehensive “family,” she’d begun to formulate a plan.
Just two years before, on her eighteenth birthday, she’d been given her parents’ assets. It was more than enough for a fresh start somewhere. More importantly, she could finally discover what waited for her inside the safety deposit box in Florida—an odd location considering her mother and father had never taken her there. Her parents’ attorney refused to give her the key unless it was in person, and had specified that her mother and father had instructed that she had to open it before the age of twenty-one and keep the existence of it secret.
Considering her kin doubled as the Manson family, she wasn’t sure if it was bound to be a good or bad surprise. Either way, it was better than sticking around.
It had taken two weeks to work out her uncle’s schedule and by that time she’d known when her aunt was going to the grocery store, how long her cousin Jonah would be out in the field, and could count the minutes it would take to cover a significant amount of distance. Timing was everything, and as the number of people in cages had dwindled from seven to five, there had been little to spare.
Stealing the keys to her uncle’s shop was the easy part; standing before the cages afterward, eyes wide and hands shaking, wasn’t. She’d wondered if the ravaged and violated men and women would kill her on principle. Perhaps they did have a demon inside of them that would demand blood payment for their suffering.
As it turned out, they hadn’t harmed her at all.
Instead they’d forced her into one of the cages that reeked of feces and urine and locked her inside, deaf to her pleas to take her with them or set her free. Only the child had turned as she begged for mercy, showing fear for the first time. He’d reached for her hand and clasped her fingers in his thin hands before he was swept into the arms of a woman who carried him from sight as Mary struggled against the bars.
That was how her uncle found her—locked in a cage with the keys tossed in the dirt, the polished set flashing brightly in the setting sun just five feet away.
The beating she’d received after he pulled her from the cage had been the most severe—the one in which Elijah introduced her to the cane. “Spare the rod and spoil the child,” he repeated as he gave her a lash for each shifter he’d lost, as well as an additional five for her betrayal. Ten lashes total, the thick, winding scars of which now adorned the skin on her back.
It wasn’t difficult to feign fear or deference after that. A solid slap to the face courtesy of her aunt or a leering taunt from her cousin weren’t shit on the grander scale. The few friends she’d made at college were told she was recovering from mono and wouldn’t return for the rest of the semester when they called to speak to her. That meant no one would look for her, and no one would miss her if she suddenly vanished without a trace. Everything she did now was about survival. Surrounded by the lunacy as she was, there was only one way to ensure it.
She had to pretend, build trust and show them she’d seen the error of her ways. That meant staying quiet, keeping her nose clean and feigning absolution. It wasn’t always easy but as the good book said, good things come to those who wait.
“Again, Mary,” John said, going to his knees and starting a new passage, another she knew now by heart. “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want; He makes me lie down in green pastures…”
Dutifully she chanted along, damning the god who’d placed her in his predicament, taken her parents from her and shown her just how vile and warped the world could be. As soon as she was given the opportunity she planned to run as far and as fast away from the sick, demented fucks as she could.
And there was only one thing she knew with utmost certainty.
She had no intention of ever looking back.
Chapter Twelve
Seated smack-dab in the center of wolf shifters and Ava had never felt so powerful. She knew she should have been terrified or nervous about the attention centered in her direction, but oddly enough she wasn’t. Ever since she’d left the office she’d amassed a wealth of knowledge about Diskant, his race and their connection.
His mate.
A shiver traveled down her spine as she acknowledged the fact, accepted it and comprehended the implications of such a thing. This wasn’t just a quick romp in the sheets or a casual fling that would go away. This was exactly as he’d told her it would be, a connection that would last the span of their lifetimes. As scary as the notion was, it was equally exciting, humbling and staggering. Since she could feel the complexities of his feelings, she was able to experience the full magnitude o
f his commitment and devotion—all-encompassing, frightening and unwavering in its intensity.
Never had a man felt as Diskant did for her, as if she was as essential to his being as breathing. He would do whatever it took to secure her happiness, even if it meant his own was sacrificed as a consequence.
In addition to that, as an Omega, Diskant was extremely important to all shifters. In claiming her as his, she had gained equal status. From the moment they’d emerged from the office, walking side by side, hand in hand, she’d been able to perceive the thoughts and curiosity of those around them. Everyone had wanted a glimpse of her, including the few females who remained at the other side of the bar.
Various cadences and dialects had echoed inside her head, both male and female. Diskant had mated, but unlike many in the pack feared he might, it wasn’t to a different breed of shifter but a human. She had braced for their anger but was shocked when she perceived their relief and ready acceptance.
It could be worse, thought one.
Thank fucking god, thought another.
Filtering through the voices, she’d deftly slid the pieces together. If Diskant mated a different breed of shifter his allegiance to the wolves would be compromised. Now, his loyalty and dedication to the pack was assured. They would protect her with their lives and, in turn, Diskant would see that the pack continued to thrive…
Even if it means he’s mated to a weak, human female who will give him half-breeds.
The stray thought had pissed her off and she’d lifted her head, frustrated when strange faces greeted her and she was unable to locate the source. When the combination of thoughts had become too disorienting and difficult to decipher, she’d erected a temporary wall to block them out, focusing instead on the reassuring vibes Diskant was somehow able to send. It wasn’t until they’d taken a seat at the table that she slowly let the barrier down.
Fascinated would be one way to describe how she felt as she listened to the thoughts of the intimidating shifters surrounding her—terrified would be another. With the exception of the green-eyed one seated in the center, the shifters were totally unlike Diskant and didn’t have an ounce of affection or softness within them. Instead she felt a lust for violence and retribution.
