The black wolf swerved, hackles raised and ears flattened outward, growling threateningly at him with her lips peeled back, showing teeth and gums. Not good.
“It’s okay,” said Dante in a gentling tone. He knew that the wolf wouldn’t understand the words, but his hope was that she would find his tone soothing. What she needed now was to calm down and pull back so that Jaime could resurface. So far it didn’t seem as though there was a chance of that happening as her eyes darted from person to person, curling her upper lip at them.
He knew what the wolf was feeling: rage, pain, fear, confusion, and a belief that danger was all around. Everything she saw and heard she was interpreting as a threat. Even him. Shit if that didn’t hurt. Remembering the time that Jaime approached the Doberman at the sanctuary, Dante crouched down to her wolf’s level of height so that he didn’t seem so intimidating. “It’s okay. It’s safe now.” She growled at him again, a chilling, menacing growl that said, “Mate or not, stay the fuck away.”
“Jaime, please fight this,” pleaded Gabe. The wolf snarled at him, despite recognizing him as family. Her frightened gaze darted between each of them, expecting one of them to attack her any second now.
Dante tapped the ground with his hand to get her attention. It worked. Again she growled at him. “Shh. It’s okay.” Another growl. “Come on, Jaime, fight her for me.” He could sense Jaime, sense her frustration and helplessness. But she wasn’t giving up as she once might have, believing she was succumbing to the inevitable. She was battling for freedom. Unfortunately, her wolf was too sure that they were still in danger for her to even entertain Jaime’s struggles as important.
“Dante,” said Ryan quietly. “I think she’s lost it.”
“No. She’s scared and she’s on the offensive, but she’s not feral.”
“But—”
“Dante’s right,” said Trey. “I know feral. That’s not feral.”
“Maybe we should all back up, give her some space, and make it clear we’re not here to hurt her,” suggested Taryn.
“Or maybe I should shift into my wolf form. I’m her Alpha. She’ll respond.”
“I don’t think she will, Trey.” Dante shook his head. “Right now, she doesn’t see her pack. She sees threats. She doesn’t even trust me near her or I’d shift and let my wolf try his luck with her—
God knows he’s eager to try. Jaime told me that whenever she shifted and another shifter was around, her wolf would attack them, believing that she was eliminating a threat before that supposed threat had the chance to harm her.”
Trey was quiet for a few moments, but when the black wolf growled again he sighed. “I’m going to try it.”
“Trey, I’m asking you not to—”
“Just trust me on this, Dante. I think it will work.”
Before Dante could again object, Trey was shifting into his wolf form. As Dante had expected, his mate immediately froze and released a loud, lengthy “stay the fuck back” growl. He felt as her level of fear spiked. Simultaneously, though, her anger also increased, and Dante knew right then that he’d been right. This would only make her mood worse.
The huge gray wolf advanced a step toward the black wolf, ignoring her cautioning growl.
Dante and the others flinched as dominant vibes poured from the gray wolf, aiming to direct and control the black wolf. Instead, her growl deepened in an unnatural way, and she took a challenging step forward. Quickly Dante situated himself between the two wolves. “No.” He picked up on his mate’s surprise. She interpreted his behavior as protective. Good. He wanted her to regard him as an ally, if nothing else. “Taryn, I need you to bring Trey back before the situation worsens.”
“Already on it,” she assured him.
Again Dante crouched down and patted the ground. “Come on.” The black wolf stiffened and growled at him once more. It occurred to him then that maybe his best option was to go to her, to move away from those she thought of as potential threats. “All of you stay exactly where you are. I’m going to move toward her.”
“Dante, that might not be wise,” said Ryan.
“Maybe not. But she’s my mate.” Nothing more needed to be said. Still crouching, he very slowly inched toward her at a sideways angle, just like he had seen Jaime do with the Doberman. As he’d expected, she growled, but it wasn’t as fierce and threatening as before. It was more “mind how you behave” than “I’ll kill you if you come any closer.” She wasn’t exactly welcoming him, but she was at least considering him as more of a potential ally than a potential threat.
With long pauses in between each step, Dante slowly moved toward the black wolf. She never moved her eyes from him, but he knew her senses were also attuned to those around her. Occasionally she growled, but they were still sounds that told him he was on thin ice and needed to tread carefully.
Optimism filled him and his wolf each time he got that little bit closer to her. Not that Dante was relaxed or sure of his safety. He doubted that she would kill him, but she’d certainly hurt him badly if she believed she needed to in order to protect herself and Jaime.
When he was only a few feet away from her, she stuck her head out at him and her nostrils flared. Then suddenly she was baring her teeth and growling loudly at him. Instantly he stilled, wondering at the abrupt change. It took a moment for it to occur to him. Not only was he covered in blood—not exactly a calming smell—but he had Laurie’s scent on him from when she’d thrown herself at him just moments before. Shit. From the wolf’s perspective, her mate had come to her with his skin smelling of another female.
“It’s okay,” he drawled soothingly. It didn’t work. Anger surged through her wolf. Anger, betrayal, and a sense of isolation now that she was again without allies. Jaime’s mood wasn’t much better. “You know I only want you.” The words were for Jaime. He sensed that she believed him, but this didn’t matter to her wolf. To her wolf it was a simple equation: he’d hurt Jaime, which meant he was a threat that she needed to be protected from.
His instincts—not to mention sheer common sense—told him that the best thing to do would be to back away from her. To give her some space and a chance to calm a little. But this was his mate, damn it, and he didn’t want her feeling like this. Although Trey’s wolf had a tendency to turn feral during battles, Taryn was always able to bring him back from that state. It stung that Dante couldn’t do the same here.
Desperate, frustrated, and exasperated, Dante moved toward her again. “I’m not going to hurt you, I—” He stopped as a cold, unnerving growl emitted from the black wolf as she bowed down, sticking her rear in the air, preparing to pounce on him. “No, st—” Ignoring him, she sprang.
Dante braced himself, ready to bear the impact and do his best to restrain her before she did much damage. Midleap, her body jerked and a loud whine thick with pain filled the air. He caught her as she fell on him. Rather than attempting to claw at him, she tried only to rise and escape. He locked his arms tight around the wolf, but she didn’t put up much of a fight. A second later, he realized why —there was a fucking dart sticking out of her flank. Already the tranquilizer was working and she was close to limp in his arms.
Swerving his head to the direction that the dart had to have come from, Dante found a sight he wouldn’t have expected. There in the trees was Shaya, sobbing, with a tranquilizer gun in her hand.
“Shaya, what the fuck?”
“It’s not like I wanted to do it,” she cried as she cautiously approached. “She made me promise.”
“Huh?”
“Jaime came to me one night after she’d decided that she was going to challenge Glory. She was worried that when it happened she might have to shift. She said that there was a chance her wolf wouldn’t let her come back, and that if it looked as though she might attack someone I had to shoot her with one of these.”
Dante felt himself blanch. “Christ, Shaya, she could have been lying to you! It could have been fatal!”
She rolled her tear-f
illed eyes. “I’d already thought of that. I made her shoot me with one of them to prove they weren’t. When I looked out of the window and saw what was happening, I grabbed the gun and came down. And I brought this.” She opened a bag that he hadn’t even realized she was holding and handed him something he never would have guessed was in there.
“No way. No fucking way.”
“It wasn’t my idea. She made me promise to give it to you. She wanted to be sure that her wolf couldn’t bite you.”
“I am not putting a muzzle on my mate.” He continued stroking a hand down the short, coarse fur of her graceful neck.
“She said you’d say that. She also said to tell you that you can take it off again once you’ve put her in the cage.”
Dante shook his head, setting his jaw. “I’m not putting a muzzle on—Wait, what cage?”
“Well, she calls it a crate, but it’s a cage. Apparently, it’s from the sanctuary. The workers use them to transport any animals they rescue to the sanctuary”
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this.”
“But don’t you see that this is a good thing?”
He looked at her disbelievingly. “How could this possibly be a good thing?”
“It means she doesn’t intend to give up, she intends to fight her wolf. But she won’t have much luck with that until her wolf has calmed down a little. Jaime wanted you to have somewhere that you could put her while her wolf calmed.”
On one level, Dante could acknowledge that Shaya was right. Still, how was he supposed to put her through this? It seemed cruel. Her wolf wasn’t acting out of a wish to cause pain, she was frightened. She was traumatized enough, and he didn’t want to add to that.
Gabe stepped forward and lightly stroked her between her ears. She didn’t move at all.
“Dante, I don’t like this any more than you do. But it’s move her and confine her so that she has a chance to calm down, or risk her hurting someone or running off. Unless her wolf calms, Jaime will fade until eventually she’s gone, and her wolf will turn rogue.”
“He’s right,” said Trey, his voice uncharacteristically sensitive. “The tranquilizer will wear off soon. If we’re going to move her, it has to be now. I know you don’t want to do this, Dante, but you have to. Do it for Jaime. Give her an opportunity to come back from this.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
It had only taken an hour for the tranquilizer to wear off. Now—looking angrier than before—the black wolf paced in her crate, which was only twice as long and wide as her body. Several times she’d attacked it, looking for a weakness in the metal, and Dante had cringed every time her slender, graceful body smashed against it. Never had he felt more helpless or more like a bastard. For the past four years, her wolf had been caged, and now that she had finally surfaced again, she was back in a cage. And he’d been the one to put her in there.
She looked out at him with accusing, judgmental eyes. Guilt twisted his insides. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, although he knew she wouldn’t understand the words. Her response was a snarl that swore revenge. He heard as the door to the examination room opened behind him, but he only gave the visitor a sideways glance.
“Did she eat the meat?” asked Grace.
He shook his head. The wolf had snuffed at it.
“Does she recognize you?”
He was getting real sick of people speaking of his mate as though she was unbalanced. “Yes. I keep telling everyone—it’s not that she’s feral. She’s just scared and confused.”
“Sorry. It’s just that I heard she tried to attack you.”
“She smelled Laurie on me.”
“And why would she smell Laurie on you?” snapped Grace, giving him an accusatory look that was quite similar to the one his mate was wearing.
“See, now, if you’re reacting that way and I’m not your mate, is it any wonder that she wanted to draw blood?”
“I guess not. But you didn’t answer my question.”
He sighed. “Laurie threw herself at me when I was trying to get to Jaime’s wolf. She was afraid because of the duel between Jaime’s and Glory’s wolves, and she didn’t know what to do.” His wolf snarled at the memory.
“Afraid? Really?”
In response to the skepticism in her voice, he arched a brow questioningly.
“You don’t think that she did it on purpose?”
“Why would she?”
She gave him an impatient look. “Dante, honey, for a very observant person you have such a blind spot. The woman is jealous. I don’t know whether it’s because she’s still slightly possessive of you because you were once mated—”
“Partially mated.”
“—or whether it’s something else, but it wouldn’t surprise me if she did it on purpose so that there was no way Jaime would let you near her.”
“But she stayed with Jaime to fight when she could have just gone back to the caves with the rest of you.”
Grace shrugged. “I didn’t say I had all the answers. I just know the woman is jealous and doesn’t want you with Jaime. Did you know she came to your room just before the mating ceremony?
She wanted to see you alone. Dominic chased her off, and then Hope did her best to keep her away from you.”
He hadn’t known that, but at the moment he didn’t care to try to understand it. “Grace, I really can’t think of all this right now. All I care about is Jaime and making sure that she comes back.”
“Can you sense her?”
“Yes. She’s tired and irritated. Her wolf isn’t being very receptive to her right now.”
“She still feels unsafe. Unless that changes, she won’t pay much attention to what Jaime thinks or feels.”
He nodded. “I know. I’ve kept the number of visitors to a minimum. I figure the fewer people and scents around her, the better. It might help if she doesn’t think strange shifters are going to be hanging around what’s now effectively her den.” Only Taryn, Shaya, and Gabe had been inside the room. None of them had received a welcoming greeting from the black wolf. “I tried giving her one of my T-shirts that Jaime wears to bed, thinking she might find it comforting the way Jaime does. She ripped it to shreds.” Hearing Grace’s heavy sigh, he looked at her curiously. “What?”
“It’s just that seeing her like this…it reminds me of…”
“Louisa,” he easily supplied, since he’d been thinking the same thing. “Jaime won’t turn rogue.” It was an adamant statement, but he wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince more—himself or Grace.
“I hope not, honey. I really hope not.”
Dante spent the rest of the day simply talking to the black wolf. Most of the words were for Jaime, but the gentling tone was for the wolf. She didn’t calm as he’d hoped. When she wasn’t pacing or attacking her cage, she was huddled in a ball growling at anyone who came even remotely close to the crate—him included. So far he could only get three feet from the cage without the wolf growling and baring her teeth. Two feet, he promised himself before he went to sleep that night on the chair in the examination room. I’ll make it to two feet away tomorrow.
But he didn’t. The wolf’s state was worse in the morning rather than better, though she did actually eat the food Grace brought for her. Again he spent his day with her, talking to her, remaining at her side in a gesture that said he was there for her, only her. The fact was that he had no idea how to win her wolf’s trust. Trust was something that had to be earned, but how did he earn it in such a short time without being in a situation where he was tested? He had no freaking idea.
The only plan he had been able to come up with was to become a permanent fixture in that room, and one that was never once threatening or frightening. He ate his meals in there, he showered in the en-suite bathroom when he needed to, and he slept in either the chair or the bed. He also ensured that he was the one who fed her and cleaned her cage—though she had to be tranquilized each time they needed to clean it. He would see to her every need, would make
the wolf see that he could and would care for her.
Day three was also a bad day. The wolf jumped at every noise, every voice, every unexpected movement. It broke his heart to see her so frightened and anxious. He understood then why Jaime had been so compelled to sit with that little dog, Ben, in the sanctuary—that was all Dante wanted to do right now. Just sit with her and hold her, pet her, and comfort her. The problem was that each time he went near the crate, she attacked it. Answering his wolf’s desperate need to have contact with his mate, he had shifted forms. That hadn’t worked well. Her wolf had recognized him as her mate, but she didn’t associate him with safety or security, so she hadn’t wanted him close.
Days four, five, and six went pretty much the same way. Thankfully, Ivy and Riley had provided more tranquilizers so that he could keep knocking the wolf out whenever he needed to clean her cage. Both women had also asked to help care for her while she was in this state, claiming that they were experienced with traumatized animals. While that was true, he refused their offer. He wanted few scents in that room, and he wanted to be the one to heal her. He should be the one to heal her.
Day seven had been a truly bad day. She’d attacked the cage so hard that she’d cut open her paws. After giving her another tranquilizer shot, he and Grace had seen to the injuries. As soon as the wolf was aware and alert again, she’d torn off the bandages with her teeth and attacked the crate even harder than before. Still, Dante stuck to his plan of remaining with her and being the one who saw to all her needs. The problem was that whereas before she had more or less tolerated his presence, she was now angered by it rather than comforted.
The days began to blend and blur until, before he knew it, it had been another seven days and Jaime’s wolf was showing no signs of retreating. Agitated would be a mild word to describe how Dante was feeling. Occasionally he had snapped or shouted at the wolf, frustrated that none of his efforts were making her even slightly associate him with safety. Each time he snapped, her wolf would practically jump out of her skin and cower. And didn’t that make him feeling like a cruel son of a bitch.
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