by SJ Himes
“Change, so that we can speak. There are too many greater alphas about that may overhear our thoughts,” Andromeda advised, and Ghost nodded his head once before initiating the Change. Power swept over him in a rush of silver-white, and he stood tall as a man. Andromeda smiled at him, while River’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “You make it effortless and pure. It’s a pleasure to see such a feat of magic again after all these years.”
Ghost scrunched his face up in confusion, but ignored her statement in favor of figuring out what was going on. “Why won’t they leave me alone? What was Michael doing to me? He would touch me and my powers would stop. I didn’t like it at all.”
“The lot of them have trouble believing that their ways aren’t always best. The horrible flaw in living forever is that our kind develop bad habits that time convinces us are prudent.” Andromeda gave him a small smile when he tilted his head, confused. River exhaled loudly, getting Ghost’s attention.
“What do you remember from growing up with Gray Shadow, Ghost?” River asked him with a small half smile just like his sister’s. This was Ghost’s first time seeing River since the battle with Roman’s wolves. He figured River was trying to handle his own personal feelings of betrayal, since it was his niece who helped Roman kidnap, kill and enslave members of their people. Ghost focused on River’s question, and looked down, thinking back.
“I remember sitting in on Michael’s lessons with Grandpa Shadow,” Ghost answered, memories coming slowly to the surface. His time with his wolfkin family was hard to recall. His clearest memories were of the days he spent with Gray Shadow and Michael. “I remember the tales of our people as he taught them to Michael. I remember Grandpa Shadow teaching Michael how to use his powers, and some days were spent with the two of them meditating for hours. There’s bits and pieces I can see in flashes, and sometimes I recall things when I’m dreaming. Mostly Grandpa Shadow talking to me.”
“You said you remember Gray Shadow teaching Michael,” River said, and Ghost nodded. “Tell me what you remember, exactly.”
“Why?” Ghost demanded, then flushed at his own tone. “I’m sorry, that was rude.” He might have trouble knowing when he was being rude most of the time, but one thing he did know what that getting upset at a shaman was not acceptable. Though Michael and his friends deserved his anger. River might be reserved and somehow aggrieved by Ghost, but that didn’t mean he was deserving of Ghost’s anger when it was caused by someone else.
“It’s okay. Just tell me what you remember, it’ll be clear why I’m asking in a minute,” River encouraged, and Ghost frowned, but did as River asked.
“Grandpa Shadow spent a whole day once making shadow wolves, Michael would reach out and touch them, and they would disappear.” Illusions, his mind supplied now. His grandfather would create illusions, one of his greatest abilities, then Michael would reach out and do…something. The shadow wolves disappeared.
“Michael has a singular talent,” Andromeda said to him, but she paused and looked to River for a moment, clearly thinking carefully about she was about to say. “Michael can cancel out another wolfkin’s gifts. It’s a very rare talent, an ability seen only a handful of times in our history as a people. He can heal to some degree, and has a kind, patient nature that makes him well-suited for the life of a shaman. He went to Gray Shadow specifically as an apprentice because of this talent.”
“How does he do it?” Ghost asked, afraid now to let his old friend anywhere near him, at least in touching distance. Ghost was not a big man nor a large wolf; his abilities were all he had to give him an edge against most of his brethren. If Michael could render his gifts useless, then Ghost was left defenseless.
“It’s an extension of a shaman’s immunity to an alpha’s influence. Where most shamans are immune to the influence of an alpha in a passive manner, Michael can actively control his immunity, and can focus it against any wolfkin, be they shaman, alpha, or beta. Gray Shadow taught him how to use his ability, since Michael had no active control over it and was using it accidentally on people he came in physical contact with. It’s limited to touch only, so he cannot diminish your gifts from any sort of distance,” River explained. Ghost nodded, understanding. He learned early on what it meant for a shaman to be immune to the charm of an alpha and the Voice—Gray Shadow made it his most frequent teaching lesson to the cubs of Black Pine. Which now made sense, since both the Clan Leader and his Heir had the Voice, though to varying degrees.
“So, no touching. He can’t control me if he doesn’t touch me.”
“It’s not control, Ghost. He can’t stop you from using your powers unless he touches you. If he doesn’t touch you, then his gift is useless.” Ghost nodded to Andromeda, thinking he would have to forego hugs from Michael for the immediate future. Though after what just happened, the ambush in the front yard and Kane’s incarceration, Ghost wasn’t feeling very charitable towards Michael and the other shamans.
“I’ll talk to the shamans. Worst outcome is you’ll have a babysitter for the next few days,” River murmured, and Ghost tried to find some reassurance in his promise. “The last few hours have cast our people in a bad light. I’d ask how your homecoming has been, but I’m afraid your answer won’t be pleasant.”
Ghost grumbled, and Andromeda chuckled. River rubbed his shoulder with a warm hand, then slipped past them into the house. Ghost grumbled to himself, muttering about idiot alphas and willful blindness.
“The Tribunal convenes in two days,” Andromeda said suddenly, interrupting his angry mutters. “Two days of waiting before we can free Kane and be done with this farce. Until then, mind yourself as best you can, don’t give anyone any reason to doubt you’re in your right mind.”
“I’ll try,” Ghost said after a moment’s thought. “What if Kane and I were to leave? Just run away and never come back?”
Andromeda tipped her chin, her glacier-blue eyes catching the winter light and seeming to glow. “Running away is an option. Many before you have taken that route. And many have died for that choice, alone and vulnerable, without pack or clan to stand with them, to keep them safe. I won’t tell you not to take that option, but right now, it’s not the best one. Save it for the bitter end, if reason and logic cannot clear the foolishness from the hearts and minds of others.”
Ghost gave her a nod, for he could see her reasoning. He was aware he was more handicapped than the average wolfkin, as his years as a mere wolf left him uneducated in the ways of mankind and their laws. Growing up with Cat and Glen helped, but he hadn’t lived as a man, learning as a man. Some things were beyond him right now. Kane could survive in the human world, he knew how to live amongst them, but Ghost refused to depend upon Kane’s skill for the rest of his life. He needed to learn to live as a man on his own, eventually.
And he knew, in the deepest part of his heart, that Kane wouldn’t run. Not unless there was no other option. Kane was built to be a protector, a leader of their people, and he would never abandon them, even as they turned their backs on him.
A part of him yearned for the simplicity of those years he spent as naught but a spoiled wolf in a sanctuary buried in the northern wilds.
“Go for a run,” Andromeda gave him a slight nudge with her slim hand, lifting a teasing brow. “Clear your head, find your calm, and come back ready to defend yourself and your mate.”
He wasted no time. Quicker than thought, his human body was swallowed by the silver-white storm of magic that answered to his will. He shook out his coat, and leapt from the patio into the snow. He felt the clan leader’s regard on his back until he slipped amongst the slumbering black pines, hiding him from view.
“Stay away from Kane!” Her warning was the only thing that made him turn from the temptation of his mate. Ghost pointed his nose down the mountainside, disappearing into the wild forest.
He would spend the night hunting, thinking of the best course of action. Ev
eryone was pulling at him, telling him to do this or that, and his mind was ready to fracture. He needed Kane—the bond between them when fully open steadied Ghost, gave his awakening mind as a thinking man something solid upon which to function.
If he lost Kane…Ghost would be lost, too. Perhaps some measure of his blood father survived in him after all, for he could not see himself remaining in civilization if he lost his soulbonded mate. He would return to the wilds, his human side forever gone.
Andromeda kept one eye on Julian, the other on Heromindes. Neither of the clan leaders were anyone she would call friend or family—Hero tended to ignore females unless they were useful to him, and Julian was a mad dog. If not for his too convenient ties to the human government of this country, she would have slipped south one summer night and killed the fool. Her dislike of him was well-known, if he were to die mysteriously, it was likely she would draw immediate suspicion. She didn’t feel like having a clan blood feud, so he lived. For now.
“Where’s the pup? The crazy one?” Julian asked, sneering at the leather and white maple furniture that decorated her study. She gladly gave it over to Caius as was his due as clan leader, she rarely spent time in here but for paying bills for the park’s expenses, but she made an effort to use and have the best items in her home. It’s where her family lived, after all, and money was nothing in the grand scheme of things, yet Julian sniffed in disdain as if she had garbage lying about. For a wolf who lived in a glass and steel tower in Manhattan, his opinion was warped. Andromeda lifted a brow when Julian picked a random book of a shelf and then tossed it to a chair with a negligent flick of his wrist, wiping his hand on the chair fabric as if the knowledge in the book burned his skin.
“My grandson is none of your business, Julian.” Caius said, leaning back in the chair behind the desk.
“Well, that’s not true, is it? The whelp getting stuck by your heir is exactly why we’re here. Who gives a fuck if Kane embarrassed Hero? Hero embarrasses himself just getting out of bed in the morning,” Julian said. Hero growled from where he stood next to the window.
“Do not provoke violence in my home,” Andromeda snapped, and Hero’s growls went quiet. Julian dropped his smirk, eyes wary as Andromeda narrowed her own back at both alphas. “There are cubs in this house. Mind yourselves.”
“Sorry, Ana,” Heromindes said, his anger receding. His temper was frayed, and Julian plucked at the strings of his humiliation with every sidelong glance and sharp comment. Julian said nothing, merely shrugged and sat in the chair, picking up the book he tossed aside earlier and flipping through the pages.
“My grandson is fine,” Caius said. “The matter we’re back here to discuss is about what to do with the human doctor.”
“I don’t care what you do with him. None of my wolves are missing,” Julian said. Royrick snorted from where he was standing in the back corner of the room by the door. Julian sent Royrick a nasty glare, continuing to flip through the book. “Unlike those in this room, I haven’t lost any of my wolves to human corruption and weak bloodlines. Seriously, Caius? Your own son is a traitor and it goes unnoticed for decades?”
“I accept the blindness that let this atrocity continue on for so long,” Caius admitted, expression a blank mask, but for the deep glimmer in his eyes. “I will bear the fault to the day I die and Roman will have his moment before the Tribunal.”
“I say Simon Remus and the human doctor are your problem, not mine,” Julian crossed one leg of the other, and leaned back, matching Caius in posture. “Keep the mess behind your own borders.”
“Hero? Your wolves were the last affected by Remus and Roman. Any thoughts?” Caius asked.
Hero shrugged, and Andromeda sighed. This one was too concerned with his pride and injured reputation. Hero would have fared far better if he had kept the incident with Kane to himself—bandying it about did nothing but embarrass him further, and it blinded him to more important things, like stopping the murder and experimentation of their people. Every time it came up, all it did was further drive a spike of discomfort into the Ashland clan leader. He certainly cared about his kin—his own cousin and his family was still torn asunder, half of them missing—but he was fixated on revenge against Kane.
“Hero—will you leave this to Caius to settle, or do you want to participate? This isn’t a hard question, laddie.” Mercuriel finally spoke up, looking away from the window where he peered out over the valley. “Step up or step aside.”
“Fine! If the doctor can reveal where my people are, tell me. We are still searching in my clan territory. Once this Tribunal is over, we can see what to do with Remus.” Hero all but spat his words out.
“What did Remus want with them, anyway? Did he really sell your cousins to sex slavers?” Julian asked with casual cruelty, and Hero’s golden skin bleached white with rage.
“There is talk of experimentation. Remus wanted to give humans alpha and shamanic powers,” Caius said, careful to avoid mention of the horrible conditions in which Kane found Gabriel Suarez and his family.
“Did they manage it?” Julian asked. “I went down to see Roman earlier. Looks wretched. Doesn’t look like he managed to feed himself, let alone mastermind a grand scheme twenty years in the making. And he smelled like he’s been fucking a human.”
“Julian!” Royrick snapped. The red haired clan leader flashed a nasty grin, but he stopped. Caius was stone cold and pale, his eyes locked on Julian like he wanted to rip him to pieces. Andromeda moved just enough to draw her old friend’s eyes to her, and it broke his predatory tunnel vision enough for him to find his equilibrium.
“No, I don’t think they have. The human has been remarkably close-lipped about everything,” Caius answered, no sign of his rage present in his words. He ignored Julian’s ruder statements and focused on his question. “Roman has not been forthcoming, either.”
Andromeda did not like the gleam in Julian’s eyes. That one was too human-like for her comfort—the madness humans carried in their souls sometimes could be found in the wolfkin, rotting them from within. Julian was mad, but he held a leash upon it, and had yet to step too far over bounds.
“I sent out a request for aide in this matter,” Royrick spoke up, thankfully changing the subject. “The wolf we need will be here soon.”
“Is his gift strong?” Heromindes demanded, and Royrick gave the impatient clan leader a wide grin.
“Strong as Caius’ wayward heir, if not stronger,” Royrick said, and that seemed to satisfy Heromindes.
“Well, this is boring,” Julian said, standing, straightening out his suit cuffs, and heaving an exaggerated sigh. “I’m going to bed. This Tribunal business is going to be so very fun, I can tell.”
The Birch Grove clan leader left without another word, not bothering to shut the door as he departed. Andromeda went to close it, and she got a glimpse of Julian as he walked to the front door, scrolling through his smartphone as if he were without a care in the world. His guards fell in behind him, and the tension dropped in the cabin when they left.
Andromeda closed the study door, glad the unstable clan leader was gone. He would be trouble, she knew it, a heavy weight in her gut that spoke of something bad to come.
“That one is broken inside, I tell you,” Mercuriel rumbled, and Royrick nodded in agreement.
“So, lassie, anymore cubs since I saw you last?” Mercuriel smiled at her, red on his cheeks, his eyes bright. She gave him a crooked smile, shaking her head.
“None since the last time you asked me, Mercuriel. Though plenty of my daughters have had several in the last few years.”
“They all take after their matriarch, I can tell. Lovely and delicate creatures, pretty as the day is long,” he flirted. Andromeda chuckled.
“I’m not looking for a mate, so save your flattery for another beta, old wolf,” she chided, and Caius and Royrick both made sounds of amusement. Mercuriel ignore
d them of course—he had been after her for a few hundred years. By this point, it was merely a game to them both. “And if one of my daughters falls for your honeyed words, I wish you all the luck in the world. Most of my cubs came out exactly like me.”
She needed a mate like she needed her head chopped off. Hard to keep her secrets if she had a mate bond with which to contend.
The bars were cold. He shivered, his body desperately trying to keep him warm. He didn’t care—he wanted to die. Maybe then the nightmare would be over and he could finally rest.
A familiar sound woke him from a light doze. He pried one eye open. Not far from his cage a man stood, back to him.
Simon Remus lifted his ringing phone to his ear. “Hello?”
He couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but the way Remus straightened up, shoulders back, and his whole body shivered, told him that whoever it was, he or she was someone Remus was afraid of. Remus acted tough, yet he went nowhere without his guards.
“How do I know you are who you claim to be?” Remus demanded. “This could be a trap for all I know.”
Remus turned just enough he could see his face in profile. His jaw was tight, his fingers clenched tight around the phone, the case creaking. “Roman is imprisoned? On trial?”
Remus stiffened, a drop of sweat beading on his temple despite the chill air. “That’s a lie. I never slept with…no. I don’t know how you know that.” Remus hung up, eyeing his phone with something close to terror and horrified fascination.
It rang again. Four times before Remus put it back to his ear, shaking. He said nothing, but the person on the other side must have known he was there. After a minute, he swallowed roughly, voice dropping to a whisper. “You said we’d met before. Where?”
A pause, then Remus dragged in a ragged breath. “In Manhattan. Yes, sir, I remember you now. I did not know you were one of them.”
