by J. L. Wilder
“I can’t believe you,” she said quietly. “I can’t believe you would confront me like this. In front of Owen.”
“Owen ought to know about it anyway,” Percy said. “He’s the father, isn’t he? I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I thought you were too smart to let anything happen. But I gave you too much credit. I thought you had the sense to put the pack ahead of some stupid crush.”
“Everything I’ve done has been for the pack,” Fiona said. Her voice trembled. “I went alone into a den of bears to protect this pack. I brought them back here to protect this pack.”
“You didn’t even let us voice opinions about that. We didn’t want them here. We’ve never wanted them here.”
“My whole life has been about trying to take care of our pack,” Fiona continued. “When I fought Tank, I could have been killed. But I did it because it was what was right for the pack.”
Percy shook his head slowly. “I’m not sure we weren’t better off under Tank.”
Fiona froze. “You don’t mean that.
“Fiona, you had an affair with the alpha of a bear pack. You’re pregnant with his child.”
Somebody gasped.
It took Owen several seconds to understand that the gasp hadn’t come from any of the three of them. He turned, looking for the source.
Riley stood only a few feet behind him. She must have heard what Percy had said. Her eyes were wide, and she looked horrified.
“Riley,” Owen said.
But she ran inside, ran before he could order her not to tell. Owen’s stomach dropped. It was all going to come out now.
Percy looked unabashed. “They should know,” he said mulishly. “Everyone should know. You two may be our alphas, but we all have rights. If we’re being led into danger, if we’re going to die in this fight because you can’t keep your hands to yourselves and your focus where it should be, we have a right to know.”
Owen wasn’t listening anymore. He strode up the porch steps and into the house, determined to find Riley and to control the spread of the story as much as he possibly could.
His head was spinning. Fiona’s pregnant. He knew the baby had to be his. That gave rise to so many questions, questions he couldn’t hope to answer on his own without talking to her.
Suddenly, the matter of how she felt about him seemed much more relevant.
He stepped into the living room where had been sleeping and stopped short.
The entire pack was assembled in there. Riley had worked fast.
They were all looking at him now, expressions of shock and betrayal on every face.
Chapter Fourteen
Fiona stayed out on the porch, unable to face anyone. Percy had disappeared into the house, his disgust with her etched plainly on his face. After a few minutes, Wes appeared with two cans of soda. He sat down beside her and handed one of them to her.
She gave him a grateful look, popped the can open, and drank deeply.
“The bears are packing,” Wes said.
Fiona nodded. She supposed she couldn’t be surprised that they’d chosen to leave. She had always known that she would risk losing them if the truth of her relationship with Owen came out.
“Is it true?” Wes asked. “What Percy’s saying?”
There was no point in trying to hide it anymore. “Yeah.”
“You’re pregnant? And it’s his?”
She nodded.
He said nothing, merely nodded in response, and Fiona felt deeply grateful. He couldn’t have been impressed with what she had done, and she imagined he had plenty to say about it. But it looked as if, for the moment, he was going to hold back.
It was more kindness than she deserved. How could I have let this happen? She should have resisted Owen from the start. She should never have let things go as far as they had.
And yet...even now, in the midst of this crisis, she couldn’t quite bring herself to regret it. The pain she felt now, she realized, was at the idea that he was going away and she wasn’t going to see him anymore. Their child—but no. She wasn’t ready to think about that part of the equation. Not just yet.
The door opened. Single file, the bears walked from the house out onto the porch, down the steps, and into the yard. Owen was the last one out the door. Fiona couldn’t bring herself to look at him.
“I’m going to ride north with them,” he said.
She nodded. “I figured you would.”
“I have to see them safely home.”
“It’s your responsibility.” Something inside her cried out at the wrongness of the situation—he has other responsibilities now—but she couldn’t put words to her objection. She couldn’t bring herself to say it aloud. If he refuted it, she would die.
“I’ll come back, Fiona,” he said. “As soon as they’re safe at home, I’ll come back.”
“Don’t do me any favors.”
“No, we need to talk about this. Together.”
“I’m not sure she wants you here, man,” Wes said.
“We have to at least have a conversation,” Owen pressed. “Then we can make a decision. If you tell me to turn around and go, Fiona, I will. But we have to talk.”
“They’re really leaving?” she asked dully.
Owen sighed. “I can’t make them fight against their will,” he said. “I can’t order them into a battle where they could get hurt or killed. That would be wrong. It’s against what I stand for as an alpha. And right now they think the best thing for our pack is to get as far away from yours as possible.”
“You’re supposed to be strong,” she said, looking up at him, feeling a hot stab of anger. “You’re the alpha. And you’re letting yourself be manipulated by what your pack wants. You’re supposed to be the one to decide. Don’t shift the blame to them.”
He shook his head. “A good alpha takes his pack’s feelings into account,” he said quietly. “You know that as well as I do, Fiona.”
“Go, then,” she said. “And don’t bother coming back.”
He looked agonized. “You don’t mean that.”
“Sure I do,” she said. “Who knows if we’ll even be here? The Fangs are probably going to run us out of town, and that’s if they don’t attack us and kill us.”
“I’ll fight with you.”
“You belong with your pack,” she said. “I belong with mine. And they’ve made it clear that they can never mix. You chose your side, Owen. You chose them. I don’t even blame you. I wouldn’t leave my pack behind to go with you.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to,” he said quietly.
“So this is goodbye, then.”
“I guess it is.”
A part of her couldn’t believe he was just giving up. The baby she was carrying was his too. Didn’t he care about that at all? Didn’t he want to do his duty to her, to their child? Didn’t he feel anything for them?
Apparently he didn’t. He gave her one last lingering look, as though he was assessing something, and then turned and walked toward the garage.
Wes nudged her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
She shrugged. “It is what it is.”
“I kind of thought he’d fight you on that.”
“Did you really?” She turned her gaze on him. “I thought you hated all bears.”
“Well, I don’t know.” He looked uncomfortable. “It’s different when you know them as people.”
That was true. But did she know Owen as a person? She’d thought she did. During those stolen moments in the forest, in his arms, heat building between them, she had felt more in tune with him than she’d ever felt with any other person. But she had never expected that after all the time they had spent together, he would leave her like this. She had never seen him as the kind of person to be driven away from someone by a surprise pregnancy.
The pack must have forced his hand. It was the only thing that made sense. If they declared that they wouldn’t fight, he would have had to get them out or risk seeing them killed by the Feral Fangs.
She did respect his decision not to force them to fight. It was the same way she felt herself, although Percy might have guessed otherwise. It was unfair, cruel, for an alpha to compel his or her packmates into a conflict that could cost lives.
She wouldn’t have forced her pack to fight either, if they’d stood up to her about it.
Maybe she was being too hard on him. She got to her feet, thinking to go after him and tell him she hadn’t meant what she said, that she did want him to come back once he’d seen his pack safely home. I’m probably just being hormonal, she thought wryly.
Before she could make it to the garage, however, she was distracted by the roar of an engine.
It was too far away to be the Grizzlies’ bikes in the garage, and it didn’t sound like a motorcycle anyway. What the hell? She took off at a jog down the path that led to the highway. It was rare for anyone to come this way.
A moment later, Owen fell in beside her. “I don’t suppose you know who that is?” he asked.
“No idea. But I think it’s getting closer,” she said.
Owen held up a hand, listened for a minute, then grabbed her by the arm and pulled her off the road and behind a tree. He pressed her up against it so that the bark scraped her back, and Fiona was forcibly reminded of all the other times Owen had held her against a tree like this.
“Owen,” she protested, squirming, struggling to break free.
“Shh.” He covered her mouth gently. That brought back memories too.
The engine grew closer...closer...and then, suddenly and shockingly, a green pickup truck rumbled through the forest just a few feet away from them. Fiona felt her eyes grow wide as she listened to the truck pass. Her eyes stayed on Owen’s face, watching as he tracked the movement of the vehicle.
“It’s heading toward the house,” he breathed.
Fiona was out of his arms and sprinting back home without knowing exactly how she had done it. She was panicked, desperate, and she knew she would never get there in time. It’s the Fangs, she thought. It has to be. No one else would come out here. They found us, and they’re ready to fight.
She had never wanted this. She had always planned on having the initiative, being the one to bring the fight to them. Having that small measure of control.
And now the Grizzlies were leaving. They would refuse to fight. Would the Fangs allow them to walk away? Or would they attack the bears too, forcing them to defend themselves?
How many will be lost today?
She heard the first scream just as the house came into view.
Owen sprinted past her. She had never seen him run hard like this, and she was amazed at his speed. The trees gave way to the backyard, and Fiona saw members of her own pack streaming out the front door, racing across the porch and onto the grass.
The fight is starting.
But was the fight starting? The truck was turning in the yard, reversing direction, heading back the way it had come. Fiona skidded to a stop as it passed her. She was able to get a look at the patch emblazoned on the shoulder of the driver. It was the Feral Fangs, all right.
And the face in the passenger seat was familiar.
Why were they leaving?
She looked back at her own pack. They were standing in a semicircle, backs to her, and beyond them she could see the Grizzlies in a tighter circle, as if they were standing around something.
She caught up to her own pack and turned to Percy. “What’s going on?” she asked.
When he spoke, he sounded sickened. “They just dumped the body and drove off,” he said quietly. “They didn’t even stop to say anything. They didn’t tell us to get out of town, or ask us to join with them, or...or anything. I don’t know if it was a threat of some kind, or if they’re trying to provoke us into acting rashly...”
“The body?” she asked faintly.
“It’s one of theirs,” he said. “One of the Grizzlies’ people. Fiona...this is going to change things.”
She didn’t know what he meant. She didn’t have time to ask. Whatever it was had to be confronted, managed quickly, before the situation exploded.
“Take our people inside,” she said. “Get everyone into one room and stay there.”
She was afraid he might argue, but he nodded, touched her shoulder briefly, and then began to shepherd the rest of the Hell’s Wolves into the house.
Fiona approached the bears slowly, not knowing what she would find or what their response to her presence would be. There was every chance they would be angry at her, if Percy was right, if they had really lost one of their people. After all, she was the one who had persuaded them to come here in the first place.
“Owen,” she said quietly.
He didn’t move. He stared at the ground at his feet.
Fiona pushed past Nova to see what they were looking at.
It was Joel—the youngest member of their pack, one of the two who had disappeared after finding out about Fiona and Owen. He had been slashed across the chest, but he had clearly been dead for some time.
Fiona sucked in a breath.
“Owen?” one of the bears said, sounding frightened.
Owen didn’t respond.
He can’t, she realized. He’s in shock.
“In the garage,” she said. “There are sheets. We can wrap him up. Take a shovel, and we can bury him. Anywhere you like. We’ll set a marker. We can do a service, if you want. My people will help as much as you need. Talk to Wes. Tell him I said so.”
She was sure her instructions wouldn’t be obeyed. But the bears looked relieved to be told what to do. They scattered, some heading for the garage, others for the house.
“Owen,” she said, resting a hand on his forearm.
He looked down at her, his face anguished.
“Let’s talk,” she said, and steered him toward the woods.
Chapter Fifteen
OWEN
It was impossible to think. All he could see was Joel’s broken body, pale with blood loss, his eyes vacant and staring. All he could think was I sent him away. It’s my fault he’s dead.
He had assumed that Joel had made it back home ages ago. He had trusted Damon to see their junior member safely home. But the two of them must have gotten separated. Joel had run across the Feral Fangs.
And they had killed him.
Fiona had been right all along, he realized bleakly. The Fangs weren’t going to leave the Grizzlies alone just because they were bears and not wolves. There was no point in trying to stay out of the fight. He knew now that he would fight at her side, even if the rest of the pack abandoned them. The best way to protect everyone he loved would be to do everything he could to neutralize the Fangs.
He would die fighting, if that was what it took.
He barely noticed that she had led him to the fallen tree they had come to have sex a couple of times. Now she sat him down on the log and took a seat beside him, her hand finding his, her warm body pressed against his side.
She said nothing, and neither did he.
After some time had gone by, he realized that she was rubbing her hand up and down the length of his arm, as though trying to soothe him. A moment later, it occurred to him that he was shaking. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. The bear within him was trying to make itself known, he knew. Nothing would be more satisfying right now than to let his rage and pain well up and take over, to give in to his animal instincts of protectiveness and aggression, to hunt down the people who had hurt his pack and make them pay.
“We have a plan,” Fiona said. She seemed to know what he was thinking. “We’re going to fight them. They’re going to answer for this. We have a plan. We can’t rush off half cocked and try to fight them. We’d lose. If we stick to the plan, we’ll have the best chance. We’ll have the advantage. You know that, don’t you?”
He breathed hard, trying to bring himself under control, and nodded.
She turned to him and kissed along his jaw. Her hands found the buttons of his shirt an
d ripped them free. There was desperation in her, and Owen realized he felt the very same thing. He wanted to feel anything but the pain and the guilt of Joel’s death. He needed an escape.
They didn’t even manage to get all their clothes off. Owen’s shirt hung open and his pants had been pushed halfway down his thighs when he entered her, clutching her desperately to his chest, hitching his hips to bring her closer to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and suckled hard at his ear, pausing now and again to give him a few little nips.
It wasn’t sweet and indulgent, the way sex between them had always been before. It wasn’t their usual game of trying to see which of them could dominate the other. It felt as if they’d been poisoned and this was the antidote, the only way to reclaim their sanity and their lives. They fucked desperately, needily, painfully.
Owen let out a roar when he came that set the birds flying from the treetops. There was no need to be quiet anymore, no reason to keep what they were doing a secret. Everyone knew already. Everyone had already found out.
He clung to Fiona, both of them shaking. He was afraid to put her down. When they stepped back from each other, the terrible things in the world would slip between them again. He would be forced to face the fact that he had lost a member of his family.
Damon was right.
I should never have been the alpha. Someone else would have done a better job. Someone else wouldn’t have lost Joel. If I hadn’t sent him away to protect myself, he would be alive right now.
Fiona slipped out of his arms and began to gather her clothes. “Do you feel better?” she asked quietly.
“No,” he growled. If anything, he felt worse. Before, the agony of knowing what he had done had been muted somewhat by the shock of it. Now he was awake to the pain. He could feel every ounce of his failure, and it made him want to die.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I’m so sorry about Joel, Owen. He was a sweet kid.”
“How could they do that to him?” Owen asked. “Just because he crossed their path? I know Joel wouldn’t have tried to start anything with them. He’s not an idiot.”
