by C. D. Gorri
A groan rose in my throat. Not this again. I rubbed my forehead. “I’m leaving in the morning. Is this really how you want to spend our last night together?”
“I love you, Eden. I want to be with you.”
“You are with me!” I gestured around. “Do you see anyone else up here?”
“I want you to be my wife. And before you ask what difference it makes if we’re married, it makes a difference to me. I’ve made that abundantly clear.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
He narrowed his eyes. “The sarcasm is a little uncalled for, don’t you think?”
It was, and it wouldn’t help anything. But I was so tired of going round and round with him over his marriage obsession. We already lived together. I didn’t want anyone else but him. A piece of paper wasn’t going to change that.
But he wanted it anyway, and its absence was a sliver between us that kept burrowing deeper. My decision to make the trip to Black Rock was like a finger nudging it past the skin and into the muscle.
We stared at each other, three days’ worth of disagreements boiling between us.
Then he moved fast, seizing my face in his hands before I could react. When I might have pulled away, he crushed his mouth to mine, kissing me with an intensity that stole my breath. He knew what I liked, and he stroked his tongue against mine until my anger receded and my palms found their way back to his chest.
When my head was spinning and heat gathered between my legs, he broke off the kiss and rested his forehead against mine. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m just scared to death. I can’t lose you.”
I brushed my fingers over his jaw, desire swirling in all the right places. I resisted the urge to press my body against his, to savor the hard length of his cock against my aching sex. He wouldn’t welcome the contact—not with a watchtower in view.
So I settled for stroking his cheek. “You won’t lose me. I have an escort, remember? You arranged it yourself.” A smile pulled at my mouth, and I gave his jaw a playful tap. “Who better to guarantee my safe passage than the esteemed Doctor Michael Hessen, global authority on feral behaviors and hierarchies?” It was a title we joked about, considering nothing was truly “global.” He might very well have been the world’s feral expert, but there was no way of knowing. The last of the undersea communications cables failed decades before either of us was born, and airships could no longer safely make transatlantic journeys.
His huff of exasperation drifted over my lips. “It’s never safe beyond the walls. Even with an escort—even with the serum—you’ll be in danger.”
“You’ve spent weeks in the Alterlands and survived.”
“It’s different for women.”
“You mean like literally everything else in life?”
He pulled back. “No more sarcasm. Not with this.”
“Michael—”
“You’ve never gone farther than a mile outside the walls, and you don’t know ferals. I’ve spent my whole adult life studying them. Strength is all they care about. They embrace the urges we fight so hard to suppress. They’re faster and stronger, and they take what they want. When they shift, not even a bullet will stop them.”
It was my turn to be exasperated. “I know all that.” It was the reason we stood atop a hundred-foot wall.
“You don’t, though. Not really. You think the serum will keep you safe, but it doesn’t always work that way. You’ll be a walking target out there—a beacon for any feral male.” His fingers gripped my upper arm, and before I knew it he was pulling me toward the wall.
I yanked against his hold, my heart rate spiking as the edge loomed. “Michael, what the hell?”
He stopped at the battlements and pointed down. “Look.”
“Michael—”
“Just look!”
Heart pounding, I followed the direction of his finger, my gaze settling on a pair of figures huddled at the base of the wall directly below the watchtower. They were bundled in dark layers, but a lock of bright red hair spilled over one’s shoulders. As I watched, a pale hand emerged and stuffed the strand in a ratty scarf.
Refugees. The city got a couple every month or so. They gathered at the base of the watchtowers that overlooked the city’s great iron gate. It was a long process to be allowed inside. Applicants had to prove they responded to the serum.
Not everyone succeeded.
Michael murmured at my ear. “It’s only feral females who beg to be let inside the city. Why do you think that is?”
I faced him, anger hot in my veins. “Maybe they get tired of men.”
His lips thinned. “They’re helpless when they enter their heat cycle. It may only happen twice a year, but the need is overwhelming. The strongest males take what they want. They take who they want.”
“I’m not a feral female, Michael. I won’t go into heat.”
“But you are female. There are two options for women in the Alterlands. Mated or dead.”
Despite the warm night, goosebumps lifted on my arms. Almost against my will, my gaze was drawn to the women under the watchtower. What circumstances had driven them to abandon their lives for a world totally foreign to their own? A shudder passed through me.
I turned back to Michael and straightened my shoulders. “I’m spending a day in the Alterlands, not a lifetime. I took an oath to help others, and that’s what I’m choosing to do. The least you can do is respect it.”
“I do.”
“Are you serious?” I moved away from the wall. It was either that or chuck him over it. “Have you heard yourself the past three days? I’m surprised you haven’t tied me up to keep me here.”
“That’s not fair, and you know it.” He flung a hand toward the darkened plain. “I risked my own skin to get that escort for you.”
“Which is why I’ll be fine! I thought this feral friend of yours was an alpha. He promised safe passage.”
Michael grimaced. “Rurik is hardly a friend. More like an opportunist. I had to pay him a fortune to agree to this.”
“Well, whatever he is, you said no other feral will cross him.”
“He’s still just one man, if you can call him that. And you’re…”
Wind gusted, whistling over the battlements and tugging at my hair.
“What?” I prompted.
He stared, his stark gaze roving over my face like he was memorizing my features. A low thrum of anxiety shivered in my gut. Was he really that worried?
I swallowed. “Michael? I’m what?”
“Stubborn,” he murmured, almost to himself. Before I could reply, he went to the pack and picked it up. “This is Rurik’s payment. Your serum is in here, too. There’s enough for five days, just in case.”
I looked between him and the pack. “You came up here to talk me out of going, yet you brought me serum for the trip?”
He gave me a soft, sad smile. “As I said, you’re stubborn. I knew you wouldn’t change your mind.”
Out of nowhere, my throat grew thick. It was easier when he fought. I knew how to handle angry, condescending Michael. But this resigned version left me feeling strangely bereft.
Almost like this was the goodbye he claimed it was.
He came to me and offered the pack. “Two doses a day, no matter what. You can’t forget.”
Some of my earlier exasperation returned. I’d been taking serum twice a day since I was a child. I was hardly likely to forget it in a place where missing a dose could mean death. Or worse.
But his reminder sprang from a place of concern, so I bit my tongue and slung the pack over my shoulder.
We stood silent, nothing but wind and resentment between us. Never go to bed angry. Isn’t that what everyone told couples?
I tried for a smile. “Is it too late to get that dinner?”
His expression didn’t change. I felt my smile falter.
Before I could say anything else, a horn blasted the air. Its deep, mournful bellow came from the watchtower closest to us,
the eerie sound lifting the hairs on my nape. Before the last echo died out, green flame burst from the top of the tower. It shot straight up, sizzling and crackling as it licked at the sky.
My stomach clenched. That signal only meant one thing.
Michael and I rushed to the wall. On the plain below, a pair of glowing eyes appeared.
Then another.
And another.
I held my breath as a trio of shapes emerged from the darkness. At first, I could only see their eyes. Then, as they approached the wall, the shapes became three towering men. They walked soundlessly, their bodies moving with a slinking grace that was both mesmerizing and unsettling.
My heart pounded. Heat from the warning fire seared my face, and the green flames danced along the edge of my vision.
But I couldn’t look at them. I had to keep my attention on the threat nearing the wall. The males moved in an arrow formation, with the largest in front and the other two flanking him.
When they reached the gate, they stopped. Slowly, the man in front lifted his head, his gaze traveling up and up until bright golden eyes locked on me.
My throat went dry.
Michael spoke in a grim voice at my shoulder. “It’s too late for dinner. Your escort is here.”
Chapter Two
I swallowed as the massive iron gate opened, its gears emitting a high-pitched scream that split the night.
Michael stood next to me. A line of fighters stood at our backs, their weapons trained on the gate, fingers on the triggers in case they needed to take down anything that might try to enter.
I tried not to think about how the bullets would go through me first if they fired.
“Control your breathing,” Michael said quietly. “Your heart is racing.”
Startled, I looked at him. “Can you hear it?” Because it pounded in my ears.
He kept his gaze on the gate. “No…but they can.”
The gate shuddered to a stop. It was open just enough to let us pass through single-file, and even then we’d have to angle our bodies sideways to slip outside.
Michael met my eyes, his expression inscrutable. “They’ll see your pulse fluttering, too. They don’t miss anything.”
I gave a jerky nod. My hand gripping the pack’s strap was damp with sweat—another side effect of fear. Suddenly, I wished I’d paid more attention when Michael practiced the meditation that kept him calm when he left the walls. Serum masked a norm’s scent, rendering us “invisible” to a feral’s senses. But enough fear or panic could override the drug. And the sound of a racing heart might as well be a drum.
Behind us, a fighter called out. “Let’s go! We need to close this gate.”
My pulse spiked.
Michael walked forward.
“Wait!” I grabbed his sleeve and spoke in a low rush. “How do you know this Rurik will keep me safe? How much did you give him?”
He stared at my hand on his arm, then lifted bleak eyes to mine. “Everything he asked for. Let’s hope it’s enough.”
The fighter at our backs yelled again. “Thirty seconds!”
“Last chance,” Michael said. “You can still back out, Eden.”
I looked at the gate. It would be easy to turn and walk away. I could be in my apartment within minutes, where I could curl up in bed and forget all about feral escorts and cloaking my fear.
And Governor Soo would almost certainly lose his wife. They had three young children. The note from the airship said she taught elementary school.
“I have to go,” I told Michael. I strode toward the gate without waiting to see if he followed.
At the opening, a fighter stepped from the shadows and held up a hand. “Just you, Doctor Bradley. Doctor Hessen has to stay inside.”
“What?” I spun and found Michael. “You can’t go out with me?”
He put his hands on my upper arms. “Steady. You know the rules. Anyone exposed to a feral has to quarantine for three days before reentering the city.”
“But you’re just stepping outside! I need you to introduce me—”
“I don’t make the rules, Eden.”
The fighter spoke behind us. “I have to close this gate.”
“Michael—”
“Doctor Hessen, I need you to move away from the wall.”
Michael shot the man a stern look. “Give us a second.” He tangled his fingers in my hair and bent so his lips were at my ear. “Rurik is an alpha, which means he’s used to being obeyed. Keep your head down and do as he says.”
Throat tight, I rasped, “Okay.”
He tipped my head back and kissed me. Surprised, I gasped and kissed him back.
“Doctor Bradley, you are out of time.”
Michael broke away, his brown eyes serious. “Don’t forget the serum. I’ll be here when you get back.” While I was still breathless from the kiss, he spun me around and pushed me toward the narrow opening.
The fighter gripped my pack and used it to propel me forward and through the gate. I didn’t have time to shrug him off or drag my feet. One minute my shoulder was brushing the gate’s unforgiving iron, the next I was outside the wall.
And I wasn’t alone.
The three ferals stood a short distance away. They were utterly still, their bodies bathed in flickering green light from the fire high overhead. Their eyes glowed, the reflective surface behind their retinas letting them see me as clearly as if we stood under a noonday sun. It was the hallmark of an unchecked Lykos-D infection. According to accounts from the early days of The Fall, governments tried to control the plague by raiding homes at night and killing anyone whose eyes reflected the light.
Then the infected started to shift.
Behind me, the gate groaned and shook the ground as it closed. The ferals continued to watch me, their faces obscured by the dancing shadows of the watchtower’s flames. The wind had died down, leaving the air stagnant and thick. The only sound was the gate shuddering as it locked in place.
Sealing me outside with the three towering males. They were dressed in plain but seemingly well-made clothes—cargo pants, boots, and T-shirts that molded to their massive chests. They carried no guns, but ferals never did.
They didn’t need them.
I shuffled my feet. Instinct urged me to back up, but I stopped myself. There was nowhere to go. Even if I turned and pounded on the gate, they wouldn’t let me inside. The ferals could tear me to pieces and the guards in the tower would simply watch it happen.
Abruptly, Michael’s voice ran through my head. “There are two options for females in the Alterlands. Mated or dead.”
My stomach did a queasy flip. There were worse things than death. Mated males rarely gave up their females. Once they claimed a woman, they kept her unless another male tried to take her. Feral females didn’t have much choice in the matter. And if they went into heat, they had no choice at all. Michael said the drive to mate was so strong it was almost unbearable. Some females hid themselves away during their heat cycles so undesirable males couldn’t scent them and take advantage.
Mated or dead.
Those words were just a concept when I was standing on the wall—something I knew but didn’t quite feel. Now, face to face with the embodiment of that warning, my legs threatened to give out.
The male in front stalked forward, closing on me so fast I let out a strangled scream and stumbled back, nearly dropping the pack as I bumped into the gate.
He stopped about a foot away—close enough for me to make out his clothes and features. Even with my heart pounding and dizziness sweeping me, I felt a beat of shock. His face was hard but handsome, his square jaw covered in black stubble. The hair on his head was a slightly lighter shade and cut close to his scalp, with a thin scar running up his hairline. His mouth was sensual—his lips full and well-formed.
“You’re Eden Bradley?” The low voice came in a gruff rumble, and it was accompanied by a flash of white fangs.
Holy fuck.
Stop staring at hi
s mouth.
Pulse fluttering like a trapped bird, I tipped my head back even more so I could meet his gaze.
Immediately, I was hit with another wave of dizziness, and this time I wasn’t certain it was from fear. His eyes were a deep, molten gold, the irises unmarred by any flecks of black or brown. It was a color usually only found in animals, and my subconscious whispered the word those in the cities were forbidden to say.
Werewolf.
“Answer me, female.” The order licked at my skin, its lash like a brush of sandpaper.
“Y-Yes,” I said, fighting the urge to flinch. “I mean, I’m Eden Bradley.”
The yellowish eyes flicked to the pack over my shoulder. “You have my payment?”
“Yes.” Did he want to see it or—
“Don’t fall behind.” He turned and stalked away, throwing a subtle hand gesture to his two companions. They fell into step behind him, their boots soundless against the dusty ground.
For a moment, I slumped against the gate, my body trembling. That was Rurik. As far as introductions went, his was direct but effective. There was no mistaking who was in charge. I brushed the bare skin of my upper arm where my T-shirt sleeve stopped. Michael said alphas had a unique way of forcing compliance, but the order had still come as a shock.
And I got the impression this particular alpha could deliver a much harsher command if he chose.
He and the others continued moving down the wall, none of them looking back. I hiked the pack higher on my shoulder and hustled after them. By the time I caught up, they neared the watchtower. Its green flames still reached toward the sky, and the city’s glow was a soft halo around the blaze. The guards in the tower wouldn’t extinguish the fire until the ferals were out of sight. Which meant I would be out of sight too.
I swallowed against a dry throat and kept moving.
As my escort passed the watchtower, one of the ferals in the rear let out a low growl and broke formation. Rurik and the other male stopped and watched silently as he shot toward the wall and the two figures huddled at its base.
My breath caught. I’d forgotten about the females.
I looked at Rurik. “What’s he doing?”
