He kissed me properly, slow and lingering, only interrupted when I yawned again. I closed my eyes, drawing the covers up under my chin. Gods, I was exhausted, and the heat of my mate’s body only tempted me back to sleep.
“You don’t normally sleep so late, my mate,” Quillan noted with a frown, his hand cupping my cheek as if checking for a sign I was ill.
I snorted, barely managing to peel open an accusing eye. “You kept me awake rather late.”
His concern turned to smug male pride as his frown became a smirk and I grumbled and settled back down. Males.
“What time is it anyway? It’s still dark outside so it can’t be that late.”
“It’s almost eight. I have to get up to go to a meeting after breakfast. I didn’t want you to wake up and find me gone with no explanation,” he explained, pushing himself up so the covers dropped low.
The distraction of the body of a god before my eyes was almost enough to stop me thinking about what exactly this meeting would be about. I followed the lines of muscle on his abdomen with my fingers until they reached the paling scar on his side, then back up a little to trace over his tattoos.
I could feel the heat of his gaze but I couldn’t bring myself to look up. It didn’t matter what they discussed, I knew what the outcome would be.
“Am I not wanted there?” I asked, wondering why I’d received no invitation.
I was Beta Female, where Quillan’s opinion was needed, did that not mean mine was? When my mate still didn’t answer, I finally forced myself to look up but his gaze was focused on the window. I shifted, keeping the covers to hide naked flesh, moving into his line of sight. “Quillan?”
He sighed and met my searching gaze, bringing me into his arms. “Of course you have every right to go, but do you really think it’s a good idea?”
Mulling that over, I cuddled into him. Did I really want to be there when wolves discussed whether or not to kill my father? Did I want to risk hearing their anger and fears directed at me?
“No,” I grumbled.
When Quillan laughed, I glared. What on earth could he possibly find funny about this? My skin flushed in embarrassment when I realised he was laughing at me. Pushing away, I scrambled for the other side of the bed, only to be pulled back into his arms.
“Are you being huffy, my mate?” he teased. “Remind me not to wake you without at least having coffee for you ever again.”
I hummed, thinking that a rather good idea. Stretching, almost moaning, I pushed myself to sit up. Now my mind was more awake, I was feeling a little less playful. Today would be the day my father’s fate was decided and I knew what everyone would be calling for after what was seen on the news…his head. I was sure that his being locked in the basement would no longer be a secret too.
“Maybe I should go though,” I said with a sigh. “He’s my father. I should be there when his fate is decided.”
Quillan stopped himself from saying whatever was on the tip off his tongue, his inhale freezing. He closed his eyes, his features tense. I knew he was fighting with instincts that told him to keep me as far away from everything as possible, I could feel the tension through the bond. When black eyes opened again, they were full of resignation.
“If that’s what you want, my mate. Let’s go get some food first,” he relented, leaning in to place a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth.
He was angry, more at himself for not being able to protect me as much as he believed he should than anything else. If only I could get him to understand that being my mate didn’t mean he had to protect me from the world. I tipped my head to kiss him properly, catching his hair in my hands to keep him there.
“It’s going to be okay,” I promised, forcing myself to give him a confident smile.
In his eyes, everything would be okay. My father would be executed, and in his mind, that meant there was no danger for me anymore. To me, it meant grieving alone and continuing to suffer through nightmares and beaten-in instincts. It was a reminder that Quillan was more fur than skin.
***
Accusing eyes watched my approach and it was only with the hulking form of my mate next to me that I managed to keep my head up. Quillan’s growl rumbled across the room and heads were quick to drop. Suddenly, I wasn’t feeling so hungry anymore. It seemed a lot of the pack wanted their voice heard when discussing what was to be done. Not all of the pack seemed to blame me however, a few sympathetic gazes were thrown my way, and those were the ones I struggled with. I didn’t want sympathy, I wanted only understanding.
We pushed our way to the front of the dining room that seemed to have now become the Wulven court. Roarke stood strong at the head of the table, refusing to sit when so many were left standing. Pale green eyes caught mine, surprise filling their depths before he gave me an approving nod. He was proud I was here, facing scrutiny with my head held up because despite what others may have thought, I was not the cause of my father’s crimes. This was not my trial. I had no guilt.
“I’m afraid we may have to wait for breakfast. The pack is restless, we need to get this over with so they can settle. Having police and search dogs so close to our borders is putting extra stress on us all,” Roarke murmured as my mate and I reached his side.
I gave him a tight smile, taking my place at our Alpha’s side. “I don’t mind, I’m not feeling very hungry right now anyway. I’d rather get this over with too.”
He nodded once and something that was said from across the room made him stiffen. Power began to seep from him, strong and battering against the walls. Heads dropped low, shoulders hunching, weaker wolves whining. My own head fell forward ever so slightly where before so much dominance would have me crumbling to the floor.
“Before we begin, there is one thing that I will have known. Oria is not her father. His crimes in no way reflect on her. Any wolf that says otherwise or tries to shift blame onto their Beta Female will be banned from these discussions. Is that understood?” Roarke boomed, his eyes glowing, fangs peeking threateningly.
Whatever had been said, it had been about me. My own eyes wandered over the crowd and I tightened my grip on Quillan’s hand, seeking his strength. I would not bow. Murmurs of understanding rang through the room. Eyes that once held anger towards me now held guilt. I understood how they felt, why they would blame me, and I didn’t take it to heart. Their Alpha’s words seemed to have cleared their heads.
“Should she really be here?”
My eyes flicked to Ben and Liam, who stood on Roarke’s other side. Liam’s words weren’t quite quiet enough and a few others spoke in agreement. Ben glared at his potential mate, and Liam bared his neck. It was odd seeing a wolf that was even bigger than my own mate so easily bowing down. Yet, I knew Liam had only spoken out of concern for me. The question circled my thoughts, doubt creeping up again. Should I have been here? Would I be able to keep strong and levelheaded, to keep my emotions at bay?
Shifting, I coughed, straightening up. “As Beta Female, my place is here, especially as our Alpha Female is unable to attend. I promise I won’t be swayed by being the blood of the wolf we’re here to discuss. My side is your side. I have only the interests of the pack at heart.”
As I spoke, I knew it was true to an extent. I wished I could have tried to dissuade the pack from choosing death as punishment but if it was what was decided, I’d make my peace with that. I’d have to. My words seemed to have appeased most wolves in the room. Only the two males next to me knew the truth of how I’d lowered myself to begging to keep my father alive.
I’d had time to think about things since then. After Quillan had fallen asleep, I had tossed and turned on the matter for hours. One thing that my mind kept circling back to was what if he hurt someone else while held captive here. I would feel the guilt of that too. It would be safer for us all if he no longer walked the earth.
I wished I knew exactly where Cathwulf stood on the subject. She’d never said one way or the other, simply tried to put a balm on things when t
he conversation got heated. She was heavily pregnant now, due any day, ruled by emotion and the instincts of her fur that would sway her to call for his death. She was an Alpha Female, she simply had to choose what was best for everyone, just like I had to in my new role as Beta Female, I reminded myself.
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. I was thinking too much and getting myself worked up. Focus.
“I’m aware it’s probably well known by now that the wolf known as Henrik, father of Oria, previous member of the Eastern pack, is being held by us,” Roarke began, folding his hands behind his back. “He stands accused of the abuse of his daughter and the murder of two humans close to pack land. It should also be noted that he’s feral and not of sound mind. As I feel I’m too close to the abused to make a decision not swayed by emotion, we as a pack shall decide what to do.”
My eyes flicked to our Alpha in shock. He felt he was too emotionally involved? His gaze met mine for a moment, pale green swirling with rage that I’d seen mirrored in Quillan’s eyes. It was then I realised that Roarke had never visited my father to question him either and he too had forced himself back into the house when he’d first arrived. Did he not trust himself around my father?
I believed him more now that he truly did see me as more than simply the mate to his brother or the Beta Female of his pack. This male was furious beyond measure that my father had thought to touch me like he had.
“Does there really need to be a discussion?” Weylin asked from the front of the crowd, his expression grave. “He hurt one of our own and he broke one of our most important laws. The punishment for that has always been death.”
The crowd murmured their agreement, the sound building until cries for his execution were being called out. I stiffened, closing my eyes against the barrage to my senses.
“We need to get rid of him!”
“He’s dangerous!”
“He can’t be allowed to live!”
Cowering back, pressing closer into my mate’s side, I wished I’d decided not to come. The tangy scent of fury was heavy in the air. Terrified wolves whose home was being threatened by police who could search our land at any moment. My body began to tremble, hands fisting against the desire to flee. Breathing deeply in through my mouth to avoid the scents, I let it out slowly. The room suddenly quieted again.
Managing to open my eyes, sympathetic faces were looking towards me. Flidais pushed her way forward, Brighid flanking her.
“We all know Oria. There’s not a bad bone in her body. She was in her father’s care, vulnerable and innocent, a pup, and he betrayed her trust. We’ve seen the trauma he’s caused her. Even without the murders, execution is the only suitable punishment,” Flidais stated firmly, looking around the room.
Many nodded at that and I hated the feel of so many eyes on me, even if it was because they cared about me, what I’d suffered through. Brighid offered me a small smile of support, mouthing an apology for her sister’s outburst.
“What does our Beta Female want?”
My gaze searched for the voice of Arianna and I found her at the back of the crowd, her mother, Persephone, standing beside her. These females would be on my side, I was sure.
I swallowed, doing my best not to look down. “If left to live, my father doesn’t have long anyway. My wish was that he be left to live out the rest of his time a captive—”
The room was in uproar at that, only a few remaining silent. My jaw clenched, irritation growing at having been interrupted. A growl tore through the room, my chest vibrating as my dominance flared out. These wolves weren’t the only ones shocked by the strength I held in that moment as necks were bared and backs bent into bows. Quillan didn’t flinch, a glimmer of pride in his eyes while my Alpha and his third stared at me in disbelief.
If only I wasn’t in front of a crowd, I might have taken a moment to come to terms with how much strength I’d just shown.
“If you’ll let me finish, please,” I said tightly, taking another deep breath. “After thinking it through, I realise that it’d be cruel to let him suffer on as he is. I’m not my father, I can’t let someone be in pain. I take no pleasure in it and I don’t crave revenge for what he did to me. It may be kinder to him and better for us if he is indeed executed.”
I could feel Roarke’s eyes on me but I couldn’t bear to look at him. This decision tortured me and I kept my gaze focussed on the door instead of looking at any one wolf.
“I believe we’ve reached a decision then,” Roarke stated, though there was no relief in his voice.
I looked around the room once more, as if someone would speak out on my father’s behalf. What I’d said I knew to be true, letting him live wouldn’t be fair to anyone. I couldn’t let him suffer. That wasn’t me. This was right.
When nobody spoke up, our Alpha nodded to himself. “In that case, I’ve only one more thing to announce. Please make sure to pass on what I’m about to say to those not here, every wolf must know. I’ll send out the message to all pack contacts just in case as well. I want everyone, unless specifically told otherwise by me, to stay away from the borders in fur. In fact, though I know it’ll be difficult, I would like if we could all refrain from shifting until the police have conducted their search.
“They haven’t come onto our land yet, but they might. We all have to be careful, we can’t draw attention to ourselves. I’ve contacted the local witch coven and asked for their assistance in helping cover any wolf tracks in and around pack land, and to deter police searching near here. Please be careful. I’ll keep you all updated, thank you.”
Slowly, the pack dispersed, a few lingering to talk in hushed whispers that reached my ears like static from a radio. My father’s fate had just been sealed, partially because of my own words. I’d given permission to kill him. Did I owe it to myself and the pack to be there when they went through with it? Who would be the one to dole out his punishment? Ancient laws dictated that Roarke would be the one to carry out the execution, and this pack stuck to the old ways.
Quillan’s hand on my shoulder almost made me jump out my skin. I looked up, feeling numb.
“Are you all right?” he asked, moving so he blocked me from those still in the room, trying to give me some semblance of privacy.
I nodded, then shook my head, then opened my mouth before shrugging. I didn’t know. I didn’t know if I was all right. The room felt like it was getting smaller, all the air being sucked from my lungs. My mate frowned, cupping my face in his hands.
“You need to breathe, Oria,” he commanded firmly, drawing the attention of Roarke.
But I couldn’t. My chest had constricted, an invisible band wrapping so tightly around my ribs, I feared they’d break. Hot tears trailed down my cheeks, blurring Quillan’s features.
Ben rushed everyone out the room, even though I could hear them ask what was wrong.
My hands were cold and tingling, the feeling spreading up my arms. Inhaling, the breath caught in my throat, no oxygen reached my lungs. I swayed.
“Sit her down, Quillan,” Roarke directed.
Quillan was panicking now too. I could feel it rushing through the bond and his wolf tore at his control, wanting to fight and kill whatever was distressing me. Roarke was about to be stuck with one panic-ridden female and one feral male if I couldn’t get a hold of myself.
Ben grabbed Quillan, tugging him away from me so Roarke could guide me to a chair. I sat heavily, jarring my spine. Nails dug into soft wood, trying to anchor myself as the room began to spin.
“Look at me, female,” Roarke urged, looking behind him to where my mate growled at Ben. “Quillan, go get a glass of water and calm yourself down. She’s fine, it’s a panic attack, but you acting out won’t help.”
I could have laughed at the pairing Quillan and I made if I had the ability to form a coherent thought. As it were, that sound of static was getting louder, crackling away inside my head. I covered my ears, squeezing my eyes shut. Hands grabbed mine, easing them away from my head.
Pale green eyes urged me to focus.
“Just listen to me, Oria. Listen. What can you hear around you?” Roarke asked gently. “What can you feel?”
I could hear Roarke’s voice, low and calming, a tap running in the kitchen, someone moving about upstairs. I could feel the wooden chair beneath me, the clothes against my skin, Roarke’s warm hands around mine.
He smiled. “Now what can you smell?”
I inhaled, searching through the array of scents. Cinnamon from the buns someone had made for breakfast, Roarke’s woodsy scent, the lavender shampoo I’d been using.
My muscles relaxed, the world slowly came back into focus. By asking me to think of what I could smell, he’d made me breathe again. Another shaky inhale through my nose, letting the breath out slowly from my mouth. My tongue felt thick and dry as it always did after one of my episodes. I hadn’t had one in so long and shame washed over me. My head dropped until a cold, wet glass was placed in my hand.
“Little sips,” Quillan said from above me.
The two males watched as I sipped the water. Relief flooded my body, and I took bigger gulps. Once I’d calmed enough that I was sure I wasn’t going to topple off my chair, I leaned back.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “That hasn’t happened in a while.”
“I’m not surprised it’s happened now. A lot’s happened in the last week, it can get overwhelming. It’s just your body’s way of telling you that you need to slow down,” Roarke explained, giving me an easy smile.
I smiled back, grateful for his help. “Thank you.”
“I should be the one apologising,” my mate said gruffly, hanging his head in shame. “I’m your mate. I should know how to look after you.”
He was jealous, I realised. That emotion was sickly strong from him. He hated that Roarke could help ease my suffering where he couldn’t. Roarke stood and made room for Quillan to come to my side.
Way Of The Wolf: Endeavour (The Wulvers Series Book 3) Page 28
