by May Dawson
He squared off with the pack alpha.
The alpha looked away from Penn, holding his arms out to shrug at the crowd of fighters, who laughed and hooted.
Penn just grinned in response. I knew he was used to being underestimated.
The alpha suddenly whirled and charged at him. Penn flashed out of his way, though, and the alpha stumbled on air. Penn might not be a wolf anymore, but he was fast as one.
The alpha was already whirling as Penn kicked him, and the alpha’s shoulders slammed into the dirt. He rolled up, growling, his mouth already beginning to transform.
“Well, that stopped being a joke real fast, didn’t it?” Penn demanded.
There was a moment where the alpha would be weakest and most vulnerable during the transformation, and Penn dove into the fray as the alpha’s muscles snapped, as his mouth suddenly filled with extra teeth. He got his hand on the alpha’s neck and drove his knee into his face, over and over. The blood of the transformation splattered over them both, and for a moment, the alpha’s face stayed misshapen and bleeding, as if he were trapped between being a human and a wolf.
Then suddenly, the alpha finished the change with a roar, and whirled to snap at Penn. He had suddenly transformed into the enormous gray wolf that had haunted my dreams for years.
But Penn was already jumping over his back. The wolf whirled to fight him, but Penn managed to grab his muzzle with one hand, holding his mouth closed while he punched him in the eye. The next moment, the alpha threw him halfway across the yard, and Penn landed hard, seeming to bounce across the lawn.
The alpha didn’t go after him right away, though. He shook his head; his eye looked swollen and hurt. He was blinded on one side.
Or he wanted us to think he was.
Penn, weaponless and facing a wolf, had already bounced to his feet. He shook out his shoulders and whistled a tune as he moved back toward the wolf.
The wolf lunged at him, just as I realized that Penn’s whistling didn’t sound quite right. He was throwing his voice subtly to one side. He’d realized the wolf was blind in one eye too, and he was trying anything that might work to his advantage.
But if Penn was using magic to alter sounds—and I wondered if he was changing where his scent seemed to come from too—in the midst of a fight, he was far more powerful than he’d been three months before, when we lost our wolves.
The wolf lunged at him. Penn waited until the last second, then rolled underneath him. My breath caught in my chest; that was a dangerous position, one where the wolf could easily pin him. Penn punched the wolf in the throat, slammed his knees up into it, then rolled to one side and up to his feet.
The movement left him open for a moment, though, and the wolf’s snapping teeth ripped into Penn’s side, tearing open the bandages over his burn.
The crowd had gone silent instead of laughing. Watching Penn fight a fully-grown wolf weaponless and unarmed had shocked them, apparently.
Penn punched the wolf in the other eye over and over, blinding him until the wolf suddenly let go. Penn’s side was so bloody I couldn’t see how bad the damage was, but I got a general impression of vivid red gore. Rosemary’s hand had tightened until I could barely feel my fingers, but I was too focused on Penn—and on how I might try one last-ditch effort to get Penn and Rosemary out of here safely.
But Penn, wincing in pain, hurtled over the alpha’s back and wrapped his arm around his throat. The wolf tossed from side to side, trying to throw him, but Penn just clung tighter, squeezing the alpha’s throat.
And the alpha finally succumbed, staggering, then falling. The alpha’s eyes closed; he was beginning to transform, shifting back into a man, his wounds healing.
“He tapped out,” the alpha’s second muttered reluctantly. “Victory to the Carolina pack.”
Penn staggered back toward us as the alpha opened his eyes. Penn pushed his dirty blond hair back with one hand and leveled a grin my way.
I grinned back as relief flooded through me. “Looks like you learned a few things at the academy.”
“Not enough,” the alpha said from behind him, right before he lunged toward Penn. Someone in the crowd threw something to the alpha, who whipped toward Penn with a flash of silver in his hand.
“Look out!” I shouted.
Penn whirled just in time and ducked under the alpha’s blow. He managed to get him by the jaw with one hand, bracing the alpha with his arm across his shoulders. An oh shit look crossed the alpha’s face. Subtle strands of golden magic flared along Penn’s arm as he broke his neck. The alpha was staring right at me when the life went out of his eyes.
I hoped no one had seen that. We might still not get out of here alive if the pack knew we were using magic. They’d allied with the witches, and they were still arrogant and resentful about magic.
But everyone seemed to be staring at Penn in horror. He dropped the body, letting the alpha crumple to the ground, then dusted his hands against his jeans.
And then they began to kneel.
“Alpha,” they ground out as they went to their knees.
Penn looked around at them, his own horror mirroring theirs. He didn’t even want to be the alpha of one pack.
“Great,” he said. He stepped over the old alpha’s body. “I’ll be back. For now, I want you to bring all your weapons to me. No one leaves pack lands. Do you understand me?”
The Kierney pack had a date at the academy, but they were never going to make it to help the other packs and the surviving witches who had us under siege.
“Understood, alpha.”
“Sweetest words,” Penn said to me, even though I wasn’t sure he really meant it.
Rosemary suddenly hugged him, and Penn hugged her tight, looking over her head at me in confusion. But he patted her back, trying to make her feel better.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go home.”
Once we had their weapons, the three of us headed for the car to get the hell out of pack territory before this strange situation could turn sideways yet again.
Chapter Eighteen
Maddie
A few hours later, just as dawn first streaked the sky, we had ditched the snowblazers—Silas had flickered his fingers and sent them racing off halfway around the world, it seemed—and finished our hike into Quorum.
We arrived at a safe house, a cottage in a maze of endless suburb streets. The inside of the house smelled musky, and I couldn’t stop sneezing when we walked inside.
“You sneeze like an adorable little kitty cat,” Jensen told me as he dragged open the curtains that looked out into the overgrown backyard. “Silas, you’re a terrible home owner. Although to be fair, it’s a terrible home.”
“Seems pretty nice to me,” Silas said mildly, reminding us all of where he came from.
The cottage was dingy, with a loft above the living room for the bedroom. “Looks like we’re all sleeping together,” Jensen drawled when we returned from our short circuit through the house.
“All right, before we move onto recon,” Rafe told Silas. “I need the full story about what happened back in the woods.”
“Do you?” Silas cocked his head at Rafe, examining him, then sighed before Rafe could unleash on him. “Yes, I suppose you do.”
Silas explained, “All right; here’s the truth. I saw an old friend wearing an Establishment magicians uniform right before I jumped from the train. He grew up in the orphanage with me and we were, ah, rescued by the Rebel Magicians together, so we have all the same training. He doesn’t know my mission, but he does know my ways, and I knew he’d track me through the woods if I didn’t double back.”
“How did he recognize you?” I demanded.
“Hold on,” Rafe said, holding up his hand. “First I want to know why you didn’t just tell me that, Silas.” He paused, just for a second. “Then I want to know how he recognized you through….this.” He gestured at Echo’s grim face.
“It would have taken too long to track you down and go b
ack. I figured they’d have something like blazers on the train that they could use, and we were moving on foot,” Silas said reasonably—so reasonably that it made me suspicious. “And he didn’t even see my face. He could recognize me because he knows my magic, very well. We were roommates from practically the day our parents gave us up.”
“What did you do after you doubled back?” Jensen asked quietly, his arms folded over his chest. He was watching Silas with kindness in his golden eyes.
Silas looked abashed, which I didn’t expect from him. “I stole the snowblazers and left them. I should have killed them, that would have been the practical thing.”
Rafe nodded, his face expressionless. “I see.”
Silas glanced at the three of us, obviously feeling judged. But I knew that Silas only killed when he felt he had to; he felt who ended up on which side was a precarious game of luck. We were all willing to kill to protect our little family and the universe beyond; we all had.
None of us wanted Silas to be hurt, though.
“We need to get the shield and get out of here, because eventually, they will track us down again,” Silas said.
“We will,” Rafe said. He glanced out the windows at the sky just beginning to brighten. “Everyone get some rest. It’s been a long day, and we need to wait until the museum opens to do our recon. We’ve got a few hours. I’ll take first watch.”
I tried to settle down to sleep, but I couldn’t; I kept sneezing in the dusty loft. At first, I was curled up against Jensen’s shoulder as usual, but eventually, he rolled away and cocked his arm over his face, using his big bicep to cover his eyes. I rolled onto my side too, pressing my butt against the athletic curve of his ass; we slept this way occasionally too, but right now I felt like he was annoyed at me for sneezing, which was hardly fair. I desperately wanted to be asleep too.
Then, even though he’d teased me, he started snoring. I was finally drifting off until he began, and I rose onto my elbows, staring at him. I glanced over at Silas, wishing I could use a sleeping spell, but that hardly seemed a good idea when we were being hunted by his ex-bestie. His handsome face was still in sleep, his pale lashes resting above his chiseled cheekbones, and I wouldn’t disturb his peace. Silas had little enough of that.
These men all took turns being my favorite, and since he wasn’t snoring, he was my current favorite.
I started to shift toward the end of the bed, thinking I’d relieve Rafe from the watch so he could get some rest. As soon as I did, Jensen reached for me; I wasn’t sure he was even fully awake as he grabbed my wrist and towed me against his body, snuggling me into all that hard, ropy muscle. “Where are you going?” he murmured huskily.
“I’m only staying if you promise to stop snoring.”
He blinked golden eyes, a little less sleepily now and more annoyed. “I don’t snore.”
I scoffed. “Tell that to my right eardrum, which is still ringing.”
He didn’t usually snore, but the dust in the house had bothered all of us.
“Is that why you moved over to Silas’s side of the bed?”
“You moved over first!”
“You kept sneezing.”
“This is the stupidest fight the two of you have ever had.” Rafe’s voice floated up even though he was unseen in the downstairs part of the house. “And for the two of you, that’s really saying something.”
Usually, Jensen and I would’ve shared a look over whatever Rafe was scolding us about, but this time he just closed his eyes as if he was ignoring me. And I felt just a little bit hurt.
“I’d better relieve him from the watch,” I said, patting Jensen’s shoulder. His eyes opened in response, glowing golden in the gloom, and he nodded in understanding before his eyes closed again.
Relationships were hard. As I pulled on my sweater, I kept thinking about how romance novels always ended a few chapters after the couple committed to each other. But in real life, that happy ending wasn’t followed by years of bliss.
My happy ending with these guys would probably be followed by years of sword-fighting, sarcasm, snoring, bantering, and bloodshed…sometimes of each other’s blood, for that matter.
If we could even reach a happy ending, when Chase thought Blake and Skyla might be better off without us, and Rafe and Silas were fighting for control, and Tyson wasn’t even with us. I shook my head, pushing away the dark thoughts. One crisis at a time. We had to get through the Greyworld.
I padded downstairs to find Rafe leaning against the wall next to one of the windows. He held the curtain away from the glass with two fingers, staring out at the world beyond.
“See anything odd?” I asked in a whisper.
“No,” he said. “It’s beautiful here.”
I joined him at the window, and he slung his arm around my shoulders, drawing me close to him. I leaned into his side to look out at the soft snow blanketing the village, reflecting the pale moonlight. Everything in the Greyworld now looked magical, brighter, and cleaner than in our world.
If only we weren’t being chased by evil magicians.
“Do you think Silas will want to stay here?” he asked softly.
“No,” I said, more confidently than I felt. “He belongs with us. He must feel that too.”
Rafe nodded as if he saw right through me, but said nothing. He pressed a kiss to my forehead.
“I’m sure he’d never want to leave you,” Rafe said, which wasn’t exactly an assurance Silas wouldn’t leave me anyway. But I’d bet that Rafe meant to comfort me as much as he could without lying.
I leaned my head against his hard chest, feeling warm when his big arms wrapped around me, even though cold air leaked steadily through the window.
“You should get some sleep,” I told him, even though I selfishly wanted to stay right here with him. It was impossible not to feel safe when our bodies were pressed together the way they were now.
“I should,” he agreed. “That would be the sensible thing to do.”
He made no move to leave me.
I twisted so I could get a look at his face, at that big chiseled jaw, dark-lashed chocolate brown eyes, and the jet-black hair still in place even when we were on the run in another world, as if even Rafe’s hair was afraid to get out of line. He lowered his head to meet my gaze, one eyebrow quirking. He’d given me that look an awful lot since we met.
“You’re always sensible, Rafe.”
He snorted. “Am I?”
I really did think of him that way, but then he swept my hair off my neck, pushing it over my shoulder, and thought basically stuttered to a stop. He lowered his head to kiss my throat, just below my ear. His lips nuzzled and teased. He rested his hand on my stomach, and then slid lower; even through my jeans, I felt each one of his fingers individually, as if my body were deeply attuned to him.
“I think I lost my sense when I met you,” he murmured into my ear, pressing behind me. “And if I hadn’t lost it then, well. Trying to act like I only cared about you professionally while I fantasized about you constantly… that destroyed any sense I had left.”
My hands rose to press against the cold glass as he moved behind me. I tilted my face up to his. He kissed me softly, slowly, as if he were savoring my lips. His hand teased between my thighs, stroking over the seam in my jeans, toying with me as sweetly as those kisses.
Even though our kisses had been gentle, I was still breathless when I pulled away from him. “What exactly were those fantasies?”
He cupped my chin with two fingers. “I fantasized about much more pleasant ways to convince you to behave yourself, for one thing.”
“Mm?” That barely-murmured sound was an invitation. Rafe couldn’t say the word behave without lust pooling low in my belly.
“We’re on a mission,” he chided me gently.
“Which means we should take every chance we have to make something of our time together.”
“Very convincing, Ms. Northsea.” He sounded amused.
“Oh no,
don’t you dare use that teacher scolding voice on me and then—”
“And then what?” He pressed me against the cold glass, his lips finding that spot on my throat again. Then his fingers swept up into my hair, drawing my head back against his shoulder, claiming my mouth with his.
Maybe he intended to follow through after all.
Rafe’s kisses now were fierce, and his fingers tangled in my hair tugged on my scalp in the best of ways. My lips parted, welcoming him in. I raised one hand to capture his cheek, feeling the faint stubble of his five o’clock shadow against my palm as he kissed me fiercely.
His hand between my thighs cupped my mound, then slid upward. I groaned in disappointment, and he smiled.
“Cruel,” I murmured.
He raised one brow. “You’ve never minded that before.”
He undid the top button on my jeans with deft fingers, and this time when his hand slid down my lower abs, his fingers skated over bare skin. When his fingers swept over my already aching mound, I let out a low moan.
He captured my lips with his, muffling the sound. His fingers kept strumming over my clit, although it was hard for his deft fingers to maneuver trapped between my skin and my panties, and after a second, he pulled away. His hands gripped the waistband of my jeans and yanked them down, leaving me suddenly naked from the waist down.
In the reflection of the window, I could see him behind me, his eyes sharp and intense no matter how slowly he took things. “Don’t tease me.”
“What do you want me to do?” he whispered against my skin. “Do you want me to fuck you?”
I let my head fall onto his shoulder as his hands glided over my thighs, thinking that the way my breath hitched was answer enough. He slid two fingers through my folds until he pressed the sensitive little bundle of nerves, and my back arched subtly.
He withdrew his fingers and popped them into his mouth, still watching me in the reflection. From the pleased look on his face, he savored my taste.
