by H. D. Gordon
But I was not quite naïve enough to consider the possibility that there might be someone who would want to strike back because of our actions, so I gave the answer that I could reasonably stand behind, as I did not lie to Kyra. Perhaps to others, and sometimes even to myself, but not to her.
“I hope so,” I said.
Though I told myself this was not a lie, the look the Sorceress gave me revealed that she wasn’t quite sure she believed me.
A week passed, and there was no word from anyone in the Ward camp. Word that had spread was of what I’d done, and the consensus seemed to be that Dita Silvers was a Wolf that should not be crossed. I wanted to feel some sort of pride at this, but every time any would rise up, so would the image of Paisley Ward, and gone would be any satisfaction I might have had.
I knew that the news was being passed, and that the action had taken me to a different level of esteem than I’d previously held, because people were quick to avert their eyes when I passed. Some even crossed to the other side of the street when I was in Cerys doing business. Even Angelo Mangera was more respectful, continuing our business with a reverence that he’d scarcely afforded me before. When I had a meeting with him, his greasy goons did not sneer and scour me with their gazes. They did not flash Wolfish grins or run their tongues out suggestively over their lips.
Fear. That was what people felt when I came near. I told myself that this was necessary, that every Alpha needed those among them to feel a certain amount of it, and especially an Alpha that was female. I told myself I was comfortable with it, that I even liked it to some degree. I told myself that it was what I wanted.
One finds that if they repeat something enough times, letting the thought circulate and take root, it becomes true, even if the seed planted was not entirely upstanding.
Even within my own Pack, I felt a shift. No one spoke on it, of course, but it was as palpable as a coming summer storm on the air, an alteration in atmosphere that even the blind would detect.
I told myself that this was just as well, too, as it would serve to quell dissent.
Elian did not visit me. He didn’t reach out. At first, I’d felt justified in my treatment of him, deciding that he’d been out of line for trying to tell me how to live my life. But as the days wore on, and still he did not come to me, something else began to seep into my mind, a feeling of sadness and loss that I was too afraid to probe too deeply.
I didn’t need the Demon, I reminded myself. I’d got on fine without him for the vast majority of my life. What did it matter if he didn’t want to see me anymore? What did I care?
Apparently, however, I did care, because on one of the evenings when sleep would not find me—and I’d been having more and more of those as of late—I found myself wandering down the canal near his loft. My feet took me to his door twice that evening, but before I could raise my hand and knock, my pride carried me away again.
Perhaps the path I’d chosen was one that insisted upon being walked alone, and I knew that if I could just resist the urge to see him that time would eventually dull my affections. That, I decided, was what I really wanted. I wanted to regain the cold heart that had somehow warmed along the way. I didn’t want to feel anything. I wished for only the numbness that I’d once held so close.
That was how I found myself in the back room of one of my many taverns in Cerys, pressed against the wall by some handsome stranger, just short of drunk on shine and letting my body make decisions. This was not like sex with Elian. If I was being honest, no sex was like that with Elian, but it was enough to take my mind off the ache of missing him. Because whether I wanted to admit it or not, I did miss him, and I was slowly growing bitter with my own self about it.
So I gripped the back of the Wolf I’d decided to let have my body for the evening, digging my nails into the skin there, tossing my head back and staring up at the ceiling. He grunted and placed sloppy kisses on my neck, his hands gripping my backside as he pushed himself into me. When we were done, I tossed him his pants and tipped my head toward the door. With a dazed look on his face, he dressed and exited.
I hoped I would never see him again.
I sat in that back storeroom for a little while and lit myself a cigarette, even though smoking was not one of my usual habits. As I watched the smoke curl up toward the ceiling, I allowed myself to wonder for not the first time just what the fuck was happening to me. I was afraid to admit that I wanted to turn back, but knew with some certainty that the bridges I’d crossed to get here had long burned behind me.
And, thus, the days dragged onward. Kyra and the ladies made the shine, and I sold it to the other Alphas, expanding my reach as word of my exploits and ambitions cut across the continent.
When I was feeling particularly low, it was the twins and Little Demarco I would turn to, burying myself in the task of rearing them, helping them with studies, brushing out the kinks in their hair, making sure they bathed and brushed their teeth. They soon became the only joy to be found among the chaos that had become my life, for even Kyra and Devon had drawn away from me, a wall appearing between us that had not existed before.
Surprisingly, it was Delia who came to me one evening to inquire about my wellbeing. Ever since I’d beaten up the father of her child (I still thought the son of a bitch had deserved it, and indeed, he had run off shortly after the child was born) things had been strained between us. But she joined me on the rooftop of the house one night, where I’d taken to sleeping so that I could watch over the property. My nerves had not allowed me to slumber elsewhere in what seemed like ages.
My boots were dangling over the edge of the roof, my revolvers laid out atop my lap, the stars and moon staring down from above, when I heard someone approach behind me. A deep inhalation brought me her scent, and I patted the spot beside me. After a moment, Delia approached and sat next to me. We were silent for a time, looking out at the grounds below.
Then I felt her eyes shift to me, heard her clear her throat. “You okay, D?” she asked.
I hadn’t heard such concern from her on my behalf for longer than I could remember, and the sound of it made my chest swell. I was glad to be feeling something other than anxiety and depression.
I turned to face her. “Of course,” I said.
Delia eyed me, but fell silent again for a while. Then, she said, “You don’t have to lie to me.” She jerked her chin toward the various Wolves roaming the grounds. “Lie to them, but not to me.”
Even as she said this, another lie was forming on my lips, so I swallowed it back, realizing how very much I wanted to share my burden with someone. “I…I don’t know,” I answered.
“I heard what you did,” Delia said. “To the Wards, for what they did to our father. I…I’ve been meaning to thank you.”
I would not have been more surprised if Delia had sprouted wings and took off flying. I looked over at her now, swallowing away the tightness in my throat.
“I killed them,” I said quietly. “In front of everyone they loved. In front of children. I shouldn’t be thanked for that.”
The passion with which her words returned took me aback once again. “You did what had to be done,” my little sister said. “You could not let what happened to dad stand. The debt had to be repaid, otherwise, others would have seen the weakness and come for us. They would have torn us to shreds. The Wards…they were not innocent or noble males. This world is no worse off without them.” She paused before adding. “I’m proud of you.”
My eyes started to burn, but I blinked away any gathering moisture and slipped an arm around my little sister, drawing her close. She leaned her head against my shoulder. I breathed in her familiar scent, more grateful to her than she would ever know for her kind words, even if I did not deserve them.
“It might not be over,” I whispered. “There might be more to come.”
Delia nodded, as if she was quite sure of this. “And you’ll handle it as it does.” She met my eyes, hers the same color as our lost mother’s,
and just as fierce. “Kill anyone who would threaten us. If it’s a choice between us or them, you make sure we come out on top. That’s all there is to do now.”
I saw in her eyes that she meant these words—she meant them very much, and I wished I could adopt the same resolve. Part of me wondered at how my ruthless nature had seeped into her, how my own corruption was something like a virus, a thing that spread and claimed others, as it had clearly done my little sister.
I kissed her forehead and sent her to bed, feeling more like a failure for all my victories than perhaps I ever had before.
Chapter 13
“Still nothing?” I asked.
The Shifter raised a brow at me, watching me in that way I’d become accustomed to, like she wanted to strip me of my clothing and do unspeakable things to me.
“Still nothing,” she affirmed. “I think it’s safe to conclude that you have cowed any dissent, any backlash. The other Wolves are afraid of you. Congratulations.”
“There’s no one in the Ward camp that could be planning attack?” I pressed.
Mila snorted. “The Ward camp is pretty much nonexistent. Most of the Wolves deserted after you killed the Alpha and his kin. The ones who stuck around are only doing so until they can make other arrangements.”
I had to clear my throat before I could ask the next question. “And the girls? Paisley and the two others?”
Mila raised a brow but didn’t voice whatever thought aroused it. “I transferred the money into the account, made the arrangements. They’ll be taken care of.”
I nodded.
Mila watched me for a moment before taking her leave, shifting into bird form, claiming the air, and flapping out of sight.
I knew what she was wondering at; the fact that I’d insisted on ensuring the maintenance of the Ward girls after so brutally upending their world. It wasn’t that I regretted the decision, or that I could have done differently. I told myself that it wasn’t guilt, either. It was just a decent thing to do, and that was all there was to it.
I shifted into my Wolf form after the Shifter’s departure, and decided a run through the woods on my land might do me a little good. It had been a while since I’d made the transformation and prowled about in the name of fun, and I found my Wolf had been itching to get out and run and hunt.
The woods on the plantation were the perfect place for this, and since the day was another unseasonably pleasant one, I spent a good portion of it doing just that. I snuck through the underbrush, raced over through the meadows, caught the scent of a bunny and devoured the poor creature in three bites.
For whatever reason, however, the animal’s blood tasted bitter on my tongue, similar to that of the Ward family’s when theirs had sprayed my face and gotten into the creases of my lips. Normally, the taste of blood made a Wolf all the more bloodthirsty, and not for the first time, I wondered if something weren’t wrong with me.
When I returned to the house later that evening, all was silent. I supposed some part of me was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. I shifted back into my mortal form and took a shower, glad to wash the bunny’s blood from my face and don clean clothing. When I padded downstairs afterward, I found Devon in the foyer with Kyra, a suitcase at his feet.
I paused upon seeing this, something in my chest clenching, though I would not give movement or voice to it.
The two of them saw me standing on the staircase, and I heard Devon release a low sigh. I descended the stairs and crossed over to them. “What’s going on?” I asked.
Kyra looked to Devon. Devon shrugged. “Nothing really,” my older brother said. “Just getting away for a few days to clear my head.”
When I only stared at him, he added. “I’ll be back.”
There was nothing I could say to this, so I pulled him into a quick hug and gave his shoulder a squeeze. Then I nodded.
I tried not to let it reach me, but my teeth gritted when I witnessed the difference in embrace that he shared with Kyra. He lingered in her arms a little longer, held her gaze after, nodding solemnly when she told him to return to us safely. Apparently, when I’d been otherwise occupied, the two of them had grown closer than I’d realized, and though I told myself that I was not the jealous and petty type, the feelings rose up, nonetheless.
With this, Devon let out a final sigh, stooped to grab his suitcase, and exited through the front door. Kyra and I moved into the sitting room and watched through the window as he climbed in a waiting carriage and trundled out of sight.
“Is he okay?” I asked the Sorceress.
Kyra lifted her shoulders once and dropped them with a heavy exhale. Her violet eyes flicked over to me. “Are any of us?” she returned.
I watched her exit as she left me standing in the sitting room, trying to make sense of the mess inside my heart and head. It was strange, because I was standing in the middle of a great home filled with all kinds of people, in the center of a vast land held with my name, and crawling with Wolves who knelt to the same.
And, yet, in that moment, with the lingering goodbye from my brother and the exit of my best friend, I’d never felt more alone in all my life.
“That’s quite the order, Mr. Mangera,” I said, leaning back in my seat and folding my hands neatly atop my lap. “May I inquire as to why you’re in need of such influx?”
Angelo Mangera watched me with the same steady gaze with which he’d always regarded, but with a certain wariness that hadn’t been there before. He held the silence just a moment too long before answering.
“Lots of celebrations coming up,” he said. “And with the coming of the winter, more people want the shine to keep their bellies warm.”
I nodded, noting the vagueness of this answer, but supposing it should do. I leaned forward and offered my hand across the table between us. “All right. I’ll have it ready by the requested date.”
Angelo took my hand into his, and the squeezing to assert one’s dominance commenced. Once it was done, I slipped out of the restaurant with Gio following on my heels. I’d much rather Devon was with me, for obvious reasons, but as he was not an option, I’d been forced to bring Gio along.
Even though Gio had been part of Carson Cartier’s Pack before coming to mine, he’d proven himself thus far to be a loyal Wolf. He was stoic and short with words, and with gray eyes and a face more stately than handsome, he was easy to be around. He asked no questions about the meeting with Mangera, only awaited whatever orders I would give.
I could use a dozen more like him, I thought, as we strolled up the street toward our awaiting carriage. We were almost there when a figure jumped in front of me, so quickly that I could scarcely think to react. It took me far too long to realize who it was, and what she was doing. In reality, it was only a half handful of seconds, but that was long enough.
Paisley Ward, dressed in all black, with a dagger clutched in her delicate hand, came leaping toward me. I caught a flash of her pale face, teeth gritted in anger, eyes shining with hatred, before the blade made a slice for my throat. The crafty girl might have gotten me good, too, except for the fact that Gio had been paying more attention than I had, and he caught Paisley around the waist, yanking her away from me before she could do any real damage.
As it was, the tip of her blade sliced down the front of my jacket, scraping the material.
“I’m going to kill this fucking bitch!” Paisley howled as she struggled in Gio’s arms.
But Gio was much larger, much stronger, and he wrenched the dagger from her hand with little effort. It clattered to the street as Paisley’s eyes glowed Wolf-gold with the burning rage of a thousand suns.
I stood there staring as the realization of her failure crashed over her, my face smooth and my demeanor cool while my heart raced in my chest. Her shoulders slumped and her head fell forward, her messy hair falling into her face. I immediately determined that I preferred the murderous version over the dejected and defeated Paisley that took her place.
She sobbed now as sh
e spoke. “You took everything from me,” she said. “Everyone I loved. If there are hells, I pray to the Gods that that’s where you go.”
I swallowed, aware that we’d caused a bit of commotion out here on the street in the middle of Cerys, but as it was kind of late at night, there weren’t too many witnesses around. A small blessing, as I didn’t need any extra proof of who and what I was; the people were already well enough afraid of me.
In my head, Gio spoke, his arms still tight around the girl, pinning her arms at her side, holding her upright. “What do you want me to do with her, boss?” he asked.
I knew what he was asking. The girl had made an attempt on my life, and if I wanted him to kill her for it, he would. I debated for only a few moments, knowing that such decisions had a way of setting one down a path they don’t realize they’ve been treading until it’s far too late to turn back.
Then again, I thought, perhaps I’d already long travelled that road.
“Let her go,” I said. “She can’t hurt me.”
Gio paused for a moment, as this clearly was not the answer he’d expected. Had my reputation become such that my own Wolves thought I would kill a girl who was little more than a child without an ounce of thought? Or did he just know that loose ends such as leaving Paisley Ward alive had a way of coming back and biting you in the rear end?
I didn’t know. I didn’t ask.
Gio released Paisley, shoving her away from us and scooping up the dagger she’d dropped before tucking it into his boot.
Paisley stood on the street a moment, staring daggers at me. I tilted my head at her and kept my voice low, but plenty loud enough for her to hear me.
“Next time,” I said, “I’ll kill you myself. Do yourself a favor, girl, take the money that was left to you, take your cousin and sister, and leave this place. Find a new life, a new home. There’s nothing left for you here but death and heartache.”
So much was communicated in the look Paisley gave me then, so much emotion without a single word to voice it. For a flash, I saw her as I had on the day of her priming ceremony, happy and beautiful—and then horrified and shocked, the blood of her kin marring her dress and face, and for all the hatred she felt towards me, I matched it in hatred for myself.
