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The force of Carly’s jump dislodged the rack from the wall. Metal legs tilted precariously. Cans rattled. Then, almost in slow motion, the rack and all of its contents tumbled down upon Carl’s head.
He wasn’t mortally wounded. I could tell that from the roar of rage, only partially muffled by cans of chicken broth and green beans that surrounded him. Perhaps that’s why Victor ignored his newly rebuilt partnership and snapped out an order to the shifters who called Carl boss.
“Find my cousin now.”
Whatever Victor’s reasoning, the three armed men ignored him. Instead, they dove into the pile of rubble as a unit. Apparently, external alliances paled in the face of danger to a downed leader.
Victor’s response to being ignored was deep and guttural. He took a step toward the door—padlocked, I could see now. Who had the key? One of Carl’s goons? Victor wasn’t getting out that way any more than I was.
He and I both turned to consider the window Carly had wriggled out. The window with no rack beneath it. The window far too small to allow an adult human to pass through.
And an adult wolf? I hoped not. Still, Victor took a step forward...only to be interrupted by his grandmother’s suggestion.
“Bite the woelfin.” Aunt May’s words weren’t an order the way Victor’s had been. Instead, they were soft and soothing. How a pack princess learned to speak when she needed to bend stronger pack mates to her will, perhaps?
Either way, her grandson listened as she laid out a plan. “Carl’s men will catch up to Carly once they’re done with their cuddle pile. A pack princess won’t make it far alone in the city. We need to consolidate what we have left.”
For two different reasons, Aunt May and I were on the same wavelength. If I couldn’t escape, then my goal had to be slowing pursuit to give Carly time to reach my sister.
So when Victor reached out to grab me, I let him. When his teeth lengthened into canine fangs, I didn’t flinch away.
“Do you willingly submit to this mating, Honor Warren?” Victor asked, his words slurred by the enlarged dentition. His breath turned the air around my neck into a whirlwind of cinnamon.
I opened my mouth...and Luke spoke in my mind as strong and clear as if I hadn’t been flailing around in search of this connection for the better part of a day now. “Please don’t, Honor.”
Was that all I’d needed to reopen our line of communication? Let a pack mate breathe on my scar as a supernatural power boost?
For a split second, warmth filled my belly. Luke and I could still have everything I’d hoped for. Standing up to him, asserting my independence—neither was a deal breaker. As he’d promised, there was still a chance to find a middle ground between woelfin and werewolf.
But Carly came first. And I had to do this to save her.
So I didn’t take the time to apologize or explain my reasoning. Instead, I rattled off cross streets for the location where Luke’s niece would end up if she’d followed my instructions. “Find her. Help her,” I demanded.
Aloud, I merely said, “Yes, Victor. I submit.”
***
VICTOR’S BITE WAS NOTHING like the throbbing of my feet and the relentless burn that seared down my side and across my belly. No, it was far, far worse.
Because the tearing of teeth into flesh came with a connection to a mind similar yet dissimilar to Luke’s. The bite sucked me down into a whirlpool of Victor’s memories with no ability to claw my way free.
“This will all be yours one day.” Aunt May peered down at us—at Victor—from such a height she might as well have been a giant. “You must be strong and smart and bide your time.”
We evaded her searching gaze in order to consider the pack. They were torn and soiled by the old alpha’s mismanagement. Mamaw was right. We could do better.
We nodded our pint-sized head.
“I was born to be alpha,” we said, repeating words we’d heard dozens of times now. “You’ll be proud of us, Mamaw. Just wait and see.”
“I know I will.” Her hand on our head was a benediction. Something warm and fierce in our belly awoke.
Time passed, flickering by in pockets of memory. We won fights among our age mates. Led hunts and always made the kill, sometimes through prowess and sometimes through subterfuge. Grew tall and powerful until our words were heeded not only by the young, but also by the old.
The pack almost healed, once, twice, many times. But healing would mean they didn’t need a new alpha. Healing would rend our special bond with our grandmother in two.
So we didn’t let the pack heal. And, one day, something broke. In the clan. In our leader.
“I’m done waiting,” we told our grandmother. She was shorter or we were taller. Either way, our stomach tightened with anger, our hands clenching into fists. “Look at this. This is heresy.”
We’d been trying to avert our gaze from the awfulness, but Mamaw wouldn’t let us. Instead, our eyes followed hers back to the body lying atop crumpled sheets. Our father. His throat ripped out and blood coagulating beneath his bare human ass.
There’d been no fair fight. No public challenge. Instead, our father had been murdered in his bed, in his sleep, like a prey animal too insignificant to be offered a fair fight.
Pack rot. Not just from underlings, but from the alpha.
“If you challenge the pack leader now, you’ll die and the pack will die with you,” Aunt May advised. “I’ll tell you when the time is right.”
Then, the moment finally arrived. Hot air slick against a sweaty brow. The scent of the old alpha’s blood seeping into damp soil as we followed his trail through the forest.
All we had to do was find him and kill him. The time had come for a new alpha. We’d take a mate, excise the rot, finally allow the clan to heal.
Our stomach leapt with anticipation. Only to fall as Luke—the prodigal cousin—materialized out of nowhere to steal our rightful inheritance.
“I was born to be alpha,” Victor growled aloud around the blood streaming down my neck, slicking red the hollow between my breasts. Despite the gore, he wasn’t a complete monster. He’d been manipulative and manipulated, but at least half of his intention had been protecting his family. He’d spent far more time fixing than breaking his pack.
Understanding roiled like bad meat in my gut. Our gazes met and Victor nodded, smearing blood across his cheek as he wiped his chin.
“With you as mate, I will be unbeatable,” he intoned. “Our pack will be unbeatable.”
I swallowed, the dim cellar swimming around me. Thrust out of Victor’s memories, the present had gone watery and dreamlike.
Perhaps because I didn’t smell like myself. I was no longer enfolded in cinnamon. Instead, even without my pelt, I could smell it...feel it.
I stunk of road tar and raw liver. Victor’s scent. Mine now also.
Closing my eyes, I let the darkness eat me up.