Cage Me: A Wolf Shifter Romantasy (Immortal Vices and Virtues: Shadow Shifter Bonds Book 1)

Chapter 4

When I thought Spencer was trying to run from me, I assumed that would be the worst part of my day, but following her here, having her still keep me at arm’s length, then seeing what that little boy had to do…

With my wolf still being bound, I’m able to keep my deeper rage in check, but watching how Spencer shakes with a fury that also seems to be mixed with pain, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.

I wanted to save her from this sight when she thought it was those she cared about who had died, but this still isn’t good. At least, it doesn’t seem so by the pinched expression on her face.

The little boy she called Peter watches me even as he’s dragged away by his sister. I keep my emotions contained and nod at him, which makes him smile. Though, I’m not sure why.

The two go to their mother, and I watch as Spencer lifts her up and away from the corpse, forcing her up and into another room where I can no longer see them.

With the three of them out of sight, I decide just standing there isn’t who I am, but joining them doesn’t feel right, either.

Seeing the man that I know nothing about but can assume was a piece of shit right up until the moment he was killed by his own son, I decide to stay busy by disposing of the body for them.

In four long strides, I stand over the bloody mess. There are several holes in his torso and stomach, all turning his white t-shirt to crimson.

Reaching down, I grab one of his arms and begin to drag him back to the door we used to come into the house. I’m not sure where I’m going to put him, but anywhere outside has to be better than where he was.

Once I’m out the door, I toss the body onto the grass, then look for a shovel. This would be easier if I could shift and let my wolf dig the hole, but until I find that spiteful witch, I’m forced to figure things out in other ways.

While I miss being able to shift, it’s been so long since I’ve sensed him that I almost can’t remember what it’s like to be a true wolf shifter. When I was locked inside my own mind, I was completely isolated even from my inner beast. That alone had me feeling insane the moment the spell broke, but the thought of killing that witch before I truly lost myself to the madness kept me motivated.

Now, it’s Spencer.

I’d heard that the need to claim one’s mate could make a shadow shifter mad, and while I’m desperate for her, I wonder, if by not having access to my animal half, I’m able to keep the worst of my need at bay.

I chuckle to myself. How much more desperate or crazy could I get if I wasn’t cursed?

Potentially not feeling the full effects of the bond is likely a good thing when it comes to this woman, though. Something tells me Spencer wouldn’t appreciate a savage beast any more than she seems to a pleading man.

Still, her preference in being left alone isn’t going to happen.

I can’t let her go. There has to be a way to make her see that finding her mate is a good thing and I’m going to figure out how to do that. When I told her I wouldn’t force her hand, I meant it, but that doesn’t mean I won’t play dirty, either.

One look at her, the brief moments our skin has touched, the pain I can see hiding within the depths of her enchanting gaze… All of that made me know immediately that she’s worth fighting for. Yes, fate is at play here having created this magical connection, but it’s Spencer’s soul that calls to me, and I’m not willing to walk away from it.

“What are you doing?” a young voice asks.

Turning around, I find Peter standing there, still wearing his bloody clothes. “I’m looking for a shovel. Do you know where I might find one?”

He nods toward his father. “Are you going to bury him?”

“That’s the plan unless you have something else in mind,” I say, bending down to a knee so we’re nearly face-to-face.

His lips bunch together and eyes narrow slightly. “He wasn’t a good man, but he was still my dad.”

“So, you want to do something, but nothing too nice, right?”

Peter nods and shakes a finger. “Yeah, that.”

“Well, how about we bury him, but we don’t mark the grave,” I suggest, then gesture toward the trees. “The grass will grow over and nobody will ever know he’s there except us.”

The boy stares where I’d just pointed and seems to thoroughly consider my words. “That might be good. For nobody to know he’s there. I don’t want to get in trouble.”

My hand cups the boy’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t let that happen.”

And I mean the words sincerely. Even if Spencer forced a rejection on me, allowing this boy to suffer for defending himself isn’t something I’d stand for.

Not when I know what it feels like to be forsaken by a parent.

“You’re a nice man,” Peter says, a frown forming between his blue eyes. “I don’t know why Pence doesn’t like you.”

A deep chuckle escapes me. “It’s complicated.”

“Adult stuff always is.” He points to the corner of the house. “There should be a shovel over there somewhere.”

“Thanks.” I get up and head that way. When I see the garden tools piled up on the ground, I turn back to check on the boy and he’s poking around his father’s body. That has me grabbing the shovel and hurrying toward him, but by the time I’m back, Peter is standing up again.

“What were you doing?” I ask him, keeping my tone light.

“Taking anything that we might be able to trade,” he says. “Pence is going to want to run. That’s always been the plan.”

Hmm. Good to know. I’ll have to keep a closer eye on her.

“Do you want to pick where I dig the hole or want me to do it?” I ask, knowing that Peter deserves a chance to make this as right as possible in his mind.

His eyes go wide. “I can help?”

“Of course you can,” I tell him. “I’ll even show you how to use a shovel if you want.”

It’s been hundreds of years since I’ve picked one up, but I’m pretty sure I still remember.

He frowns, then looks at the ground instead of me. “I’ve never been allowed to touch Dad’s stuff.”

I bump his chin up lightly. “Well, that’s the fun part about starting over. You get to make new rules. And I think you learning how to use any tool that you want should be one of them.”

He nods, but there are still tears shining in his eyes. Instead of continuing to talk next to the corpse of his father, I grab his shoulder and direct him toward the trees beyond the yard. “Where should we dig?”

He looks around, seeming to inspect each one carefully before pointing between two large oaks. “Right there. In the fall, the ground is covered with leaves from the trees and it’s really fun to play in. Maybe Dad will like that in his next life.”

Poor fucking kid.

“You got it.” I hold the shovel and gesture toward the metal spade. “See these flat spots?” He nods. “That’s where you put pressure at with your foot. Watch me.”

The tip of the shovel goes smoothly into the earth, and I slam my boot down on the spot I just showed him. The ground lifts as I pull the handle back at the same time and then I toss it to the side, but the dirt falls nowhere near where I was intending it to.

I guess I still have a bit to relearn as well.

“That looks kind of fun,” Peter says, and I hand him the tool.

“Give it a try.”

His little hands wrap around the wooden handle as he lifts the shovel up and down, almost like he’s testing its weight. “I’m not?—”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Spencer’s voice cuts through the air, sharp and furious.

Peter promptly drops the shovel and spins toward his sister. “Nothing. I’m sorry.”

“You’re not in trouble,” I tell him softly. “I think I am.”

He looks up at me and grimaces. “Good luck. I’m out of here.”

The boy runs back toward the house, giving his sister a wide berth as she charges toward me. When she’s within touching distance, her palms shove at my chest. “I asked you a question.”

The growl in her words doesn’t bode well, but I stick with honesty.

“I was disposing of the body, so you didn’t have to worry about it.”

“By digging him a grave and giving my baby brother the memory of digging it himself?” She flings the words accusingly at me. “What is wrong with you?”

I might be desperate, but I’m not an idiot and she’s going to learn that one way or another. Steadying my stance, I lean over her, encroaching on her personal space as I bring my face as close as I can get to hers while still looking her in the eye.

“I was thinking that maybe giving his father a proper burial might ease some of the guilt he will undoubtedly feel later,” I say, seething with quiet rage. “And to remind him that no matter how bad of a person his father was, we can still show our humanity.”

“Well…” she starts but doesn’t finish.

“Well what, Spencer?” I taunt, my tone still dark. “Well, maybe I’m not the worthless man you wish for me to be? That if you’d quit being so fucking stubborn that you might see I’m a worthy mate instead of judging and rejecting me without giving me a chance?”

“I didn’t judge you,” she says, crossing her arms and maintaining her defiance.

“But you did reject me for no reason.”

Her lips thin and her eyes narrow, but I refuse to back down, even when she says, “I’m right and you know it.”

I start to shake my head as she throws her hands up in the air with a huff. Spencer seems intent on running from me again, but I’m not letting her go. Not yet.

“We’re not done with this conversation,” I tell her as I move to block her steps. “You need to admit that you have no reason to reject me.”

“I have every reason,” she screams in my face. “They’re right there in that house. My family needs me, and I’ve spent the last three years fighting to give them something better than this!”

“And you think you have to do that by yourself?” I ask, because if that’s her only reason, I know all is not lost.

“I don’t have to, but I want to,” she says, her voice lowering back to normal. “You aren’t part of the plan, Drake.”

“But I’m your mate.”

“And we see how well that worked out for my mom.” This time she sounds defeated, and all I want to do is hold her in my arms, promising that her mother’s experience isn’t normal—at least not where I’m from—but I’m learning more about my mate with every word she speaks.

She doesn’t need promises. She needs actions.

“Give me a chance to show you differently,” I say, reaching for her hand. The moment our skin touches, an energy passes through us, and for the first time in nearly one thousand years, I hear a growl in my mind. One that is not my own.

Without thinking, I release her to rip my shirt over my head with one hand and press the other over my chest where the magical tattoo of my wolf rests. Heat rises from the black ink, and I close my eyes, but whatever brief connection I just felt to him, it’s gone as swiftly as it came.

“What the hell are you doing?” Spencer asks. When I look back at her, confusion mars her perfect face.

“My wolf. I felt him.”

Her eyes roll. “Do you think you deserve praise for that?”

“If you knew what I’ve been through, then you wouldn’t have to ask that question.”

The back door of the house opens and closes loudly, the noise causing both of us to glance that way.

Spencer’s mother is walking toward us and her light-blue eyes, much like Spencer’s, are glowing.

“Mom? What is it?” Spencer demands but doesn’t move from where she’s standing next to me.

I slip my shirt back on, then watch as her mother doesn’t stop until she’s standing in front of me and placing her hand over my chest, right where I’d just been touching. “So much pain,” she murmurs softly.

Well, this is new.

Her eyes stop glowing a second later and instead of addressing me again, she pulls her hands back and turns back to Spencer. “You need to help him.”

“The hell I do,” she retorts. “I need to get you and Peter out of here.”

Her mom grabs both of her hands and smiles. “And you will, but he comes, too, or I’m not going anywhere.”

Spencer’s mouth pops open and closed several times before she mutters, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Well, this just got even more interesting.