Chapter Eleven #2
I have two choices—pull over and order them out of the vehicle, leaving them to their fate, or accept responsibility and warn them of the danger that will come.
Fuck!
I tighten my hands on the steering wheel.
The metal groans in protest, bending slightly, and I immediately ease my grip.
The last thing I need is for the wheel to snap and the vehicle to careen off into the ditch.
Most of us would probably survive, but I can’t take the chance that the wolves would catch up with us while we’re injured.
I inhale deeply, gathering my courage. The moon disappears behind the clouds, an omen, and I stare into the darkness with a sense of hopelessness that has my shoulders slumping in defeat. “Wolves have different designations—alpha, beta, omega.”
“Omegas are virtually nonexistent,” Garth says, a furrow between his brows. “Many believe that they’re fairy tales.”
“Are you saying you are an omega?” Tyler asks softly, concern darkening his green eyes. Beneath his worry, the hint of awe is impossible to miss.
I snort at the absurdity, and Garth rolls his eyes, answering for me. “While an omega can exert some influence over an alpha if they were mated, she wouldn’t be able to manipulate a whole pack that way. Isn’t that right?”
He never once takes his eyes off me as he speaks. Something about his intensity has my stomach fluttering. The sensible part of me says it’s because he’s a threat, but something deeper whispers it’s a lot more complicated.
Some of my reactions could be explained away by attraction, but I fear it’s more than that.
Attraction can be pushed aside and ignored.
Whatever is between the two of us is like an itch under my skin that I can’t reach.
I worry the longer we remain in close proximity to each other, the worse it will get.
Late at night, when he’s had too many drinks, Gramps would often recount how he met his mate, Marion.
The longing and sadness in his tone as he recounted the heartbreaking tale has my throat aching.
The attraction was instantaneous for both of them.
Unfortunately, being fated mates doesn’t automatically mean happiness.
In Kyperian, the council would often select mates based on their strength and political advantages.
Money also moved you up the list. It took years for Gramps and his fellow pack members to climb the ranks.
They kept quiet about being fated, knowing it would only put them on the council’s radar.
If the truth got out, the chances of having an “accident” while working would increase.
Can’t have shifters thinking they have any say in the breeding selection.
It would cause a revolt and shift the delicate balance of power in Kyperian.
They would rather exterminate all shifters than allow that to happen.
Shaking off my foolish thoughts, I concentrate on keeping the car on the road. “No, you’re right—I’m not an omega.”
My life would be so much easier if that were the case.
“Before I tell you anything, you have a choice to make. Knowledge is dangerous. The more you know about me, the more it will put you at risk.” I avoid the main highways, forking through the country roads, vaguely recalling the map I glanced at when I filled the car with gas.
It’s imperative that I put as much space between me and the incident as possible. Unfortunately, I don’t have the luxury of time. Every second could be the difference between life and death with the Orion on my trail.
I need to find a way to ditch the guys.
As much as it pains me, they are a distraction I can’t afford.
“I’ll take you to the edge of the territory, but that’s where we part ways.” The words taste like ash on my tongue, but I refuse to be swayed by the irrational yearning to remain with them.
A growl rumbles from the three alphas in the back seat, each of them glaring at me, but I won’t be intimidated. I won’t compromise their safety. Part of me wishes I had never agreed to supper, but the thought of not being there when the wolves attacked sends a shiver down my spine.
I very much fear they wouldn’t have survived, not without severe injury.
The pack wants to make an example of them.
“You’re in danger,” Garth says, his blue eyes shimmering as his wolf pushes forward. “We’re not going anywhere.”
I roll my eyes at his macho attitude.
Just because he’s an alpha, he thinks he can fix anything.
That sentiment will get him killed.
I glance at him in the rearview mirror and raise a single brow. “If it were as simple as being an alpha, don’t you think I could’ve taken care of it myself?”
He narrows his eyes at the challenge, a stubborn glint entering his blue gaze. “Then tell us and let us decide our own future.”
Bossy asshole.
“Maybe start with who the fuck this guy is first?” Dante glares at the Orion seated next to me.
I should be pleased to see the man draped in chains.
Oddly enough, I both love and hate it, and an odd sensation squirms in my chest when an image of the man bound and kneeling at my feet flashes in my head.
Heat stings my cheeks, and I know the naughty fantasy will live forever in the dark recesses of my mind.
While he might be the enemy, he’s sexy as fuck.
Unfortunately, he is an Orion.
Though neutralized, I don’t make the mistake of believing he’s not a threat.
For the first time since I shoved him into the car, my gaze flicks toward my captive, and I’m distracted by the silver devil. Something about the unwavering way he gazes at me has the hair lifting on the back of my neck, like he can see into my very soul.
He doesn’t speak, doesn’t fight the restraints.
He just stares.
It’s unnerving.
No doubt, he’s plotting my death.
Disliking the sensation of being so exposed, I glance away, then deflate against my seat. What the fuck was I thinking to bring him with us? The events of the day have me questioning my sanity. If I were smart, I would rip out his throat and toss him out of the car.
Yet I find the very thought abhorrent.
Givvens did his best to beat any compassion out of me, recognizing it’s a weakness that will get me killed.
Humanizing my prisoner is a bad idea, but I can’t discount the stray thought that he was just doing his job.
I’m left debating how much to tell the others.
I should force them to forget me, it’s the most logical thing to do, but my conscience won’t allow it.
Just because I remove any memory of me doesn’t mean they still won’t be in danger.
No, I need to tell them enough that they are aware of the danger, but not so much that they get suspicious. It’s a fine line. Lying never crosses my mind.
“I’m—”
“A criminal,” the Orion interrupts, his silver eyes burning into the side of my face.
I snort so loudly that I nearly choke, a smirk dancing on my lips. “Depends on who you ask. Is just being alive now considered a crime? Why don’t you enlighten us and tell the group what egregious misdeeds I committed?”
The big man shrugs, the shift of chains clinking in the silence, not the least bit bothered by my objection. “That’s not my business. I’m charged with collecting and returning you to face trial.”
My eyebrows hike up at his complete apathy, and I shoot him a look of disgust. “Just another one of their minions. They say jump, and you don’t bother asking how high, not even checking whether it’s to your death.”
The prisoner doesn’t bother to deny it, and I almost feel sorry for the brainwashed idiot.
“What crime did you commit?” Dante asks, and I snort in derision.
“No asking if I’m innocent or if I was framed?” I pin him under my glare. “You’re taking his word for it?”
I’m not angry or annoyed. I’m…hurt, which pisses me off.
Dante chuckles, the asshat not the least bit repentant. “Do I believe you would do whatever it takes to survive? Abso-fucking-lutely.” He leans forward, amusement gleaming in his eyes. “What did you do, kitten?”
“She killed the old man who took her in as an orphan and raised her from a child. She slaughtered him in cold-blood before fleeing justice.” His voice is a rough growl, barely audible above the rumble in his chest.
Tears burn the back of my eyes at the mention of Gramps, and I swallow hard, focusing on the blurry road in front of me and not the grief trying to consume me.
“No protests?” He taunts, his voice harsh, his chains grinding as he leans forward. “No claims of innocence?”
His soft tone breaks something in me, and I slam on the brakes, the car fishtailing so hard that we nearly tip into the ditch. The pressure on my chest is so heavy that the effort to breathe is a struggle.
It’s too much, and the block in my mind shatters, bringing back the horrors of that night—being forced to leave him behind, watching as they hacked him to pieces. I had hoped that, by some miracle, he might have survived.
That hope is the only thing that has kept me moving.
To have it yanked away so brutally shatters my fragile peace. Metal creaks as the wheel under my hand bends, the brittle metal cracking, bits crumbling away in my fingers, but I can’t seem to release my hold. If I let go, I’m afraid my grief will finally drag me into its dark embrace.
“Hey, pretty girl, breathe with me.” Tyler leans over the back seat so far that he’s practically crawling over it. “In for five seconds. Hold it. Out for five seconds.”
He repeats the mantra for nearly three minutes, and I do my best to shore up the cracks in my psyche.
When I glance outside the windshield, I blink and try to figure out what I’m seeing.
It’s raining, which isn’t what surprises me.
It’s that the raindrops have reversed directions.
Instead of falling, they’re rising from the puddles in the road.
Tiny rocks are vibrating on the gravel road, slowly levitating.
Twenty feet in every direction, rocks are floating about five feet high, like gravity ceased to exist. That’s when I notice the car tilting a little drunkenly, shuddering under my grip.
I cock my head, the view almost looking like we’re floating underwater… without the water?
That’s when I see the blue haze of my power surrounding everything.
I’m doing this…somehow.
That breaks the spell. Before I have a chance to process anything, my magic vanishes, and everything drops to the ground. Rocks rain from the sky, while the water pours down with the force of a lake being dumped on us.
Maybe I’m not far off, because I swear I see a fish wiggling in the middle of the road.
The vehicle lands hard, creaking loudly in complaint when it slams back into the earth with a resounding bang.
The jolt rattles my bones and tears a grunt from me.
A heavy feeling weighs down my limbs, the gravity twice as strong, and I realize I must have been floating as well.
The only thing that kept me in my seat was my seat belt.
I slowly peel my hands off the steering wheel, as if what happened was as simple as pressing a button in the car.
Almost afraid of what I will find, I glance in the back seat.
Tyler is scrambling to pick himself off the floor, rubbing a hand along his ribs.
Garth still has a hand pressed against the roof, while Dante grips the door handle.
His eyes are wide, but he’s not really panicking.
Dante has his nose lifted in the air, like he’s trying to catch a scent of something.
His slate eyes gleam like metal reflecting in the darkness, indicating his beast is in full control.
I expect to find fear in his expression, but when he catches me staring, he smiles at me with too many teeth in his mouth.
They’re not exactly fangs, and I tilt my head, trying to process what I’m seeing.
No, actually, they’re too many fangs.
Static from his creature brushes over me like a caress. Something old and primordial peers back, something that hunts for its prey in the darkness…and his sights are set on me. Yet, I don’t get the impression he means me harm, more like he’s excited to see me.
I should be freaked out, but something about his pleasure at the chaos I created is almost childlike with wonder. Whatever creature he harbors, it’s not a wolf like he pretended. His movements were a little too fast, a little too…bendy? Is that a word?
Staring at him, I swear I can feel his creature reaching for me, the brush of his claws against my cheek so light that I shiver at the touch.
Then he blinks, wrestling back control, rearing away from me like I’m the monster…which I guess I am.
He just doesn’t know it.
“Did I kill him?” Each word is like razor blades slicing my throat. “I might not have held the blade, but it’s because of me that he died—he died protecting me. I didn’t want to leave, but he ordered me to go. I had hoped he survived…”
My voice cracks, the air around me shimmering with warning, and I do my best to wrestle my emotions into the vault in the back of my mind. Tyler pats his chest, inhaling deeply, and I do my best to mimic him. The air seems thin, like my lungs are trying to breathe underwater.
Just as black dots dance in my vision, Garth swears, then lunges across the seat. Instead of feeling fangs tearing into my neck, he grabs my nape and kisses me. He forces his tongue between my lips and takes possession of my mouth, dominating the kiss in a way that makes thinking impossible.