Chapter 15
Remy
I’ve been running through the streets of Chicago for hours, just trying to clear my head.
I don’t have time for this. I need to go see Jaxton. I need to meet up with my brothers. There could be survivors at the cathedral who still need our help. Regardless, we need to clean it up so that it doesn’t look like a vampire blood bank.
But all I can think about is Ansley.
I only saw her for a matter of minutes. Barely talked to her.
Something still lingers. Her sweet voice.
Her beautiful brown eyes. I bet they light up when she smiles.
She’s fucking gorgeous, and I’m not the type to fall head-over-paws for anyone.
Human. Scion. I don’t even think a she-wolf would have turned my head unless she was my mate.
This feels primal, raw, like everything inside me screams for her.
Like she’s meant to be mine. Like she’s my mate.
But that’s impossible. Hayden feels a pull towards her.
If she’s anyone’s mate, she’s his. He’s our Alpha.
Our kind mate for life, and only with one she-wolf.
We never fucking share. It violates everything we know.
That still doesn’t change how I feel.
I push myself harder, my paws pounding against the pavement as I race through an alley.
Physical exertion should help. It always does when I feel the brokenness inside me, crying out for a mate I’ll never find.
But tonight, nothing Is working. Every time I close my eyes, I see her face.
Her scent lingers on my breath, just because I was close to her.
“No,” I growl, skidding to a stop in an abandoned parking lot.
I’m panting. Being reckless. I’m not even keeping to the shadows like I normally do, and that’s my specialty. My wolf’s specialty. My fur is jet black, no trace of charcoal like Hayden’s. It barely reflects light until I’m standing underneath it.
“I have to get ahold of myself,” I pant.
This is insane. She’s Hayden’s mate. My Alpha’s mate. She’ll be the Alpha Female of our Pack, even if she isn’t a wolf. That’s how the hierarchy always works. How it’s worked for generations that go back further than written history.
Something isn’t right. I can’t shake this off. Whatever Ansley is, she’s shaking the foundation of everything I know. We’ve been unable to mate since the last she-wolf died. I still carry that pain inside me like a scar. A scar that will never heal.
“I can’t run around in circles all night,” I growl. “There’s more at stake than whatever has my head in a mess right now. I need to go see Jaxton.”
I don’t really want to go see Jaxton. I was happy when Hayden said he’d take care of it. I grunt with frustration, look up at the stars, and stifle the howl that tries to build in my throat before I break into a sprint.
Howling, like running through the streets of Chicago without the cover of darkness, is dangerous. It’s hard to confuse a shifter’s howl with that of a normal wolf. Ours carries the weight of everything we’ve lost.
I blend in with the shadows as I move in silence.
Hayden is too big to move in silence now.
He cracks the concrete if he gets too much height on his leap.
If he’s running as fast as I am, his claws leave gashes in the pavement.
He likes to travel across rooftops. That just slows me down. I haven’t even hit full speed yet.
A park is ahead of me. There are people hanging out there. A couple of skater punks, a girl who is trying to look cool by smoking a cigarette near them. A drug deal going down just out of sight of those three. A couple holding hands by the swing.
I don’t run around them. I don’t run through them. I accelerate like I’ve been fired out of a cannon, my muscles flex, and I take to the air. I’m the closest thing to a flying wolf as there ever will be unless one of us sprouts wings.
I hit the ground on the other side of the crowd, just inside the shadows, and I’m gone before their eyes can register I was even there.
Now I’m moving at full speed.
Even that doesn’t make me stop thinking about her. That pull. The way her scent lingers. The way it tastes better than the cleanest air, before humans turned a beautiful forest into smog and named it Chicago. The Windy City. I can fucking ride that wind.
Now I’m riding it with her on my mind as I finally land with a skid outside Jaxton’s house.
Jaxton lives alone. Well, that’s not entirely true. He lives with memories, ghosts, and the kind of rage that doesn’t like being contained. We all have some of that, but Jaxton’s burden is bigger than ours.
His burden has a name. Joanna.
Jaxton’s house is a monstrosity he built himself in the middle of several acres outside of Chicago.
On the outside, it almost looks abandoned, except for the lights peeking through the windows he never opens.
He rarely leaves this place. It’s practically his tomb.
Maybe it would be if Wyatt stopped visiting and keeping the pantries stocked.
I don’t knock. He knew I was here before I was close enough to sense him. I’m the second oldest of our surviving brothers, but he’s by far the strongest next to our Alpha. He would have become one, had the Crimson Templars not burnt Joanna at the stake in front him.
I shift into my true Human form, push the door open, and walk inside. I grab a cloak from the hook by the door and wrap it around me. It doesn’t smell like it’s been washed in a while, but it reminds me of my brothers.
When I step into the living room of Jaxton’s abode, I see him in his chair. There’s a bottle of whiskey on the table next to him. A lit cigar in his mouth and an ashtray overflowing with remnants, some smoldering from hot ashes.
That’s where he always is. He can’t even use his Third Form anymore. His concentration is too fucked up.
“Sorry to bother you, brother, but there’s a situation.
Vampires. We need to check St. Michael’s Cathedral.
Hayden killed a lot of fledglings and fought a young maker.
” I pause, waiting to see if he even looks at me.
He doesn’t, so I continue. “He’s fine, but we need you.
This is probably one of those things that will take a few days, so you might want to pack a few things. ”
“I see,” Jaxton says, glancing my way for a moment, the cigar bobbing in his mouth. He takes a long pull, then pulls it away from his face. “You said Hayden fought a young maker? He didn’t kill him?”
“It was a blood bank. The vampire called for help,” I explain with a growl. “And there were… people. Hayden had to rescue them. We’ll be looking for other survivors.”
“Fucking vampires,” Jaxton sighs out a stream of smoke and downs some whiskey. “Well, that isn’t what has you all worked up. Thought you were trying to break the sound barrier with how fast you were running.”
I freeze, my hand tightening on the cloak. Jaxton didn’t become a full Alpha. But damn if his voice doesn’t challenge the hierarchy that says I’m the older brother.
But of course he noticed. Jaxton may be a broken shell of what he was supposed to become, but he’s still one of the most perceptive wolves I’ve ever known. He knows which hand you’re going to punch him with before you realize you’re going to throw it.
“It’s nothing,” I mutter, moving towards the kitchen. “Just needed to blow off some steam.”
“Bullshit.” The word is flat, emotionless, just like my brother.
He takes another pull from his cigar. “You don’t run like that unless there’s something bothering you.
Vampires aren’t enough to get under your skin, even if they bite you.
That tells me whatever it is, you don’t want to tell me, so just save both of us some time and spit it out. ”
I grab a glass from the cabinet, filling it with water I don’t really want. I finally turn and look at him, a long sigh blowing through the smoke in the air as I return to the living room. “Hayden found his mate.”
“Impossible,” he growls flatly, drinking a gulp of whiskey.
“I know it’s impossible,” I reply, sipping the water. “It still happened.”
Jaxton leans forward. He studies me for a long moment, his golden brown eyes staring into my soul. They light up when the tip of his cigar glows from his next puff.
“A she-wolf?” he asks.
“No, some kind of Scion. He doesn’t know what she is,” I answer. “I met her. I don’t know either. She’s not Fae. She’s not a witch. Definitely not a she-wolf.”
“What does Wyatt think?” Jaxton sips his whiskey, taking a smaller drink this time. He stubs out his cigar.
“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him. Not sure if Hayden has,” I admit. “Things happened fast. I’m still trying to make sense of it. Somehow this… girl, Ansley, she knew where the vampires were. Her best friend was part of the blood bank.”
“The way you said her name,” Jaxton says, his eyes narrowing. “You said she’s Hayden’s mate. What was that in your voice?”
“Fuck,” I groan. I can’t hide anything from him. “I met her, like I said. I felt something too. It’s fucking with my head. Like, really, really fucking with my head.”
“Did you tell Hayden?” he asks, then he answers that question himself. Probably because of my body language. “No, you wouldn’t. I wouldn’t either. Fuck.”
We’re both quiet for a moment, the silence saying everything.
I won’t betray my brother. I’d take it to the grave.
Maybe go rogue, and just… no, I could never do that.
I need my brothers, even if we’re not the same pack we once were.
If something happened to them because I left, I might as well be dead, too.
“Vampires, you say. In a cathedral?” Jaxton’s chuckle rumbles. “Let’s get to it, then.”
“Yeah,” I mutter.
Jaxton stands up and I follow him to the door of the bedroom. His bed is an enormous pile of fur thicker than any human mattress. The kind we slept on when we still lived in a cave, instead of a concrete forest, blending in with the humans.
“You going to carry this shit for me?” Jaxton asks. “I don’t want to wear a damn backpack if we’re using our Natural Form.”
“Hayden never wears his either,” I sigh. “Yeah, it doesn’t slow me down. I’ll carry it.”
“Chafes my damn armpits unless I run slow, no matter how much I adjust it,” Jaxton grunts, tossing some things into the specialized backpack Storm had made for each of us.
“Can I ask you something?” I ask, looking down, leaning against the doorframe.
“Ask away,” Jaxton says.
“When you… I know Joanna wasn’t your mate. But you loved her, right? You felt a pull towards her?” I ask, instantly regretting it when I see the pain settle into Jaxton’s scowl.
“I’m going to let you ask about this once,” Jaxton growls. “Then never again. Got it?”
“Yes,” I answer.
“This is only because of what you told me. What I felt for Joanna wasn’t a mate’s bond. Not like our parents had. It was… what I would call love. It wasn’t instinct. But yes, I loved her. I gave up ever finding my true mate because of it. Almost.” He chokes up for a moment. “We never wed.”
“I’m sorry I brought it up. I just… you’re the only one of us who has ever had that,” I sigh. “I thought, maybe… I don’t know.”
“I get it, Remy,” he replies, tossing the backpack at my feet.
“That’s why I let you ask about it. Once.
Bonding with a mate and love are two different things.
That’s what I believe. Sometimes you find one, sometimes you find the other, sometimes you get lucky and find both.
But I felt like the luckiest man alive when I found love. I didn’t need a mate bond.”
I pick up the backpack and Jaxton pushes past me. I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or worse. I don’t love Ansley. What I feel isn’t that. It’s instinct.
But that doesn’t make it any less brutal. I still have her scent in my nose.
No wonder Hayden couldn’t stay away from her once he got it.