Chapter Eight Gideon
Gideon
If anyone asked the members of his pack or those he works with, they would say without a doubt that Gideon is a spiritual person. Oh, he still believes in science; and every time shit lands on the floor in his immaculate kitchen, gravity abruptly reminds him that he’s a believer in science.
But spirituality is something that exists alongside his belief in the literal ups and downs of the universe; he could no more separate them than he could pull the moon from the sky. Any of the individuals in Gideon’s life could tell you that much; what they couldn’t tell you, however, is why his belief in the spiritual nature of life is so strong.
That’s something that no one knows except The Moon Goddess and Gideon.
Born into one of the most violent crime families in the United States, it became clear to Gideon’s mother early on that her precocious, curious, single-minded child was on track to rise through the ranks quickly as a crime family prodigy.
By the age of ten, his father was already singing his praises for his early aptitude with weapons, his skill in strategy, and his near-fearlessness. But Gideon’s mother had also seen how her son loved living things and creating things in the kitchen or the craft room. Her rooms in the compound were usually decorated with art and pressed flowers.
The staff quarters were often overrun with stray cats, convalescing birds, and even the occasional squirrel. She once shared with him before she died that she could see the scales were at a tipping point. So, she chose to leave her husband and save her child.
It hadn’t been easy—escaping Patrick Carnell and going “off-grid” in a small cabin deep in the Smoky Mountains, in the heart of an ancient forest—but it had been worth it.
Because Gideon had thrived .
Gideon’s inner wolf loved the wilderness. From the rugged peaks that rose like sentinels in the mist to the deep ancient forests, to the quiet streams where he caught crayfish in shoals; they all became his playground and his classroom. The skills he’d already developed on the gun range or in a physical training gym translated to tracking animals and practicing his stealth against the elk or black bears.
He built on his already impressive endurance, focus, and self-control. He borrowed books from the small town library every month when they traveled in the warm months, selling produce or crafts and trading for shoes and clothing. Gideon absorbed every word he’d read and could even now recite poetry or talk about quantum mechanics.
It was a place out of time, and it was there that Gideon’s passion for creating dishes to please his mother and his discerning palette grew. Their corner of the world provided for them. His mother would depart wisdom from her plain upbringing with every recipe; the garden and the forest and the streams offered gifts, and Gideon treated them as such.
It was in the woods that Gideon really let himself be free. Divested of the trappings of human society, he embraced his senses, running and hunting side-by-side with the other predators in the forest. He learned to show gratitude for those creatures who taught him and those who sustained him.
He was one with nature and one with his wolf.
It was on one such summer afternoon, during Gideon’s seventeenth year, after a long morning spent in the garden, that his inner wolf grew restless with the slow, tedious work of weeding and watering. He was set to present the following year, and in his mother’s mind, there was no doubt he would be an alpha.
All he had wanted was to run, but she had been growing more and more tired lately—her buttery scent tinged with fatigue, her eyes shadowed by something deeper than worry. So, he had pushed through, determined to finish the chore.
Throughout the day, he made sure she sat quietly in the shade with her book, bringing her lunch or visiting to chat about this or that. But once he’d gathered enough for their dinner, he’d begged to spend his afternoon doing what he loved most. She often told him he was becoming a wild wolf, the veneer of his manners worn thin, often lamenting that her homeschooling couldn’t polish some of his sharp edges. But she also insisted that a rough edge or two made the diamond more interesting and no less valuable. She waved him off with a tired smile and closed her eyes for a nap in the shade.
On fast feet, Gideon raced into the woods on the well-worn path, following his nose. Gideon never got lost; he knew every inch of the wood within ten miles of his cottage and the pitfalls that lay within. He stalked a small family of white-tailed deer and spotted two large cats and so many small prey animals he lost count. He felt the urge to run and run and run, the burning in his legs a pleasure, so he pressed on harder until he burst into an open area with a small waterfall and the sun shining on several rocky outcroppings. The clearing was right out of a fairy tale.
Suddenly hot and thirsty, Gideon removed his shirt to lie on a flat rock and gulp the clear water in large handfuls. He rolled over and nearly rolled right into the lagoon, uncharacteristically clumsy. And then did, as a clear tinkling voice laughed. He floundered, afraid he might drown, but instinct had him standing up in two feet of water.
The laugh sounded again. Gideon, you amuse Us .
The voice came from a small person, neither female nor male in the traditional sense, but androgynous in the most beautiful of ways. Their skin glowed with a light that came from inside, and it occurred to Gideon that he should be frightened because his woods were not occupied by humans of any kind. That there was an otherworldly figure in a white gown sitting at the edge of a lagoon that had never existed in any of Gideon’s previous travels should have been alarming, but…it wasn’t.
Gideon listened to his instincts and felt only a sense of peace. The forest animals weren’t quiet, and he knew they could sense danger long before him. He was safe, for now.
Come and sit. They gestured to the edge of the rocky outcrop nearest them. You are not afraid. A statement, not a question.
“No.” And They nodded.
Tell me then, Gideon Carnell, why do you stalk the animals? Is it their fear you crave?
The question was a test—he knew that—but he answered truthfully anyway. “I don’t think they fear me at all. I am just practicing my skills. We share these woods.” Gideon hadn’t ever thought about why he spent his time learning the behaviors of the animals around him, why he cared to protect them and learn from them. “I…don’t know why I do it…I just need to do it. Am I weird?”
They smiled. We like weird, Gideon. You are indeed a very special young man.
The sun dimmed a bit as a cloud passed overhead, and the wind picked up slightly. It smelled as if it might rain. Perhaps a storm was coming.
He shifted on the rock, suddenly uncomfortable.
Alright, Gideon, We’ll get right to it. We know you appreciate knowing where you stand. Do you know who We are?
The glow intensified, and, like a mirage, Gideon caught a glimmer of many bodies, of many faces, in the corner of his eye. The image burned his eyes a little, and he quickly looked away; he saw his own shadow on the rock beside him.
“Yes,” he whispered, and he did . This was The Moon Goddess—creator of the Werewolves, divine protector of Their children, and the source of every blessing in body, mind, and spirit. Gideon’s breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, the thought of his mother filled his mind.“Have you come for me? Am I…dead?” If he was, who would care for his mother?
Another giggle, although this time it sounded like it was composed of a multitude of voices.
Not at all. You must live a long life and protect your mates. The world is changing, and We find it so hard to reach our children in the cities. Oh, they still pray to Us, and We still love them, but We could not resist you. Here in the forest, where the veil is thinner, We can see that your wolf’s heart is true.
“What must I do?” He knew the next words would change the direction of his life, and he couldn’t wait.
Why, that’s easy, Gideon: you must love. Six will find you, and together, you will find the last. Don’t despair or lose hope. But Gideon, the journey will be painful sometimes and surprising. But if you are strong, you can protect them, and never be afraid to call upon us. We can hear you.
“But I’m not even seventeen. How am I supposed to do all that? I live way out here.” Gideon had pulled at his hair with both hands.
You no longer have to hide. We are sorry for that. It was beyond Us.
They looked genuinely sad for a moment. Not for Themselves but for him, and he felt the ruffle of something like a comforting hand slide over his hair.
The sun darkened again and when he looked back, They were more translucent than before. Fading as the sun set.
You should go, dear heart. We must soon be high in the sky. Go. The storm is coming. Trust yourself, Gideon. And trust your mates.
And They were gone.
Gideon had been a bit confused, but he’d always been philosophical and surprisingly flexible. So even though the whole thing had been surreal, he’d left the glen just as the rain began to fall. The trip home was short, and he hadn’t been more than ten minutes away from the cabin this whole time. When he arrived, his mother was no longer in her chair outside. He was sure that the rain had forced her inside. He’d set the potatoes to cooking, and when he called for her, he found her in her bed and knew right away that she was gone.
He understood now that her changing scent, constant fatigue, and weakness had meant she was hiding pain and illness. He vowed he would never again be so unaware that those he loved suffered, even for a second.
And for what Gideon thought would be the last time, he cried.
How wrong he was.
And now here he is, standing in the waiting room and listening to Riordan reveal all the many ways that their mate had been hurt. Memories of the Moon Goddess’s reassurance swirled in his mind— protect them, trust them —but all he could feel was the raw, aching need to avenge Nix. He knows Riordan is withholding some key information. He could smell the surgeon’s intent to—well, not deceive necessarily, but he knows that his words are not the entire truth.
Gideon isn’t so easily fooled, as his entire early childhood was a lesson in deceit and violence. He learned at his father’s knee how to keep his emotions buried deep so he could see the intentions of others and use their own emotions against them.
He knows that there are a host of things being left unsaid, and just the idea there might be more or worse information has Gideon seething. He is rapidly losing control of his instincts to hunt and seek vengeance. The growls that are forced out of his very soul are so menacing that Luca and Leo cringe. Even Ewan visibly flinches.
Gideon’s wolf is demanding vengeance, and he cannot disagree. Not knowing where he’s headed, he bolts from the room and into the stairwell. His wolf needs out, or he will tear the entire ICU to pieces in search of the name of the perpetrator. His wolf is in charge now, calculating and vicious.
The stairs lead down and down and down each step fueled by his wolf’s snarling rage. There’s a locked fire door at the bottom, and a single well-placed kick has it flying off its hinges and onto the concrete slab at the rear of the facility. He can hear thundering steps behind him and Leo’s brave ( so brave) voice calling him.
Gideon tries to get his wolf back under control, but the alpha is too incensed. Leo barrels through the door behind him and tackles him to the ground. Flinging him off, Gideon staggers into a run around the side of the building toward the parking lot. Leo tries again, but Gideon’s wolf spins, grabs his shirt, and forces him, heels dragging backward toward the brick wall of the hospital. The impact of him hitting the wall is hard enough to force out a gasp.
“Alpha. Please,” Leo begs hoarsely. He wheezes, eyes downcast, and his hands are gripping Gideon’s shirt.
Gideon lets him slide to the ground and slams his fist into the wall with such force that brick and mortar rain down on the beta’s head.
“Gideon.” Leo’s hand is calloused from his music and his dedication in the gym, but so strong and always so gentle. “Alpha. Please.” Gideon feels the touch on his bleeding hand and lets himself be pulled down to the ground, some of his rage flowing out as his beta brushes away his tears.
His. Tears.
Leaning into Leo’s neck, he lets his tears fall unchecked. He cries for all the pain Nix has endured and for his mate’s fear. Impotent rage dials back to a slow simmer as the scent of cinnamon works to calm him like nothing else.
There would be time to rip out the throat of the one who dared hurt one of his. Please, Goddess, help me. Simple words of worship that Gideon has prayed so often are second nature.
“What do you need, love?” It was something Jay always asked. Always. In work, in the bedroom, and in life. Leo had picked the habit up, especially in times of stress. The beta has always tried to be the best mate he can be.
He sniffles in a really undignified way. “I’m sorry, Leo. So sorry.”
“What? No! You’re allowed to be upset. We all are. But Riordan has it under control, right?”
When Gideon stiffens, Leo deflates and it’s his turn to comfort. “It’s not good, is it? What are we going to do? Fuck.”
“I don’t know. But I need to do something. I need to find the Were who did this to Nix and…” Gideon is afraid his blood lust will rise again if he thinks about it for too long. His wolf is pacing relentlessly, unsatisfied, in the back of his mind.
“Okay.” Leo shrugs his massive shoulders.
Shocked disbelief must show on Gideon’s face. “What do you mean, okay ?”
The beta reaches for Gideon’s bloody hand and wipes the blood off onto his own t-shirt. Gideon slaps his hand away, tsk-ing at the bloody mess they both are now. So Gideon wipes his runny nose on Leo’s shoulder, adding to the mess.
“Gross! What I mean is, let’s find that asshole and end him.” Leo was normally one of the more level-headed pack members and a peacemaker among the more volatile tempers in the pack. It’s a surprise to hear him be this aggressive. “But…Riordan said they’ve called in the Were Law Enforcement Division, so maybe we wait to see if they can catch him so we don’t go to jail. You might do well in prison, but I’m too soft.”
Gideon laughs softly. “And too damn pretty, baby.” Leo blushes hard, and his spicy cinnamon scent blooms. And as far as distractions go, it’s satisfying.
“Fuck off. How can I be so sad and also so turned on?”
“It’s a gift.”
They sit for long minutes until Gideon gets to his feet. He lets Leo lead him back the way they came with their hands swinging between them. “Alright. I’ll let the authorities do their thing for now. But I’m not going to sit on my ass. I’ve got a few calls to make. Maybe you should go inside.”
“You think I’m letting you out of my sight? Fuck that. Your calls can wait. The smell of your blood is freaking my wolf out, and I’m hungry. Come feed me.” Gideon is far from calm, the rage still simmering under the surface, and apparently, he’s not concealing it from his observant beta as well as he thought.
Gideon had no intention of letting the legal system handle doling out judgment. When the time comes, Gideon promises his wolf three things: blood in his mouth, bones beneath his jaws, and a beating heart in his hand.
But apparently, that will have to wait until he feeds his mate.
The steel door to the hospital is still lying on the ground, with an enormous foot-sized dent in it and a high-pitched buzz sounding from the security system that’s annoying the fuck out of his wolf.
“Remind me not to get in your way when you’re mad. Fuck. Also, it’s so hot. You think Riordan will make us pay for that?” Stepping around the door, they start the ten-flight walk up together. Still hand in hand.