Chapter Eighteen #2
“I thought so.” He inspects the men further. “These breaks look too clean to be accidental or erratic defense. These bruises are getting their color already.” He stands with his arms crossed and looks over at Caleb. “She’s got aim and precision. I have to say, I’m impressed.”
Caleb’s jaw drops further. “She injured my men.”
“Did you tell your men they could open the cell?”
“No.”
“Then that’s the price to be paid for ignoring an order. They had no business entering the cage of a wild animal.”
I don’t appreciate being called a wild animal, but I shove my feelings down. At least the king isn’t finding fault with me.
“So you just think it’s acceptable that she harmed my men?”
“I’m saying they got what they deserved. If they had followed protocol, she wouldn’t have had to defend herself. By the looks of it, they got off easy.”
The king isn’t wrong. I could’ve done worse.
A lot worse. For once someone acknowledged my restraint, and I can’t explain how good that feels.
My heartbeats slow as the fear that I’m in trouble subsides.
It’s nice but . . . unfamiliar. Having someone stand up for me isn’t something I’m used to. Neither is my best ever being enough.
“She should’ve—”
“She should’ve what?” The king raises an eyebrow in a challenge.
“Seems to me she did what she had to do. She defended herself against your men who had no business approaching her without direct orders to begin with. There are consequences to not following the orders of your alpha. The sooner your men learn that, the better off you’ll be. ”
Caleb scans the aftermath of his men’s decisions. His fist opens and closes as he lets go of the perspective he has. With his fist open, finally, he says, “You’re right.”
Unable to believe what I’m hearing, I blink.
I’m not in trouble. They aren’t mad at me.
Caleb looks at me. “Are you alright? Did they harm you?”
“I’m fine, thank you,” I say.
His concern is unexpected and difficult to receive. It’s so much easier to assume someone has ill intentions. I don’t often trust when shown even a sliver of kindness. I want to—it just never ended well for me.
“I take full responsibility for my men’s behavior. I’ll make sure Tyler deals with them later. You have my word,” he says.
The king scans me up and down, tapping his chin. “Hmm . . . I might have a use for you. But we’d have to get your weight up first.”
There it was—the evil that lurks beneath the kind facade. This is exactly why I don’t trust niceties. Everyone always wants something. When it comes to me, it’s only to exploit my fighting skills, turning me into a killing machine for their dirty work.
My stomach twists into knots, and I begin to sweat. Nausea settles in my gut as they continue their conversation.
When did they get so loud? And why is it so hot in here?
My chest tightens, and I think Caleb says my name, but his voice is drowned out by the sound of my heart thumping.
Is this it? Am I having a heart attack? And when did the room get so small? Has it always been this small?
I grasp my throat. I can’t breathe.
Am I dying? Or is this just another attack? “I won’t fight for you,” I rasp out as I struggle to get air to enter my lungs, hyperventilating.
Caleb rushes over to me just as my vision fades, and my knees go weak. He catches me.
I hardly feel myself gently lowered to the ground as he encourages me to take deep breaths. At his touch alone, my breathing steadies.
“There you go. You’re okay. It’s okay, I’ve got you.”
His words chase away the darkness. My vision clears to the sight of him hovering over me, trying his best to fan me.
Minutes later, after everything normalizes, embarrassment creeps in. Caleb’s hand is probably covered in my sweat, and I don’t even want to think about how I must’ve looked.
“Are you feeling better?” Caleb asks.
I swallow and search his eyes for any condescension. When I find none, I nod. “Yes . . . Thank you.” Entranced in his stare, I allow myself to gaze and lose myself.
At least until the king clears his throat.
“I am not sure what you mean by fighting for’ me. I have plenty of warriors for that.”
So what did he need me for?
“I could use you to help train this pack,” he explains.
“You what?” Caleb and I ask in unison.
I scramble to my feet and out of Caleb’s arms.
“Your Majesty, I-I don’t know if that’s a good idea . . . The pack hasn’t recovered since the last attack, and we don’t take to”—his eyes drift to me—“them—”
Ouch.
“Well. The rogues—”
“The rogues dominated Bloodhound. Which means your pack could learn a thing or two from them. And if they don’t want something like the attack five months ago to happen again, I’d advise them to swallow their distaste.
Caleb can’t argue that kind of logic.
“That might’ve been easier to pass off if I hadn’t already told them she is a prisoner.”
Hm. I stand corrected.
“Take a page out of your father’s book. Tell them she was a prisoner, and now she’s being rehabilitated. You’re integrating her into Bloodhound society.”
Into society? He wants to domesticate me?
“Do I get a say in this?”
“No,” they both say at the same time.
Worth a shot.
“Okay. Say I do this—”
“Well, there’s no ‘saying.’ You’re doing it.”
“If I let her out, she’ll just run.”
Caleb moves from my side to Dax and faces me again. They study me, standing in nearly the same stance, thinking to themselves.
“Yeah . . .” Dax sighs, touching a hand to his chin while his other is crossed over his chest. “I thought the caged look on her face seemed familiar.”
“Alaina?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“That’s who I was thinking,” Caleb says.
They sigh simultaneously.
I feel like a mannequin in a store window with the way they look and talk about me like I can’t see or hear them.
They’re not wrong. I would run. The first chance I got. Then, I’d take Jeff and Casey somewhere where Bloodhound would never find us. What Caleb and King Dax are wrong about is thinking I’m anything like their hybrid queen, Alaina.
The king’s eyes glaze over, and when they return to normal, he says, “I see she’s not above stabbing you, either, to increase her chances of escaping.”
Caleb chuckles. “I’m well aware, Your Majesty.”
With a hand on his chin, the king’s eyes narrow as he walks toward me. “The question is, how do we keep you from running? What motivates you?” The king circles me. When he disappears behind me, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “What . . . is . . . your . . . weakness?”
I’ve heard of the hybrid king’s abilities, so I try to focus my mind on anything else.
“You should know that avoidance is done with intent. It tells me you’re hiding something. And I have a knack for uncovering the truth.”
I gulp.
He taps the inside of my foot with his, and I spread my legs shoulder-width apart. “Fetch me that torch over there.”
Caleb looks from the king to me and groans softly. Although reluctant, he does as he’s told.
The king holds it to my face and heat licks beneath my chin as the flame nears my neck. Caleb’s expression makes his fear known. And if he is, shouldn’t I be? No stranger to pain, I’m calm, unafraid. My door has always been open to death at any time.
I don’t budge, or even flinch. There are worse things to fear than being alive enough to feel. In fact, it’s the only time I do feel alive.
Caleb, on the other hand, takes a step forward, his eyes glowing gold. Probably afraid that the king will take away his only shot at vengeance.
The king snaps his fingers at Caleb. “Hey, hey! Focus.”
Caleb rolls out his neck and shoulders. His eyes return to their normal color. But every time the king gets close to touching me, a gold hue swirls.
Odd. A little territorial over your prey there, buddy?
“Interesting . . .” the king says. With his focus on me, he holds the weapon in Caleb’s direction.
Caleb shuffles forward and eagerly takes it from him, then steps back.
“So, pain doesn’t motivate you . . .” the king mutters to himself.
“Quite the opposite. She gets off on it.” Caleb smirks.
My jaw drops, horrified. I shut it quickly, not wanting to give anything away in case the king didn’t pick up on it. I bug my eyes out, giving Caleb a “shut up” look.
He peers at Caleb like he wants further clarification, then shakes his head. “Hmm . . . Then what does?”
I’m silently hoping Caleb doesn’t bring up Casey. When he doesn’t, I wonder why he wouldn’t. He wants my compliance just as much as the king does. I conclude it may be considered an insult to the king’s intelligence and ability to figure it out himself.
“Power? Fortune? Necessities?” the king rambles off. “No . . . That’s not it. Man, I could’ve sworn that would’ve been it. You come from nothing. I figured you could want for everything.”
I shoot Caleb a reserved look as if to say “I told you so.”
“Your motivation isn’t intrinsic. Therefore, it must be extrinsic . . .” He trails off. “Perhaps a loved one?”
I gulp.
Think of something else. Think of something else. But at my intention to think of something else, I’m showing avoidance, and it’s too late. He picks up on this.
He grins. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
“I’m not telling you anything.”
Caleb chimes in, “To develop your skill and precision, without ancestral powers, would take any wolf years of experience. For someone as experienced as yourself, I’m surprised you’d lack the mental strategy to throw us off your tracks.
You should know that defensiveness would only feed an enemy’s intrigue. ”
Crap. I hate when he’s right. I do know better.
“Well said, but regulation can be taught if she’d let me teach her.”
“I don’t want to fight. I want—”
“To go home?” He chuckles. “What home? Your only option is to work with us.”
I bite my bottom lip.
“But since you won’t do so willingly . . . If you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to identifying your weakness. It won’t take long. Let’s see . . . Do you have family?”
“No.”
Don’t answer him! Right.
I need to let him figure it out. I hold my chin a little higher.
“Friends?”
Don’t answer, don’t answer.
The king grins. “You have friends. That’s nice. Do you want them to live?”
“Of course I do but—”
“Then tell me their names or.”
Maroon orbs glare at me, and I gulp. Large, pointed canines with strings of saliva wrapped around them appear as his jaws of death open. Even I know I couldn’t take him.
My choices are death or betray Casey, which I’d never do.
I roll out my neck and shoulders and hold my chin high.
Guess this is it.
The king’s breath is hot against my skin as he inches closer. I shut my eyes tight, waiting for my end. Caleb blurts, “Casey. I’ve already threatened her with the little girl.”
My eyes shoot open and find Caleb. My upper lip twitches into a snarl at the snitch. I swear the next time death shows up at my door, I’m telling him they have the wrong house and pointing to Caleb instead.
“And even with that threat, she’s still planning to run.” Dax challenges Caleb directly. “What’re you going to do about it?”
Like a demonic, possessed doll, Caleb’s head turns slowly toward me. “I’m going to make sure she knows if she runs, I’ll find her.” He steps to me, inches from my face and snaps a collar and a leash in place. “Every time.”