Chapter 3
Hazard
The menthol scent is everywhere, but I’ve got the best sniffer of the pack, and I think that the menthol isn’t her actual scent but something she’s wearing. Something to deflect and hide.
I mean, no one moves out to a mountain and lives out here alone without some skeletons in the closet.
I sniff through the entire house, finding the secret room at the back of the pantry, the attic stairs, the strange smells of an old woman that is almost gone, just a ghost of a smell lingering in the hidden corners, but all around is that overpowering menthol that Casey wears.
Interestingly, I find weapons hidden all over the house. Behind some paintings, a rolled-up wire hidden in a pot plant, three knives, and a mallet.
Who is our new owner expecting?
I continue to pace around the interior of the house before I let myself out and pad into the front yard. The wind carries the scent of the pines. I can’t smell any wolves, but that doesn’t mean anything. Whether they are wolves that walk on two legs or live on four, they will be around.
I take off, running in one direction. When I get to a certain distance away, I stop, lifting my head, sucking the different scents down into my lungs. Nothing. I turn and run in a wide arc, stopping occasionally to taste the air.
Finally, I get to a ridge and see the faint glow of lights. I watch it for a long time. When I finally feel satisfied, I stand up and turn away, only to stop when a howl lifts mournfully into the night, followed by a multitude more.
My fur lifts, and I almost dance over the ground, ready to attack or run. I swivel my ears, but these wolves are too far away for me to be able to catch anything from them scent wise. Still, I count more than twenty voices raised. Which rules out a natural pack.
It takes me a while, but I get back to the cabin. Khaos opens the door and steps outside to join me on the porch.
“What did you find out?”
“We’re in the middle of nowhere, I don’t think there is anyone close to us but,” I say, watching as he tenses, “there is a large pack close to here, and judging by how many I heard, I think we’re looking at wolves like us. Shifters."
Khaos curses violently.
“She’s got weapons hidden throughout the house. I thought about removing them, but she had them before we came, so I don’t think we are the target.”
“No, I don’t think so either.”
Riot steps out silently. I take note of the fact that the door makes almost no noise when it opens. How do you create a silent door?
“Are you finished buttering up to her?” Khaos growls.
“Not at all, I’m probably going to keep doing it,” Riot says easily, ignoring Khaos’ vicious glare.
“You show a distinct lack of care about this pack for one of its members.”
“Oh, no. I show enough care, you just expect me to be a shadow of you, and I’m not.”
“She is our owner,” Khaos snaps, losing his temper.
“She’s alone and scared, and she’s just inherited five wolves and a curse. I think being horrible to her would be the wrong move.”
“You are not supposed to be thinking,” Khaos growls.
Riot stiffens. “Yes, Master. How low shall I bow to lick your boots, Master?”
“I didn’t mean that!” Khaos hisses.
“Watch yourself, Khaos. I know you hate humans now, and especially women who wear our bracelet, but did it ever occur to you that we create the very thing we hate by the way we treat them?”
“No one teases anyone into rape,” Khaos spits back.
Riot flinches. “She hasn’t done anything yet to be an enemy, so how about we punish her crimes when she actually commits them?”
I turn away, running my hand through my hair, hoping they will stop.
“We can’t afford to be wrong. How much more do you think Angel and Wrath can take?”
Riot hesitates.
A whine rises up my throat. We’re all cracking, but Angel is closest to the edge with his murderous tendencies. Wrath, however, is sinking into the rage he feels. One is mad, and one is insane, I think, remembering a rhyme my mother read me when I was little.
Riot is coping better, but, in some ways, his torture has been cleaner. Starvation and neglect can push people to the edge, but not in the same way that being used as a fuck toy can.
On the other hand, watching it all has Khaos and myself almost breaking. The pack can’t take much more of this. She’s our thirteenth owner.
Thirteen.
I can barely remember their names, but, at night, when I close my eyes, I dream of them. They come back with faces I will see forever, and they laugh while they peel us apart.
Will she be the same, or will she be worse?
No one knows what will happen. She wasn’t supposed to get the bracelet. Liz was going to hand it to her sister. We had a plan. But Liz got on the phone with a vindictive smile and called this stranger.
I shift my weight as Riot turns without another word and enters the cabin. Angel walks out of the treeline, his feet bare, no t-shirt on. He looks untamed and wild. The way we should be.
Would our parents even recognise us anymore?
Would they look at us and see wolves that are worthy of coming home?
Perhaps we’re now so broken that we won’t be welcome at home.
No, Angel will always be welcome. It’s me they won’t roll out the red carpet for. If we ever get free, I’ll help Angel get there, and then I will quietly go somewhere else.
“Was there anything else of note?”
I jerk out of my thoughts. “No?”
“Okay, let’s head on in and go to sleep. We don’t know how early she rises, and I don’t want to be asleep around her.”
I nod my head, ducking past Khaos. He hates me. I don’t blame him; I hate me, too.
I inhale deeply, catching a hint of lilac in the air. I stop, trying to find it again, but it’s gone.
“Go to sleep, Hazard. I’ll sit up and make sure nothing happens.”
“I think we’re safe here, Khaos.”
He nods. “But there’s a chance that we’re not, and that slight chance is why I’m going to sit up, just in case. Go to sleep.’’
I head into the spare room. It’s got wooden panelling and a massive queen-size bed. There isn’t much more room, but it looks comfortable. I get on the bed and turn in a circle three times before collapsing in a ball with my nose in my tail.
I’m almost asleep when I hear her whimpers.
I lift my head, my ears flicking as I try to pick up anymore sounds from her direction.
I hear movement and realise Riot is climbing back up on the couch, helping her to sleep. And that hurts. He should be with us; he shouldn’t be with our enemy.
I lay down, staring at the wall.
Is she our enemy?
I shudder, yes. As long as she’s wearing that bracelet on her arm, she’s not our friend; she’s absolutely the enemy.