Chapter 14 Grayson
If I run fast enough, I can escape my demons.
That's what I told myself as a kid when I took the blame for my brother's fuck-ups. Up the mountain, away from everyone, the pressure of my future seemed smaller, more distant.
When rogues killed our parents and nearly decimated our clan fifty years ago, after we put them down and made them pay, I shifted and ran up the mountain, fast and far.
For a brief moment, the mounting responsibility, the weight of stepping into my father's role, of facing their deaths, lifted from my shoulders.
It all waited for me at home in a neat little package of grief and anger, but if I kept running, then I wouldn't have to face it, to give in to the demons that begged me to unleash and raze the earth.
And when Silas abandoned us—after wreaking his usual havoc, whoring his way through the clan, leaving me to clean up his careless mess—I ran, fast and far.
The escape was always there. A fantasy, sure. I'd never actually abandon my responsibilities. But in those moments, when I was running, I could taste the relief. I'd push until exhaustion hit, and then, when I was ready, return to face reality.
But there's no respite from this chaos tearing at my soul. My alpha is frantic, my head feels like it's being torn in a thousand different directions, and still, nothing eases the pain, the worry of what's coming.
I tried running, but it was useless.
Nothing prepared me for the terror in my mate's eyes. For the way she screamed at the sight of me. It fucking flayed me.
Some wolves wait entire lifetimes to find their fated or choose a mate. I'd never gone looking. I was content with occasional hook-ups and casual dating. But now that I know she exists, she's inside me, burrowed deep. To dig her out would be to extract the very marrow from my bones.
And I can't outrun her fear of me.
The sun is irritating. It's too bright, too warm.
It's crisp here, at this elevation. The air is cool, and on any other day—hell, yesterday—I'd have said it was a perfect day.
But there's too much hostile shit in my brain to appreciate it, and as my heavy boots crush the wildflowers while I make my way back to the jail, I find a little pleasure in destroying something beautiful, making the world as ugly as I feel.
It's probably not the right time to deal with my enforcers, but my calm second isn't here to stop me. He's hovering over our mate and, ordinarily, that's probably something I'd appreciate, but right now, it makes me jealous and feeds the darkness mounting inside me.
Andrea's green apple and mint scent hits me first. Another thing I'd have appreciated just yesterday, but today it makes me furious.
I scent Stance next. He's not the strongest alpha—and he has a beta's energy.
Less dominant, less need for control. He's a follower.
And when I storm down the long, narrow hall into the room, he shifts behind Andrea, not in front of her, like a coward.
They eye me warily as I approach the cell.
They look exactly as they did last night, wearing the standard enforcer uniform of black utility pants that are easy to pull off for a quick shift, and a ribbed tank that clings to their muscular frames.
Sweat stains, blood, and the faint scent of my omega still cling to them, and it takes everything inside me not to just shift and tear them to pieces.
Andrea's teeth grit despite her show of submission. She straightens her spine, clasps her hands behind her back. She looks like the enforcer I've always known her to be.
It takes me a moment to say anything, as I fight the urge to wrench the steel bars apart with my bare hands and paint the walls with their blood.
My voice is low, slow, and lethal. "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you for your crimes."
The answering silence is tense and heavy, crackling between us. Their fear is like a drug, and I get a small thrill from it. This must be how my brother always felt, letting that intoxicating rush of power bleed out for all to see. They both take an instinctive step back.
Leadership demands restraint. But the darkness I've spent years choking back—running, to exhaust my demons—rises like bile, and for once, I let it flood to the surface. I let my alpha breathe.
Stance folds first. He practically shoves Andrea aside, his voice shaking in tune with his knees. "It was her fault! I knew it was an omega—"
"Shut your fucking mouth, you worthless idiot!"
"I told you she was an omega! I warned you, but you were acting crazy!"
Andrea hisses, "Whose boots smashed the girl's fingers?"
"Enough!" My alpha bark reverberates through them, pulsing outward, and the two cower, falling to their knees and baring their necks.
Stance whips his head back and forth like a wet dog as he struggles to stand back up, shaking off the command. Andrea isn't much better off, but recovers more quickly.
"Lune, I—"
"Silence, wolf!"
Andrea's shoulders sag, her alpha whimpering meekly. To submit this much, in this way, is painful. I know from experience, from when I was a pup, getting into trouble with my parents.
"We have few laws among shifters," I continue. "Never knowingly expose yourself to a human or publicize our customs. Never harm children. Never challenge a wolf of lesser rank. And above all… never, ever attack an innocent. Especially an omega."
The wolves smartly stay quiet, shrinking into themselves.
All I can think about, all I can see, is the woman in the hospital bed, broken and screaming at me.
Since I don't know why, for now, I'm placing the blame at their feet.
It takes everything inside of me, every small scrap of patience, to think like a leader.
I stride to the barred door, silently commanding the two prisoners to stand upright.
I'd like to say I've thought long and hard about their punishments, but the truth is, I've barely given it any thought. The words come naturally, though, and I think Orion would approve.
"I don't care about your excuses. You two have shattered your vows.
Not just as my enforcers, a job designed to protect our people, but as wolves.
What you did… you're lucky I didn't kill you.
You're both stripped of your positions. Andrea, you are Hilde's new bitch.
She says jump, you ask how fucking high.
Stance, you can scrub linens in Rovie's laundry house.
Accept, and I'll release you. Refuse, and you're exiled.
Or, you could choose to challenge me. The decision is yours. "
God, I would fucking love it if they chose a challenge. Unfortunately, neither of them is stupid enough to fight me. "What will it be?"
Andrea's voice trembles as she works out her words. For a beat, I think she'll plead her innocence or beg forgiveness. Instead, she squares her shoulders, lifts her chin and meets my eyes—I feel a flicker of pride—before dipping her chin. "Kitchen with Hilde. I accept."
We both turn to Stance. He quakes pathetically, his wolf keening. It's clear there's indecision, but Stance is so overwhelmed and afraid, he can barely stand up straight, and his wolf isn't faring much better.
None of our wolves could stand against me, but I expect better than this. We're going to have to take a serious look at our alphas in the enforcer program.
Stance shakes his head, subtly at first, then manically. "N-no. No. I'll leave. Just let me say goodbye to my mom—"
"Tonight," I hiss, unsurprised by his decision.
Stance nods, defeated. "Tonight. I'll be gone tonight."
I retrieve the key from my pocket. I don't feel satisfied, but I didn't expect to.
"I am not known for my leniency. You're lucky I'm in a charitable mood.
I should have fucking killed you for what you did.
" I unlock the cell. The door swings open.
The squeak of the hinges brings me back to two nights ago, to the violated omega on the ground, covered in blood.
To the stench in the air. Her sweet, honey-floral scent. Her cries.
I let out a disappointed sigh. "I'm ashamed of you, and our clan. But the failure lies with me. Perhaps our training hasn't been vigorous enough. That changes now. I will make reparations to the omega." To my mate. Somehow.
I step aside without another word.
Neither prisoner moves, so I tilt my head toward the exit. Cautiously, with as much distance between himself and me as possible, Stance turns and runs out of the building.
Andrea steps out with her head held high. I turn to leave, but she just can't swallow her pride.
"The timing is too convenient, Lune. I know what she smells like to you—"
I don't hesitate, pinning her back against the silver bars.
Burnt hair swirls with the sharp tinge of her apple scent as the sharp tips of my fingers cut into her vulnerable flesh.
This is the fourth strongest alpha in my pack, one of the most powerful wolves in the world.
I shouldn't be surprised she's still arguing.
"Never speak of my omega. Do not look at her. Do not talk to her. She doesn't exist as far as you're concerned."
Andrea gags, eyes watering. When I ease the pressure, she wheezes, but she must have a death wish because she doesn't stop.
"Where did she come from, Gray? She was all alone, and no one is missing an omega?
At a time when shifters are going missing, two of our own—it makes no sense!
She's a rogue, the witches have to be behind—"
I squeeze tighter as blood drips down my claw-tipped fingers. Andrea puts her hands up in surrender, and I release her throat. She coughs. "I'm sorry. I will leave her alone. But… someone should be asking these questions. Even if she is your mate—"
My answering growl detonates in a forceful wave. Andrea sucks in a breath, her limbs convulsing as her wolf claws its way to the surface. She falls to all fours as fur erupts through her skin, clothes shredded. In moments, a powerful gray wolf stands in Andrea's place.
Her wolf bows her head in a show of respect, then pivots and bounds out of the room. Finally, some sense.
I ignore the prickling doubt at her questions, the mystery surrounding the new omega, and leave. I'm stripped down and ready to go for a run up the mountain by the time I reach the exit.