by Sadie Moss
“What do you think?” The older woman shook her head. “Territory.”
Damn it. Despite Alpha Elijah’s claims that all escaped shifters were welcome here, in actual practice, it’d been a little different than that. The Lost Pack hadn’t added any new members for over a year before we showed up, and prior to that, wolves had arrived in a slow trickle, in ones and twos. The arrival of so many new shifters at once had upset the pack dynamic, and tensions were running high on all sides.
It didn’t help one bit that the Lost Pack’s alpha wasn’t that happy about our presence. His feelings, spoken or not, trickled down to the rest of his pack, making them even more territorial and aggressive.
The wolves in the center of the pavilion continued to circle each other, low growls and whines escaping through bared teeth as they looked for an opening, a weakness.
“Where’s Alpha Elijah?” I muttered, anger giving my words bite.
The question had mostly been rhetorical, but the woman in front of me answered anyway. “He won’t interfere. He believes in letting the pack sort out its own hierarchy. He almost never steps in.”
Jackson shook his head in disgust as we pushed our way toward the front of the crowd, leaving the woman behind.
“What a load of bullshit,” he muttered. “Maybe that worked before, but if he doesn’t do something soon, someone’s gonna get hurt.”
My heart stuttered at the idea, and for the hundredth time since we’d arrived, I wondered if we should’ve taken the Salt Lake City shifters somewhere—anywhere—else. Would it have been better to let them scatter to the wind? To have sent them off on their own to try to make their way in the world? I couldn’t imagine many of them would’ve survived. They had no identification, no money, and no idea how to function in the human world anymore.
Maybe we should’ve made our own settlement somewhere else, but it had seemed safer to join the pack of shifters we already knew existed. There was security in numbers, and with Strand still out there, we’d wanted every last advantage we could get.
But there’s only safety in numbers if we don’t kill each other first.
As if responding to my thoughts, the black-haired wolf lunged forward, his jaws snapping at the gray wolf’s leg. She yipped in surprise and danced backward, lashing out with her own teeth as she did. Both wolves growled, their hackles standing up all along their backs.
More bodies jostled through the throng of people around me, and I heard a low voice mutter near my ear, “Fuck. Not again.”
Noah stopped by my side and glanced my way as he spoke, his gray-blue eyes flashing with concern. Behind him, West, Rhys, and Sariah pushed their way through the crowd, gazes fixed on the face-off. Rhys ran a hand through his black curls, looking pissed as hell, while West’s expression was grave.
But Sariah looked absolutely stricken.
“Tara!” The word was a breathless cry, and before I could register what she was doing, she darted into the open circle. “Don’t hurt her! Stop! Stop!”
“Sariah, no!”
Rhys leapt after her. The rest of us followed quickly, but we were all too late. As Sariah reached the two wolves, positioning herself between them to try to break up the fight, they both lunged forward. The black-haired girl was knocked to the side, going down hard on her hands and knees as the wolves met in a fierce embrace, snapping and snarling at each other. She grabbed the black wolf’s back leg, trying to pull him away from her pack mate, but in a flash of fur and fangs, he whipped his head around.
His jaw closed around Sariah’s arm, and she cried out in pain.
The sound seemed to split the air, shattering the deadly tension that hovered between the two wolves. Immediately, they both shifted back to human form, panting and wide-eyed. They stared at Sariah in shock as she cradled her injured arm, as if they hadn’t truly realized she was there until now.
I dropped to my knees beside Sariah, but Rhys went straight for Daniel, grabbing the man by the face with one large hand and forcing him backward several steps.
“You son of a bitch! I’ll fucking kill you!”
The man was in his early forties, with dark skin and short gray hair. I didn’t know him well, but he looked like the kind of guy who would do your taxes—quiet and unassuming. I’d bet anything that until we arrived, he’d never been in a fight in his life.
But Rhys didn’t give a fuck about that. Someone had hurt his sister. His flesh and blood. The person he’d dedicated over six years of his life to finding and rescuing.
I saw the muscles and bones ripple beneath his skin, and a wave of fear washed over me. Shit. I’d seen this happen before. And although there was no fear of discovery by humans in this place, if he let his wolf force the shift like this, he might never come back.
“Fuck. Go—help him. We’ve got her.” Noah jerked his head to me and West before crouching down by Sariah’s side to tend to her wounds.
From the cursory glance I’d gotten, it looked like the skin had been broken, but the gashes weren’t deep. Not worth Rhys letting his wolf kill a man over.
West’s dark eyes met mine above Sariah’s head, and then the two of us were moving. My heart thudded unevenly in my chest as we reached Rhys, who stood with his feet planted, face contorted with fury. His grip on the man’s face was so tight that his fingers dug into the skin, and he practically lifted him off his feet.
“Rhys!”
I came around to his right side, West on the other. When I grabbed his arm, I could feel the muscles shudder and shift beneath my touch.
“It’s all right, brother.” West’s voice was slow, controlled. “Sariah’s all right.”
“Don’t leave us, Rhys. We need you,” I whispered, trying to sound half as calming as West. “Let him go. It’s not worth it. Just breathe.”
Rhys blinked, his gaze quickly flicking from me to West and back. He barely seemed to recognize who we were at first, but the second time his eyes focused on me, I saw something change in their bright blue depths. His expression softened slightly, and with agonizing slowness, as if he were prying iron bars apart, he unclenched his fingers from Daniel’s face.
Finally, he dropped his hand, although he didn’t step back. The muscles of his arm and shoulder were hard as steel under my touch, but at least they’d stopped rippling.
“It’s okay, Rhys,” I repeated gently, forcing myself to focus on him and nothing else.
The shifters around us were silent, watching and waiting anxiously. Then I heard several low murmurs, and the crowd parted to make way for Val. She strode through their midst angrily, her hazel eyes flashing as she took in the scene. Her long auburn hair fell down her back in a thick braid, and the crescent-shaped scar that curved around the right side of her face made her look fierce and dangerous.
“What the fuck is going on here?”
Tara stammered something unintelligible, and Daniel blinked, swallowing hard. “I—I didn’t mean to hurt her.”
“That’s not what I asked.” The shifter woman’s tone was as sharp and cold as glass. “I asked. What. Happened.”
“Daniel and I had a… a disagreement,” Tara admitted, her gaze darting around like a nervous butterfly. Her arms were wrapped around her naked torso, and if she’d still been in wolf form, I was certain her tail would’ve been between her legs. Val wasn’t the pack alpha, but she was plenty intimidating in her own right. The Lost Pack all treated her with deference, and even the new shifters listened when she spoke.
“So you took it out on this girl?”
Val pointed to Sariah, who was standing by now, surrounded protectively by Jackson and Noah. Noah had taken off his shirt to wrap it around her injured forearm, and the muscles of his chest and arms flexed as he moved.
“No! I would never!” Tara looked stricken at the thought, and when she glanced at Sariah, tears welled in her eyes.
“I wouldn’t either,” Daniel said, his voice gruff and quiet. He looked down, choosing to address the ground rather than meet Rhy
s’s or Val’s eyes. Smart man. “It was an accident. She grabbed me and I—I lashed out. I just wanted her to let go! I didn’t mean to hurt her.”
A growl rumbled in Rhys’s chest, and I gripped his arm tighter, the gesture half comforting and half restraining. On his other side, West did the same, murmuring quiet words in his ear.
Val turned to face Sariah, narrowing her eyes at the girl. “You should know better than to get in the middle of a fight like that. Only an alpha can do that.”
Jackson scoffed, but zipped his lips quickly when Val tossed a stern glare his way. I was with him on that though. If Alpha Elijah was the only one who could break up the fight, where was he? Hiding in his quarters like always? It seemed to be what he fucking did best. He’d formed this pack on a foundation of fear, with the singular goal of hiding from Strand forever.
“I know.” Sariah dipped her head repentantly. “I just didn’t want to see anyone fighting. We saw enough of that back at…”
Her voice trailed off, and I saw her throat move as she swallowed hard.
Fuck. I knew plenty of wolves had died in the Strand complex as a result of the sick experiments the doctors had performed on them in an attempt to find new variations or bring out new strengths. But had they fought among themselves? Cooped up in the holding pen like they had been, forced to live like animals, I wouldn’t be surprised.
Or—an even worse thought made my blood run cold—had Strand made them fight each other? Had it been part of their “training”?
Val’s expression shifted as she watched Sariah bite her bottom lip. Rhys’s sister was one of the youngest wolves in the camp, and that, combined with her sweet demeanor and kind heart, had made almost everyone take an instant liking to her.
Even Val, who’d never struck me as the overly sentimental type.
“It’s all right, Sariah,” she said softly. “You were trying to do the right thing.” Her tone hardened again as she spun in a circle, addressing the gathered shifters. “Clear out! There’s nothing else to see here. You two”—she jerked her head toward Daniel and Tara—“will come with me. We’ll see what the alpha has to say about this.”
The onlookers all drifted away, shooting glances back at us. Daniel and Tara kept several feet between them, and tension filled the space like an electric charge. I knew they wouldn’t try anything else with Val here, but I also knew whatever their dispute was, it was far from over. Without getting to the root cause of it, it wouldn’t be fixed.
Rhys finally stepped away from me and West, and all three of us moved toward Sariah. Now that his determination to maul Daniel had died out, worry filled his ice-blue eyes again. But as we crouched down beside her, a shadow fell over us.
The alpha had finally decided to arrive—much too late to be of any use.
“Alpha Elijah.” Val dipped her head quickly, her tone deferential. But was there a hint of censure in it too? “I’m glad you’re here. There was another fight. These two shifters had a disagreement and decided to settle it as wolves.”
The large man with the scruffy beard and shaggy brown hair shook his head. He was middle-aged but still in impressive shape, maybe due in part to his shifter genetics. He crossed his arms over his broad chest as he stared down at us, hardly acknowledging Val’s words.
“I don’t know what you expect me to do. I offered you a haven—you and all your friends. But every day, your presence places a strain on this once-peaceful pack.”
Guilt rose up in me. I didn’t want to be the cause of strife for anyone. But I forced it down, reminding myself that just because Alpha Elijah said that was the problem didn’t mean it was true. Maybe the strain wouldn’t be as great if he put any effort into blending the two packs together. If he hadn’t treated us like untrustworthy outsiders from day one.
“I’m running out of patience. Get your people under control,” Elijah growled, “or none of you will be welcome here anymore.”
Noah opened his mouth to speak—he was the calmest and most level-headed of the group, so he often took the lead on things like this—but before he could say a word, I sprang to my feet.
“That’s not fair! You didn’t even see what happened. Hell, I don’t even know how it started. You can’t automatically assume it was the Salt Lake shifters who were to blame!”
Alpha Elijah’s blue eyes blazed, widening slightly, as if he was shocked to have someone talk back to him like this. It definitely wasn’t smart, and if my blood hadn’t been thrumming so hard through my veins, I might’ve cared more about that fact.
“We lived in peace for years before you arrived. So it’s any easy assumption to make.”
“Don’t you understand how traumatized these shifters are? What they’ve been through? Everyone here has been through something, so why can’t you have a little more sympathy for them? I’m not saying it’s gonna be easy, but if we actually tried, I truly believe we could all get along!”
My chest was heaving, and now that I’d started my rant, there were a million more things I wanted to say to the alpha. But he seemed to swell before my eyes, his muscles bunching up as he rose to his full height.
“Young shifter, you will not speak to your alpha like that. Ever. Again.”
Four bodies crowded close behind me, and I could practically hear the four wolves inside my mates growling in unison, begging to be released.
Shit.
I forgot that when I threw my weight around, measly as it might be, I inevitably ended up throwing around the weight of four dominant, powerful shifters.
But it wouldn’t do any of us any good to fight with the alpha like this. I’d seen his wolf—it was massive. If one of my mates went toe-to-toe with him and got hurt, I’d never forgive myself. And if we got kicked out of the pack, what would happen to the other shifters we’d brought here with us?
“You’re… right. I’m sorry.” I forced my gaze down to the large man’s feet, letting him see my surrender. Then I glanced up, finding his eyes again as I spoke fervently. “But please, Alpha Elijah. Help us keep the peace. Before something like this happens again.”
I gestured around me at the pavilion, catching sight of Tara and Daniel eyeing each other thoughtfully as I did. I wondered how much any of them knew about each other’s histories. There seemed to be a natural instinct to keep that pain private, but maybe it would be better if people talked about it—our shared trauma was why we were all here, after all. Strand had stolen all of our lives and forced us into these new, barely recognizable ones.
The alpha took a deep breath, and his voice softened, though mistrust still gleamed behind his eyes. “I’ll do what I can, Alexis. I’ll do what I can.”
Chapter Three
“Did you see her lay into the alpha like that?” Jackson punched the air gleefully as we walked through the dimly lit corridor inside one of the barracks toward our quarters. Old hand-crank lanterns hung on the walls, spaced just close enough together to make the passageways navigable. “Total. Fucking. Badass.”
“It was stupid,” I grumbled. “I should’ve kept my damn mouth shut.”
“I’m not surprised someone snapped from the strain.” Noah shook his head, looking torn between worry and humor. “I just would’ve expected it to be Jackson or Rhys.”
“Me too.” Rhys had his arm wrapped around Sariah’s shoulders, and from the look on his face, he was seriously contemplating turning around to find Alpha Elijah and finish what I’d started.
“I just got so mad.” I trailed a finger along the cool wall. “He acts like it’s our shifters causing all the trouble, but it’s not. I shouldn’t have said anything though. It was impulsive and reckless.”
“Great,” West drawled. “Jackson’s rubbing off on her.”
“Hey, look at that!” Jackson grinned at me, his smile devilish in the shadowy light. “She’s picking up all our best qualities. What’d she get from you, West? The stick up your ass?”
“She didn’t get anything up the ass from me,” West growled, and Ja
ckson guffawed, his laughter echoing off the walls.
Rhys put his hands over Sariah’s ears, and she ducked away, shooting him a look that said she’d heard much worse.
I blushed furiously, avoiding West’s eyes, but I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips. The weight of my worry was so heavy these days it felt like being trapped under a pile of rubble, and Jackson’s goofy humor lifted that weight, if only temporarily.
We turned left down a short hallway, stopping outside the room the guys and I shared.
When we’d been camped out at Molly’s house in Vegas, I remembered thinking that even if she had more rooms to offer, none of us would’ve taken her up on it. The mate bond between us was so strong the idea of having separate rooms made my skin itch. I needed my men closer than that, needed to feel them near me when I slept.
For the ten years I’d lived in the Strand complex outside Austin, I’d slept alone in a small twin bed. I never, ever wanted to go back to that.
Sariah’s room was right next to ours and only slightly smaller, though neither of them were big. But Rhys led us past hers, pushing open the door to ours. We all piled inside, and Rhys turned on the lantern on the wall, bathing the small room in flickering light.
It was sparsely furnished—just a low chest along one wall, a small bed against another, and a basket by the door for laundry. Several of the large storage buildings hadn’t been completely emptied out when the base was abandoned, and the Lost Pack shifters had scrounged through all of it, using and modifying whatever they could to make this place livable.
Jackson opened the chest, which doubled as a bench seat, tossing me fresh clothes before pulling some out for himself.
As we dressed, Noah made a beeline for one of the packs in the corner. He rummaged around inside it for a second before pulling out a small first aid kit.
“This is the last of our stuff. After this, we’ll have to use whatever they have here.” He shot a glance back at us, lips quirking in a lopsided smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “So nobody else get hurt, okay?”