by Sadie Moss
“That’s good.” Noah tried to hide a yawn behind his hand, but it stretched too wide. Then he blinked rapidly as if trying to wake himself up. “But if we’re gonna do this, we need to start now. Who knows what they’re doing as we speak.”
Fear prickled my skin. He was right.
“I’ll go.”
“Oh, hell no.” Jackson chuckled, stepping away from the door to tug me into his embrace. He brushed my wild mess of soot-filled hair back from my face. “Listen, sweetheart, we all try to curb our protective instincts enough to let you be your badass self, but every once in a while, you gotta let us have one. You’re staying right the fuck here and getting some sleep.”
Warmth bloomed in my chest, spreading through my body to fill my tired, sore limbs. I had never been loved like this before, so wholly, so completely, and sometimes I thought my heart would burst from the feelings these men brought out in me.
“Okay.” I caught his palm, pressing it to the side of my face. “But I want to help with this.”
“Me too,” Sariah said suddenly, drawing everyone’s attention. She blinked under the weight of five gazes but pressed her lips into a firm line. “You need the extra help. And besides, they’ll be less likely to suspect I’m watching them than any of you.”
I expected Rhys to immediately object, but his gaze flashed to me quickly before landing on his sister. Then he nodded. “Of course you can help, Sah. We need you.”
A look of pride stole across her face, and I swore her chest expanded. She seemed to grow two inches as she sat up straighter, determination glinting in her eyes.
I padded over and slipped my arms around Rhys from behind, resting my forehead against his back and letting my fingers splay across his taut stomach. He still smelled like smoke, ash, and sweat, but I didn’t care. I knew how much it cost him to allow Sariah to risk herself in any way. He’d spent six years obsessively searching for her, determined to save her—and now that he had her back, he was terrified of losing her again.
But no matter how much we want to, we can’t keep the people we love locked away from the world.
Chapter Fourteen
The entire base smelled like a bonfire for the next several days. Alpha Elijah, the Elders, and the other residents of the destroyed barracks moved into other unused rooms—though thankfully, the room across from Marcus and Walker remained empty.
A claustrophobic feeling settled over the pack as we were crammed closer together, and I caught members of the Lost Pack exchanging distrustful glares with the Salt Lake shifters. Everyone was on edge, and several skirmishes broke out amongst the wolves. We’d all joined together without thought to fight the fire, but in the aftermath, that feeling of community faded quickly. Fortunately, Alpha Elijah had finally decided to get involved, so he shut down the fights before any serious injuries were dealt.
Marcus and Walker, who didn’t quite fit in with either pack, were largely ignored by everyone except me and my mates.
Jackson had been right. It wasn’t easy keeping a constant eye on them in secret, and I worried they’d slip our watch and do something awful. But the tension simmering in the air convinced me this was our only choice. If we revealed our suspicions too soon, it would spark violence and unrest throughout the entire pack.
We split time, dividing up into pairs to observe the two shifters while the others covered for us in our duties around the camp. At night, two of us would sneak through the window of the empty room in their barracks and crack the door open, watching to make sure they didn’t leave their quarters. Their rooms faced the interior of the building, so there was no chance of them taking a page from our book and sneaking out through a window.
So far, none of us had seen any suspicious activity, and I couldn’t decide whether I was pleased or disappointed by that. I hoped the two shifters were innocent, that they hadn’t been responsible for the fire, but cruel experience had taught me to listen to the nagging voice in my head that whispered, “Something is wrong.”
On the sixth night after the fire, West and I were on guard in the empty room, keeping watch through the thin crack in the door into the hallway beyond.
I leaned back against the wall as a small sigh escaped my lips.
“What is it, Scrubs?”
West looked down at me as he whispered the question, his dark features shadowed in the dim light from the window. His arm brushed against mine as we sat side by side on the floor, making my skin tingle warmly. He’d been different since the fire—more willing to touch me, to look at me. I could tell he was still fighting a battle within himself, but for the moment, things felt better between us.
“I just hope this is worth it.” I rested my head on his shoulder. “All this sneaking around after Marcus and Walker. And I hate that we can’t trust them. Like Jackson always says, shifters should look out for each other.”
His shoulder moved under my cheek as he shrugged. “They should. But fear makes people do fucked up things.”
I huffed a quiet laugh. “Sometimes I can’t remember what it feels like not to be afraid. Not to be constantly waiting for the next bad thing to happen.”
“Couldn’t tell ya.” His tone was teasing, but a darkness shadowed his words. We lapsed into silence for several minutes before he spoke again. “Her name was Cat.”
My heart stuttered to a stop, hanging suspended in my chest as I held my breath. I didn’t need him to clarify—from the tone of his voice, I knew exactly what he was talking about. His mate. The one Strand had chosen for him, forced on him.
“Funny name for a wolf shifter,” he continued. “But I’m sure her parents had no idea what her future held when they named her.”
“No. They couldn’t have.”
Slowly, gingerly, I lifted my head off West’s shoulder, craning my neck so I could see his face. He was staring straight ahead, gaze locked on the small crack between the door and its frame.
“Strand was always doing some experiment or other. They kept tweaking the dosage of whatever serum they gave us, trying to get the change to happen quicker, or our wolves to be bigger or stronger. But they did other experiments too, even after our wolves were called—like they were trying to figure out what made us tick.”
West’s voice was low and dull, a report of the facts with no emotion attached. I knew he was trying to stop himself from feeling, from reliving the memories as he spoke them, and I wished I could help him somehow. Lend him strength.
My hand sought his in the darkness, and his fingers threaded through mine, gripping so tight it was almost painful.
“No shifter female was ever able to get pregnant. Strand tried. They tried every fucking thing they could think of. Fertility drugs, IVF, surrogates. But there were limits to what even those damn doctors could do. Thank fucking Christ Sariah was only twelve, or who knows what—”
He broke off, his voice choking with emotion. Acid burned in my stomach as his words sank in, and I wished I could hug Sariah. I knew a little of what she’d gone through, but I was sure there were stories and memories she was still keeping locked up tight. Wounds that were still festering.
At least this—whatever West and Cat had gone through—wasn’t one of them.
But Jesus. Rhys’s intense protectiveness made even more sense now.
“In our complex, the test subjects were divided into male and female groups. We were kept in separate wings, not allowed to interact. That’s why when we escaped, we couldn’t take Sariah with us. I guess Strand gave that up eventually, once they realized it didn’t matter.” West was losing his battle to tame his emotions. His voice was like sandpaper as he continued. “They thought… maybe a mate bond would make pregnancy possible. They picked me and Cat. Our… genetics were compatible, and they said we were the most promising specimens they had.”
“Oh, West…”
He dragged my hand into his lap, and I felt a drop of wetness as a tear landed on it.
“They—fuck, I don’t know what they did. They drugged us,
used pheromones, used psychological tricks. They forced our bodies and our minds into thinking there was a mate bond. I had never felt anything like it. I needed her. Beyond any kind of rational thought, in a painful, consuming way, I needed her.” He sucked in a ragged breath, his voice so quiet I had to strain to hear it. “They tested that too. They separated us, put us in two rooms with a glass divider between us. Cat kept hurling herself against it, trying to get to me. Trying to reach me. And I was the same. I threw myself at it until I dislocated my shoulder, beat the glass until my fists were bloody. I was in human form, but I’ve never felt more like an animal.”
Every word he spoke was tainted with pain and self-loathing, and I could feel his hand trembling in mine.
“West,” I choked. “You don’t have to tell me—”
“No. I do.” He tilted his head down, finally meeting my eyes. “I’ve never told anyone. Not even my pack mates. Not all of it. But you… you deserve to know. Before you decide if you could really ever love me.”
I could barely make out his face in the darkness, but his eyes seemed to glow with an inner light as he stared at me. He needed this, I realized. He had carried these wounds with him for years, and because he’d never told anyone his secret shame, no one had been able to tell him it wasn’t his fault.
So even though a part of me didn’t want to hear any more, wasn’t sure I could bear it, I would listen.
I would be his confessor.
Lifting our joined hands to my lips, I kissed his fingers tenderly. “Then tell me, West. Please.”
It was quiet for several moments as his deep, shaky breaths filled the space. When he finally spoke, his voice was flat.
“I knew it wasn’t real. Some part of me always knew that. But I couldn’t control myself. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t stop.” He swallowed. “They kept us apart for days, until the only thing I felt was the need—it was like a hot poker in my brain, so intense it hurt. Then they put us in a room together, and I… we… we fucked each other. Over and over. We threw our bodies together just like we’d thrown them against the glass. But the pain didn’t stop. The need didn’t stop. Nothing would stop it.”
He swiped the back of his free hand over his eyes angrily.
“They watched us. I knew they did, those sick fucking bastards. They left us in that room and let us practically kill each other trying to make the craving stop. We were like animals, less than animals, wild things that only had one purpose.”
He stopped suddenly, his breathing shallow.
“Neither of us could control ourselves. We were both so fucked up on those goddamn pheromones, but it wasn’t love. Cat didn’t know me; she didn’t want me—not the real Cat, anyway, the one in her right mind. I don’t know how I let myself do that. How could I have done that?”
Tears streamed steadily down my own cheeks now, and I pushed down the sob that tried to tear from my throat. “West, I’m so, so sorry. It wasn’t your fault.”
He shook his head, refusing to hear my words. “Yes, it was. What we did to each other was… savage. Scratching and biting and—” He clenched his jaw. “Our bodies craved each other in a way my mind still can’t quite comprehend. My skin was covered in bruises and marks. And I hurt her too; I know I did. Whether she felt it at the time doesn’t matter. I still did it.”
My heart cracked at the hatred in his voice, knowing it was all directed inward.
“What… happened then?” I asked softly.
“They scrapped the experiment eventually. She wasn’t getting pregnant, and that’s all they’d wanted, so they pulled the plug on it. She and I had passed out between rounds of…” He cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “I came to in a room that smelled of blood, sex, and sweat. Cat was gone. And so was the need. That insatiable urge that had driven me for weeks, made us both do the most fucked up things, just—gone. Like they’d erased it. I never saw Cat again. I never got to say I was sorry, make sure she was okay, learn anything about her but her name. It was like they’d erased her too.”
I felt like I was drowning in sorrow, unable to break the surface to find air. I’d told myself I would be West’s confessor, but now that he had bared his soul, I didn’t know how to heal the tattered pieces.
West was a good man. I believed that with every fiber of my being. But I also knew if I were in his shoes, I would hold onto my guilt just like he was, no matter what anyone said. The doctors at Strand had been the ones who’d hurt and exploited both of them. They had been the ones to hurt Cat. But West had been the weapon.
“It fucked me up in the head,” he whispered. “I couldn’t forgive myself for what I’d done, and at the same time, I felt like I’d failed her. Like Strand had taken her… probably killed her… because I couldn’t love her right. Because I couldn’t make the bond real. I was messed up for a long time. My pack mates finally snapped me out of it because they were afraid Strand would terminate me too if I didn’t start functioning again. Start eating. Drinking.” He dragged in a long breath. “We broke out a year later, and on the outside, it was easier not to think about it.”
I nodded, fixing my gaze on the door ahead of us again as West’s quiet voice filtered into my ears.
“Then we met you. And I liked you right away, Scrubs. You were tough, right from the start, even when your life was crumbling around you. The other guys had had a few random hookups over the years, though none of them were anything serious. I never had, though. I hadn’t wanted anyone. But I wanted you.” He paused, and in the stillness, I swore I could hear his heart beating as hard as mine. “That kiss at the old Lost Pack camp? It felt perfect. Right. I’d never felt anything like that in my life.”
“Me neither,” I murmured.
“But after the accident, when you woke up and your wolf claimed us… I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t know if any of my feelings were real, and I—I was afraid I’d hurt you. That I’d lose control and wreck you. That if I let myself love you, it would destroy you.”
Tears still tracked down my cheeks, dripping off my chin. Prying his fingers loose from their death grip on mine, I ran my own fingertips over his dark skin, tracing lightly over his knuckles and fingernails, mapping his entire hand.
“These hands would never hurt me, West. They’ve only ever touched me with kindness. With love. You took care of me from the minute I met you, and I know that’s what you’ll always do.”
He shook his head emphatically, that stubborn denial of his innate goodness rising to the surface again. “You can’t know that.”
I thought about what Strand had done to all of us, what they might still do in the name of progress. The things they could take away and force on us with the right cocktail of drugs.
Their abuses and inhumanity were too numerous to count.
“No.” I continued moving my fingers over his. “I guess you’re right. I can’t. But I believe you’d never want to, West. That you’d fight with everything in you to do right by me. I trust you with my life. And I love you. There’s nothing you can tell me that will change that.”
His shoulders shifted as he pulled in a deep breath, and he dropped his chin to his chest. A sad chuckle fell from his lips. “I’m so fucking tired, Scrubs. I’m tired of fighting the way I feel. I see the others with you, joking around and hugging you, and it breaks my heart every damn time. I want that too. To touch you and kiss you and be near you, and to know it’s all my choice. To have it be… easy.”
The last word came out on a sigh, and he lapsed into silence, staring into the darkness.
I didn’t say anything. I just laced our fingers back together and rested my head on his shoulder.
After a while, our breathing evened out, falling into a synchronized rhythm. Our gazes focused on the door as our bodies leaned together, melting into each other.
And for a little while, it was easy.
Chapter Fifteen
“Scrubs. Hey, Scrubs.”
A gentle touch shook me, and I jerked awake, e
yes flying wide. “Wha—?”
West grimaced, pulling his hand away. “Sorry. It’s a little before dawn. Jackson and Sariah should be here to relieve us soon.”
I wiped a hand over my bleary eyes. “Oh shit! Did we fall asleep? Are Marcus and Walker—?”
“They’re in their rooms. They’ve been there all night. I kept an eye out.”
A groan fell from my lips. “Jesus. Some fucking spy I am.”
He chuckled. “Well, somebody decided to dump their sad-sack life story on you last night. No wonder you were exhausted.”
I tilted my head so I could peer up into his eyes. They had dark circles under them and were a little bloodshot, but something in their depths seemed different somehow. Clearer. There was a softness, an openness, that hadn’t been there before.
“I’m glad you told me, West.”
Hesitantly, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to my mouth. It was so light I almost couldn’t feel the brush of his lips against mine, but my heart jumped anyway.
“Oh, I see how it is! Is this what you guys do the whole time you’re on watch?”
The soft whisper from near the window made me jump, and West put a hand over my mouth before a yelp escaped.
He turned to glare at Jackson, who crouched near the windowsill, helping Sariah into the room. My mate’s teasing amber eyes watched me and West, and I got the feeling he would heartily approve if our answer was “yes.”
“No,” West growled softly. “And we wouldn’t still be on watch if you were on time.”
“Touché.” Jackson chuckled as he and Sariah padded softly over to us. He jerked his head toward the door. “Anything?”
“No. No movement.”
Jackson groaned. “Ugh. Come on, you fuckers. Do something, already.”
“What exactly would you like them to do?” West asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“I dunno. Something. I can’t take all this fucking waiting.”