Wolf Claimed

by Sadie Moss

  His fingers grasped my chin as he kissed me again, and I could feel the control it took for him to keep his touch light. If we’d been alone and I hadn’t been injured, I was sure he would’ve pressed me up against the door and made sure I felt the consequences of making him worry.

  But we weren’t alone.

  We were in a small room with three of his pack mates and his sister. And all of us except Sariah were currently naked.

  She had plopped down on the bed and seemed to be lost in her own thoughts, her gaze turned away from us, but flames still rushed to my cheeks. For the most part, I’d gotten over my shyness about nudity after spending so much time among shifters—but every once in a while, it struck me how insanely weird all of this was.

  I slipped out of Rhys’s hold, accepting the scrap of cloth West handed me. The others were already cleaning themselves off as best they could.

  “Um, can we talk about what the fuck just happened?” Jackson piped up again, dropping the rag he’d used to clean his wounds into the basket reserved for dirty laundry. “That Alexis challenged the alpha and fucking won?”

  “I didn’t mean to challenge him,” I muttered, focusing intently on wiping away the worst of the blood covering me. “I didn’t know that’s how it worked.”

  Chucking the wet, stained rag into the basket, I turned around. Noah handed me a fresh set of clothes, and I slipped them on, wincing. The wounds in my side and ear were starting to throb hard, as if those particular spots on my body had their own heartbeats.

  “Fuck. Come here.”

  West, now fully dressed, tugged me over to the chest that sat against the wall opposite the bed. He opened it to grab our meager first aid supplies before gesturing for me to sit.

  As soon as I gave my body the directive, my legs practically buckled. I’d been running on adrenaline and fumes, kept upright only by sheer force of will—and my will was just about tapped out too. My ass hit the seat heavily, and Noah came to sit beside me, bracing me up as West examined the damage to my ear.

  Rhys sat next to Sariah on the bed, putting an arm around her and tugging her into his side. She had a haunted look in her eyes, an expression of fear mixed with an almost relieved resignation that made my heart squeeze.

  I wasn’t the only one who’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  At least it finally had.

  “So…?” I drew out the word, glancing around the room. Jackson stood behind West with his arms crossed, watching his pack mate tend to my wounds. “What are we going to do?”

  Jackson pursed his lips. “Well, first thing is to set up a pack meeting, which you already took care of. We’re gonna need to get out of here soon, which shouldn’t—”

  “No. Not that,” I interrupted, shaking my head. The movement made West lose his grip on my ear, and I grimaced as his fingers slipped over the tears in the cartilage. Fuck, that hurt.

  “Then what?”

  “What am I going to tell everyone? How do I tell them it was all a big mistake?”

  West stopped messing with my ear, leaning back a little to get a better view of my face. “What was, Scrubs? What do you mean?”

  I blinked, my panic and agitation rising. How could they not understand? It was clear as goddamn day to me.

  “This.” I gestured to myself. “Me. It’s not— I mean, this can’t be right. I can’t just be the alpha.”

  A tiny, warm smile tilted his full lips. “Sure you can.”

  I sat up straighter, my jaw clenching as my heart raced. “Don’t say it like that! Like it’s that easy.”

  His smile fell, his deep brown eyes growing serious as he rested his hands on my knees. “I’m not kidding, Scrubs. And I’m not trying to freak you out. I know it’s not that easy. But it is that simple. You are what you are. And your wolf was meant to be an alpha.”

  Something inside me expanded at his words, like a balloon filling up with air. My gaze moved around the room, finding each of my mates gazing back at me with the same certainty and love as West.

  For the second time since Elijah had dropped to his knees before me, I felt a tiny spark of belief that I could do this. That I might be able to do some good as alpha. Because when it came down to it, I wouldn’t be alone.

  I would have my mates. Sariah. Val.

  And even in moments when I didn’t trust myself to have the strength or wisdom to deal with the challenges we faced, I knew I could always trust them.

  “Okay.” I drew in a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “Okay, I won’t step down. But please, don’t call me that when we’re alone. I don’t want you guys treating me differently—looking at me differently.”

  “Sure.” Jackson nodded, smirking slightly. “But if you think becoming alpha makes you any less attractive to me, you’re dead fucking wrong.”

  I chuckled, the sound ending in a hiss as West wiped ointment on my damaged ear. I tilted my head, giving Jackson a better view of the grisly mess.

  “Oh yeah? What about this?”

  “No way. I dig chicks with scars. And if they can put away donuts and hamburgers like nobody’s business, well…” He pressed a hand to his chest, staggering back a step. “Just call me a fucking goner.”

  I smiled, letting the goofball’s sweetness and love wash over me like a soothing rain, relishing this tiny moment of normalcy. I needed it, because…

  “That still leaves the other question,” I said, worry cramping my stomach again as the full events of the night flashed through my mind in fast-forward. “What do we do next? Jackson’s right. We can’t stay here.”

  “I don’t think we’ll have much trouble getting the rest of the pack on board with leaving,” Noah said softly. “Not once they find out Strand sent hunters here to observe us.”

  “Agreed.” Rhys nodded.

  Sariah’s head bobbed next to him. She knew the Salt Lake City shifters better than we did, so if she thought they would go along with us, I believed her. If anyone from either group resisted, I supposed I could just order them to come, but I didn’t want to start my time as alpha by throwing my weight around.

  “Great. So then the real big fucking question is, where the hell do we bring seventy-plus shifters in need of a new hiding place? And how the hell do we get Strand off our tail?”

  Jackson’s words hung in the air as silence fell over the room. They were very good questions. But I had no idea how to answer them.

  The tiny sense of hope I’d felt, the insane idea that I could help the Lost Pack, began to slip away like sand trailing through an hourglass. My chest squeezed as I fought to keep my breath under control, the weight of the responsibility I now carried threatening to crush me.

  West must’ve read the panic on my face, because he pushed my blood-matted hair back, cupping my cheek. “One thing at a time, Scrubs. We don’t have to solve all our problems yet. We just need to tackle one thing at a time.”

  Right.

  I could do this. I was used to this. To being on the run, to looking and leaping almost simultaneously, to keeping an eye out for threats at all times. It was the life I’d been living ever since my quiet stasis at Strand had been broken by the arrival of these four men.

  And we had made it this far.

  We would keep surviving.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  A sea of faces gazed up at me from the pews of the old chapel, the deep shadows making them appear almost ghostly. The sun was barely over the horizon, and only murky blue light filtered through the windows. Two lanterns blazed on the walls on either side of the small stage where I stood, flanked by the pack Elders. Elijah sat in the back, sandwiched between Val and another large shifter.

  I had met with them before the pack meeting officially started. It was the first time I’d had an extended conversation with any of them, and I’d felt more like an imposter than ever as I gazed into their faces. None of the shifters I’d ever met were truly old—either Strand didn’t waste resources experimenting on anyone above a certain age, or n
o one past a certain age survived their tests. But the Elders were still twice as old as I was.

  Joelle and Simon were my strongest supporters, promising to do whatever they could to help me wrangle the pack and keep them safe from the threat of Strand. The others seemed divided in their reactions to me, although again, no one openly spoke out against letting me take the reins.

  God, I hope this isn’t a huge mistake.

  Gripping the sides of the podium, I forced myself to focus. My mates were gathered off to the side, standing in a tight group with Sariah among them. I could feel their support radiating toward me like sunshine as I cleared my throat.

  “By now, you’ve all probably heard the news, whether directly or second-hand—Strand hunters have been observing this location. The two new shifters, Marcus and Walker, were coerced into infiltrating our pack so they could report back to Strand. My mates and I fought and killed the Strand hunters after they killed the two shifter spies.”

  A woman in the front pew lifted her hand tentatively, biting her bottom lip. “So… Strand knows where we are?”

  “Yes.”

  The confirmation of their worst fear set off a flurry of murmurs and exclamations among the pack, but I gestured for silence.

  “It’s true that Doctor Shepherd knows we’re here. But with any luck, he doesn’t know his hunters are dead yet. They were on a covert mission, so he may not be expecting to hear from them right away. Which could buy us some time. But we need to leave immediately if we want any chance of getting out alive.”

  “How? How will we get out alive?” another shifter asked, running a hand over his sweat-slicked forehead.

  “We’ll finish what Marcus and Walker started. We’ll burn the base. Then we’ll leave in several small groups, to make us harder to track, and meet up at a rendezvous point before finding a more permanent location.”

  “But where?” The first woman raised her hand again, her voice sad and insistent, as though she’d asked this question too often for too long and had never gotten a good answer.

  “We’re… we’re not sure. We think we’ve got a temporary solution, but it won’t work long-term. The only long-term solution I can see”—I glanced over at my mates, bolstering my courage, reminding myself why any of this mattered—“is to go after Strand itself.”

  The murmurs and whispers exploded into full-blown shouts and cries. I caught sight of Elijah in the back pew, watching me with an inscrutable look on his face. Was he angry at me? Disappointed? Embarrassed?

  Maybe he was just glad he was no longer the object of everyone’s ire. Glad he didn’t have to try to find a solution to this hopeless mess.

  Before the pack could tear each other to pieces, I raised both my hands. Miraculously, silence fell.

  “I know things have been strained. I know some of you probably wish things could go back to the way things were. But life doesn’t move backward, only forward. And fighting amongst ourselves doesn’t solve anything. Do you know what I saw the night of the fire? I saw Lost Pack shifters and Salt Lake shifters, people who had been at each other’s throats, put aside their differences and fight a common enemy.”

  The words came easily. These were thoughts I’d had every day for weeks, finally given voice.

  “Strand is the enemy. Not other shifters.” I paused for a breath, then added, “We won’t force any of you into this fight. Those who want to help are welcome to, in whatever capacity they can, but if you don’t want to go up against Strand, I truly will not make you. We’ll find the safest place we can for you to stay while we do what we can to end this threat.”

  Daniel stood up in the third row, his gaze flicking from me to my mates, and finally, to Sariah. Guilt flashed over his features before he shook his head and looked back at me. “There is no safe place as long as Strand exists. I believe that now more than ever. And I’m damn sick of hiding.”

  A murmur of assent spread through the crowd, and I saw a few heads nod.

  I gripped the edges of the podium as I leaned forward. “I think you’re right. The only good thing about the events of last night is that we know more about Strand than we did before.”

  “Like what?” the woman in the front asked. Hannah—that was her name. She was on her feet now too, as were several others scattered throughout the crowd.

  “Well, we know they’re planning to move all the current test subjects into a single facility to make room for new experiments. We know there’s a single substance that’s responsible for altering human DNA to create shifters. Doctor Shepherd and his men referred to it as ‘the source.’ I don’t know what that means, but if we can find out, maybe we can disrupt their supply and stop them from experimenting on anyone else.”

  Hannah’s eyes widened, and she nodded jerkily. She looked terrified, but I could see her shoulders squaring, her will hardening.

  Every single person in this room was a survivor. That meant different things to different people though. Some survived by putting their heads down, hiding and waiting with the patience of a prey animal. And some survived by fighting back, by going after the threat until it no longer existed.

  “As alpha, I promise I will do what I can to protect you. I can’t guarantee your safety. But we could die hiding or we could die fighting,” I said, sweeping the room with my gaze. “I know what I would choose. I spent ten years of my life waiting patiently for a cure that would never come. I don’t want to live like that anymore.”

  More nods and noises of support moved through the crowd like a ripple on a pond.

  “You don’t have to decide right now. And if, when the time comes, you decide you don’t have the stomach for more fighting, you won’t be punished. We’re a pack. We function best as a unit, even when we’re separated.” I shot a glance at West. “But, as a very wise man reminded me not long ago, we only have to face one challenge at a time. And our first one is to get out of here alive.”

  The room quieted again, everyone reclaiming their seats as they all leaned forward to hear more.

  I shoved aside my terrified awe at the way they all listened to me, focusing instead on laying out the plan my mates and I had come up with in our quarters.

  Like almost every plan we’d ever made, it could’ve used several more days of careful consideration, better equipment, and a bigger budget.

  But, like every other plan we’d ever made, we would make it work…

  Somehow.

  “God, I hope this doesn’t burn down the entire fucking forest.” Jackson squinted at the blaze as we stood in the tree line at the edge of the base, hefting the large pack higher on his back.

  “Actually, it’d be better for us if it does,” Noah put in grimly, his light blue eyes reflecting the orange and yellow of the flames. “It would help disguise our tracks even more.”

  Like the two buildings Walker had set on fire, the others went up easily. Large chunks of the structures were cement, but the wood that had been used was old and weatherbeaten, an easy meal for a hungry fire.

  The pack had gathered what they could carry, and a few groups had already set out. We would meet up near where we’d hidden the abandoned semi-truck. With any luck, it would still be there.

  And if it wasn’t…

  One thing at a time, Alexis. One thing at a time.

  My brain kept trying to race ahead, inventing disasters before they even struck. But as we turned away from the dancing, crackling, roaring flames that consumed our temporary home, Noah slipped his hand into mine, grounding me back in the present.

  “You did well back there,” he murmured.

  A very un-alpha-like snort escaped before I could stop it. “Yeah, right. Could you see me shaking?”

  “Only a little bit.” A smile filled his voice. “But it doesn’t matter. You said what you needed to. What they needed to hear.”

  I shook my head. “God, I hope so. I know it’s asking so much. They already escaped Strand once; why would they want to face those monsters again? And we can’t even say it�
��s for future generations, because there won’t be any.”

  “No. But it’s for all of us. For the lives we had ripped away from us, and the lives we could still have.”

  West drifted closer on my other side, peering at my bandaged ear. I could tell blood had soaked through the strips of fabric he’d wound awkwardly around it, but for the moment, I didn’t care.

  “Do you think we really have a chance against Strand?” I asked, glancing between the two men and keeping my voice low. I didn’t want the pack members in our group to hear their new alpha sounding doubtful. Not when I’d just sold them on this plan.

  “I honestly don’t know, Scrubs.” Noah squeezed my hand, the gesture much more comforting than his words.

  “What the hell is this ‘source’ Nils was raving about?” West put in. “I heard doctors at the San Diego complex mention something like that too, but they didn’t talk about it the same way he did. He sounded almost… reverent.”

  Noah shivered. “Yeah, he did. Creepy motherfucker. What did he call it? A gift from the gods? What the fuck does that mean?”

  An image flashed through my mind, and I closed my eyes for a second, counting on Noah not to let me fall. When I’d been trapped in Nils’s embrace in the woods, I’d pulled his hand away and noticed a tattoo on the inside of his wrist. It’d been the exact same design as the one on Doctor Shepherd’s wrist, I was sure of it. I’d only gotten a quick glance at the marking on Nils, but I’d spent hours staring at Doctor Shepherd’s tattoo during my many checkups, examinations, and consults.

  I could draw the image in my sleep—it was simple but beautiful, three connected triangles with an ornate twining circle in the center. Doctor Shepherd had rubbed his thumb over it often when he was lost in thought. The reverence with which he’d touched it had always made me think it was a religious symbol of some kind, though I’d never asked him what religion he practiced.