I’m willing to learn, to do whatever it takes, but doing it alone is so much harder.
Why am I so physically drawn to Rylan? When he touched me, kissed me, moved his hands over my body, I wanted him so badly; just as much as I want my boys, but there’s still a hollow there between us. I do not respect him or love him. I don’t even like him.
That’s first and foremost what’s missing between us. What separates this mate of mine from the boys.
That, and any sign of a heart in Ryland.
Rylan killing Kera for sneaking letters to me was horrific. I already miss her so badly. I can’t believe he could take her whole life from her, just for bringing letters to me. And how did he even find out about it, anyway? I wonder for a fleeting moment if maybe Sergei might have found out and told him … but then push the thought from my mind. I don’t know who to trust in this place, but I do have a good deal of confidence in him.
Sergei couldn’t have turned in Kera without exposing himself, I’m sure of it.
At least I have an ally in him.
For however long that lasts, now.
I don’t know much, but I do know that courage wavers in the face of death. Rylan has shown his hand, and it is heavy. I’ll be lucky to get any help from here on out.
I slide the bloodstained letter from beneath my pillows and stare at the writing on the front.
Teague wrote it. I know right away from the shape of the looping letters.
He’s got the best handwriting—meaning something meant more than to be just legible. I lift the envelope to my nose and breathe it in. I can still smell their scents. They’re mingled with the scents of others who probably handled the letter for them, but they’re there. It smells like comfort and love to me, like happiness, and like home.
Goddess, I miss them so much.
Savoring the scent a little longer, I finally look down at the treasure in my hand and turn it over, gently slipping my nail beneath the flap and carefully opening it. I slide the letter out and unfold it.
At first, there’s a smile on my face … but it doesn’t last long.
We love you, Sydney … but there’s a war coming and we can’t stop it.
My throat thickens as I read on.
The incubi and succubi have gathered from several corners of the world to converge upon Rylan and take him down. And they’re going to strike soon. Too soon.
My heart begins to thump faster as I read on, fast enough that I have to work to control it. I don’t want Rylan or some guard bursting in here afraid I’m having a heart attack or something. But I might be.
From the words in Teague’s letter, there’s not much time—and even less to make sure I don’t get caught up in the fighting. To these incubi and succubi I’m just another shifter within Rylan’s walls.
Another traitor. Another murderer.
And in a way … I am.
I have to stop reading the letter for a moment to close my eyes. I keep seeing Kera’s face the moment before Rylan killed her. For me. For helping me.
Maybe I deserve to be caught up in the fighting. I failed these creatures. I tried to save them, but I failed them.
I understand it. If I was them, I’d want retribution too.
Suddenly my eyes fly open.
No. Not if I was just one of them. I want retribution too, now, as myself. As a shifter.
And I have a plan. I have to remind myself of that … but even if it works, the demons don’t know about my vision, or the flower, or my plans to kill Rylan. If I can manage it, they won’t need to start a war here, and blow the compound up.
But there’s no way for them to know that.
The boys tell me that they are going to go on the crimson flower mission for me and do everything they can to get it to me as soon as possible … so I just need to hold on and do all I can to stay safe. I will, but what if they don’t get it to me in time, before the demons attack?
Teague tells me that Elon has contacts within their group, and he’ll try to get them to wait for me to do what I need to do, but there are no guarantees. Right now, the war is on.
A war that, if I get caught up in it, I’m sure to be slaughtered. I look and smell just like the rest of the shifters here.
Rylan might have a veritable army here within the compound, but from the sounds of the numbers that are gathering … there’s still a good possibility he’ll be overwhelmed.
At least I’ve been warned. At least I know about it. I wonder if there’s any way that I can get a message to the demons myself, through their people here in the compound. I must do all that I can to try to stop the war.
But only if I still am sure I can stop Rylan.
Elise and Mara come to ready me for bed. Their silence marks a heartbreak that surpasses even mine. Neither one will speak to me other than to answer yes or no. I can’t push them, however. Not when they’ve lost the equivalent of a sister.
All I can do is be as kind to them as possible and show them that I am still on their side. And hope they’re still on mine. I wonder silently if they blame me for Kera’s death, since it was my letter she was bringing to me that got her killed. I can’t ask, and much to my sorrow, they will not say.
Not on their own.
When I wake in the morning, I’m given a message on my coffee tray—the first of its kind, and one that immediately makes my stomach turn. Rylan is having a meeting at eleven in the morning, and I am to attend it. It’s a surprise, considering what happened at the last meeting, when I was evicted from it.
I can only imagine what he wants me there for. Part of me is worried he’s heard about the incubi gathering. As much as I’m afraid of being caught in the crossfire, I’d hate for their plans to be thwarted entirely … especially when there’s still a chance my own plan will fail. If I fail, someone needs to keep Rylan in check.
If I fail, there’s a good chance I’ll end up dead, anyway. At least if I died and the war was still on, then there’d be one last chance for Rylan’s rule to end.
I ready myself, dressing as smartly as I can so that I exude professionalism, confidence, strength, and even some elegance. I hope that it draws some respect. I certainly don’t want them all looking at me the way Rylan had me decked out like a hooker in that thin gold dress with most of my skin showing the other night. I am not a piece of meat, not another one of his demons sold out to the highest bidder.
I want very much to make that clear to him, and to all of them.
Though Mara and Elise dress me, they still say nothing. They can’t even bring themselves to look me in the eye, as if meeting my gaze will seal their fate the same way it did Kera.
As they move to walk out the door of my bedroom, I call out to them. I can’t just let this go on, not without acknowledging their loss.
Our loss. I might have only known Kera for weeks, but her loss has left me floundering even more than before.
“I miss her too. I’m so sorry she’s … gone.” My voice trails away.
They stop and look over their shoulders at me. I can’t begin to guess what they’re thinking, though my wolf shifter senses are straining to pick up anything. There’s just nothing there. It’s as if they are numb from the top of their heads down. They just nod and leave.
I will keep working on it, trying to rebuild the bridge that was there before Rylan decimated it with his cruelty. A knock sounds at the door.
It’s Sergei.
He glances at my attire and hair and gives me a small smile of approval. At least that’s something.
“You look as you should. You’ll make a good impression in there,” he tells me quietly. I know he didn’t like the way that Rylan made me dress last night, and it’s encouraging. Maybe he sees me as the queen I will become, and he doesn’t think that a queen should be shown in such poor light. Who knows.
We walk around the balcony to Rylan’s side, and to the same door again that I was sent away from at the last meeting. This time the door is opened to me, and I’m welcomed in. Rylan is standing at
the head of the table as he was before. He indicates the chair beside him; it’s more lavish than the others, but not so exquisite as his. It is the chair of a queen, but still subordinate to her king.
I take it silently and look around the table at a sea of faces—most of them men. All of them are shifters, though I only recognize some of them, and I suspect that a few are visiting dignitaries from other packs.
Rylan is the last to take his seat. All eyes are on him. Sergei and several other hunter guards line the walls around us at varying intervals. They stare straight ahead as if they are robots in standby mode. Ready to be called into action, but otherwise without any sign of involvement in what is going on around them.
“We are meeting today to deal with a regrettable situation,” Rylan begins, and then nods to Sergei. The captain of the guard goes to the door and opens it. Two hunters haul a man in, bound with chains at the wrists and ankles.
Rylan narrows his eyes and growls at the man, curling his lip.
I feel my face immediately pale, and I know in an instant why I’ve been brought here.
“Bastian was one of our own numbers. He was a senior pack member here, amongst the Sentinels, but two nights ago, he tried to leave.”
Rylan rises gradually to his feet, and buttons his business jacket at the front as he begins to walk slowly around the great table, his eyes locked on the man, who definitely looks worse for the wear.
“Can you tell me, Bastian, why it is that you were trying to leave?”
Bastian lifts his chin defiantly. “I wanted a different life. A better life.”
Rylan raises his brows and looks at the faces around the table, indicating them with his upturned hand. “A better life than what you have here?”
“Yes,” Bastian answers simply.
Rylan nods silently, as if he’s giving consideration to what Bastian has told him. He reaches a hand to his chin and rubs it thoughtfully.
“And, what is it, exactly, that made you want to leave here? What made you think that anything outside the walls of this compound, outside the safety and strength of this pack might be better?”
Bastian glares at him. “Kindness. Compassion. A good leader.”
Rylan’s brows remain aloft, as if in mock surprise, as though this is possibly the first time anyone has ever said anything even remotely like this to him.
“A good leader? My, my. And … you don’t think I’m a good leader?” Rylan asks evenly, as if they might be discussing something as mundane as wallpaper.
My heart begins to pound. Rylan is toying with him. He’s mocking him before the group to show his prowess and power. It’s revolting.
“No,” Bastian answers honestly; his voice frosted over with ice. “You’re cruel and callous. You’re a murderer, and you don’t care about anyone in your pack or in your service. You only care about yourself.”
Rylan nods and slides his hands into his pocket, as if he might not be able to come up with a retort for the complaint, as though it may be true. A surrendering move, maybe—but I know it’s a lie. I can smell it.
I know what’s coming, and so does everyone else here—obvious from the way they shift ever so slightly away from the traitor dragged into our midst.
Rylan takes a few casual steps toward Bastian. He’s close now, only a couple of feet away. Bastian is staring him right in the eye; he’s not at all afraid. It’s as if he knows the worst could come, and he doesn’t care. He’s willing to face it. It’s utter courage under fire, and I must admit to admiring him for it.
“So, you planned to defect to another pack, or perhaps set out on your own, to escape a life here with all of us, because you thought you could do better.”
“I know I could do better.”
Rylan nods again and looks down, as if he’s thinking it over. Slowly he raises his head and his cold, hate-filled eyes lock on Bastian’s. I see Bastian begin to tremble, but he holds his ground and meets the cold stare.
“You know, don’t you Bastian, that the thing I demand most from every single person in my pack and in my service—the law which is sacred above all others—is loyalty, don’t you.”
It isn’t a question.
Bastian doesn’t speak.
Rylan says it in his stead.
“Loyalty. Bastian. Loyalty is the most sacred of all my laws. It is of the highest order here, and more than any other law we commit ourselves to, that is the one which can never, never be broken. You understand that, don’t you, Bastian?”
Bastian remains silent still.
Rylan glares into Bastian’s eyes, as if he is peering into his very soul.
“You defiled that sacred law when you tried to leave. You were going to abandon your own pack … your family, and take off to join another one.”
You could hear a pin drop in the room, and I can now hear that my own heart isn’t the only one that’s beating rapidly. I can see beads of sweat forming on a few hairlines in the room, and I can taste the fear and discomfort in the air. It’s growing thicker, more pungent.
“You know the punishment for this, don’t you?”
Rylan’s voice has turned hollow and it’s the coldest thing I’ve ever heard. Rylan turns to look at me for a moment, breaking the tie between him and his prisoner. His dark eyes meet mine, and this time we hold a steady gaze.
“My bride to be is with us today. This is Sydney. As you know, she and I are to be married on the full moon, which is coming up very soon. We are her new pack. Her new family. It’s something she’s never had before, so I want her to see just how strong the bond is here, between us all. How dedicated we are to one another. I want her to see what she is now a part of, and what happens when someone tries to betray the pack, betray their leader, and break the bond, dishonoring their vow of loyalty.”
In the blink of an eye, his hand transforms into a claw, and he drives it into Bastian’s chest. With an animal roar, he rips his hand out of the hole in Bastian’s chest, and in his claw sits Bastian’s heart.
Bastian’s eyes are wide with shock, and his mouth hangs slack, as if he has stopped in the middle of saying something, in the middle of a breath, as if he’s too surprised to continue. Blood begins to gush from the gaping hole in his chest.
Rylan turns his claw upside down, and the heart falls with a sickening splat to the floor. Rylan’s claws reshape into a human form.
I should be shocked … but I’m not. Not after he murdered Kera in front of me.
Part of me is disgusted with how quickly I’ve already become numb to his displays of cruelty.
With his clean hand, Rylan pulls a crisp white handkerchief from the inside pocket of his suit jacket, and he begins to wipe the blood from his fingers. Bastian’s corpse falls with a heavy thud. Rylan looks down at it in disgust and waves his hand dismissively.
“Clean this up. I don’t want it staining the floor. Go and feed him to the alligators in the river.”
A team of demon servants scramble to do as Rylan has decreed. He finishes wiping most of the blood away from his skin and then unceremoniously drops the handkerchief on Bastian’s back, as he walks away.
His eyes meet mine again, and I see surprise in them; ever so slight.
It’s only in this moment that I realize I am clenching my jaw so tightly that it has begun to hurt. It’s only then that I notice that my hands are clenched with rage into fists on the table before me. It’s only in that moment that I feel the fire burning all throughout me, and the heat in my face.
“You object to this punishment, my dear?” Rylan asks with a note of curiosity.
I rise from me seat, planting my fingertips against the table so firmly that they turn white, and my fingernails turn pink.
“How could you take his life like that? He only wanted to leave! There’s no reason in the world why he couldn’t just be let go. If he doesn’t want to be here, then show him the door and let him find a new life somewhere else. His leaving does nothing to hurt your pack or even your heart! He did nothing w
rong, and yet you’ve murdered him!”
I have to stop for the briefest second just to catch my breath. “At worst he might have pinched your pride, but nothing more. This was absolutely monstrous! Your reaction is that of a coward! A truly strong leader would have given him his freedom without a second thought. A great leader would not be concerned with such a trifling matter. All you did was show everyone in this room that one simple member of the pack was a tremendous threat to you. How strong can you be, if one single wolf beneath you is a threat that must be dealt with in such a show of force? This is not leadership; it’s fearful insecurity.”
I declare it furiously, bitterly, and the venom in my voice floods out of me as if I’ve exploded. I know that part of it is because of what he did to my handmaiden last night, but he’s done it again, and it looks to me like no one else around me has the courage to call him out on it and tell him he’s wrong. He is ego and power running rampant and unchecked.
Someone has to call him on it, and who better than me?
Who else but me … the only shifter here he might pause to consider for a moment before he murders?
Rylan moves with alarming swiftness around the table to me, outrage burning all over his face. I can feel it in a tidal wave before he even comes near me, but I do not cower from it. I have cowered before too many men all my life, including my ex-boyfriend, and I am done letting men lord themselves over me. I am not the scared, fearful young girl I once was. Not anymore.
Not when I have nothing left to lose but my own life. A life that, as it still stands, will be spent in agony and slavery to this man unless my whisper of a plan succeeds.
He stops short mere inches before me, his breath ragged, his fury an inferno.
“How dare you speak to me in such a way. I am your lord and master! I am a god to you; do you understand that? Let me make it crystal clear.”
In a single movement, his hands are around my throat, and he shoves me down to my knees before him. He’s squeezing so tightly that all I can do is grip his wrists with every ounce of strength in my body and do my best to try to pry him off so that I can at least breathe.
All around me the sounds of his advisors and members of his pack begin to call out his name, begging him to stop, but none come to pull him from me. At least, none of the pack members. I see Sergei’s hands reaching for him just as he shoves me to the floor. He glowers down at me.
Alpha Returned: A Rejected Mates Reverse Harem Shifter Series (Feral Mates Book 3) Page 11