Spiral of Need

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Spiral of Need Page 2

by Suzanne Wright


  “No.”

  Of course not. Rachelle might be Beta female, but her level of dominance didn’t exceed Ally’s. Rachelle wouldn’t want to chance being defeated by someone of lower rank. “I’ve apparently harassed and attacked her. Her wolf should be going crazy for vengeance. That alone should have caused her to challenge me.”

  He scrubbed a hand down his face. “A part of her feels sorry for you. She said she can understand why you’re jealous. She admits that she’d feel just as devastated and bitter in your position. She even argued to keep you in the pack when Matt was ready to banish you.”

  Ally double-blinked, shocked. “She did what?”

  “She doesn’t want you to be out there all alone. She told Matt and me that if you apologize and vow to end your jealous behavior, she’ll even be happy for you to escape punishment.”

  And that was when Ally finally comprehended just what Rachelle had been trying to accomplish all along. Not drive Ally out of the pack. Not have her banished or executed—or at least not yet, anyway. No, Rachelle had been trying to isolate Ally. Trying to take away everything that was important to her. She wanted Ally to be miserable and alone, and she wanted a front-row seat to the show.

  “All you have to do is apologize,” Zeke repeated.

  Laughing humorlessly, Ally leaned forward. “Apologize to her? I’d rather exfoliate my skin with barbed wire and then dive into a pool of chlorine.” Something that Rachelle would know perfectly well. “Besides, I’m not in the habit of saying sorry for stuff I haven’t done.”

  Zeke cursed under his breath. “Ally, she’s trying to help you here.”

  Ally shook her head sadly. “I never thought you’d be so easily fooled.” If his mating bond with Rachelle had fully developed, he would have sensed that she was lying. But still, he should have known that Ally was innocent. Should have known that even if Ally had attacked Rachelle in a moment of rage, she wouldn’t have lied about it. Ally owned her shit. “So if you’re not going to cast me out, and she’s not going to challenge me, what’s the punishment for my fictional crime?”

  “If you don’t apologize to Rachelle, we’ll be forced to relieve you of your status.”

  The words were like a blow to the head. Status was everything to wolf shifters; it gave their wolves a clear purpose and stability. As such, to strip a wolf of their status was a very serious thing, designed to cut deep, to hurt both the wolf and the human side. And it did. “I see.” Her tone was flat, empty of any emotion, and gave away none of her wolf’s righteous anger.

  “Ally, look at me.” Whatever Zeke saw in her expression made him stiffen, as if bracing himself for impact. “I didn’t want things to be like this. Dammit, they don’t have to be like this.”

  “You’re right, they don’t. But they are because your mate is a goddamn story spinner.” Seeing that he was about to deny it, Ally quickly added, “Okay, explain to me why I would do these things she’s accused me of.”

  “Jealousy makes people do things they wouldn’t normally do,” he mumbled as he averted his gaze. The words sounded rehearsed. Ally got the feeling they were Rachelle’s words.

  “You know me, Zeke. You know me. How could you believe this crap? How could you believe I’d begrudge you for mating? We both knew the score when we got together; we knew it would end if one of us found our mate. This shit happens to shifter couples all the time,” she added with a nonchalant shrug.

  A mixture of irritation and hurt flashed on his face. “Don’t downplay what was between us, Ally. We came close to imprinting. Don’t deny it.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Look, I can understand if our abrupt separation and Rachelle’s presence here hurts you. I sure as hell wouldn’t have liked it if the situation were reversed, but I’d have respected it.”

  “I do respect your mating.”

  “Then why did you attack her?”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, I did not touch her.”

  “Then how do you explain the injuries she’s sporting?”

  “She must have done it all to herself!” Yes, Ally knew how that sounded, and it made her cringe. It was like the more she denied the allegations, the worse she looked. “I know she’s your mate, but I thought we were friends. You won’t even listen to me, you won’t even give me the benefit of the doubt!”

  “Because the evidence is all there! Rachelle’s got claw marks on her back, a bruised and swollen jaw, and the youths claim you left to pursue her. Then there are the text messages, the times you yelled at her, and the way you’re constantly angry—”

  “Wouldn’t you be angry if false accusations were being slung at you, and no one believed a word you had to say?”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why would she falsely accuse you of all these things?”

  “Personally, I’m thinking it’s to make you and the entire pack hate me, to leave me isolated and unhappy. But I’m open to the explanation that she grew up on a diet of paint chips and glue.”

  “I could never hate you.” He released a tired sigh. “I care about you, Ally, and I always will. But Rachelle’s my mate, and I can’t let you target her like this. Regardless of what you think, I really don’t want to ask you to step down from your position. But right now, the pack doesn’t feel like they can trust you.”

  Which meant they didn’t trust a word she said, and so any visions she claimed to have wouldn’t be trusted either. There was literally no place for her here. “Get me a transfer.”

  “A transfer?” He looked genuinely shocked. Um, why?

  “Yes, get me a place in another pack.” Leaving did feel a little too close to fleeing, and her pride balked at that. But it was better to leave than to entertain Rachelle with her misery any longer. Of course, Ally could go back to her childhood pack. Her foster uncles would welcome her with open arms. But it wasn’t a safe place for her; it would make her life more complicated and dangerous than it already was.

  Zeke seemed to struggle with words for a moment. “That’s not necessary. I know everyone’s upset with you right now, but their anger will cool. Things will be back to normal within a month.”

  “We both know that’s not true. I want a transfer.”

  His jaw hardened. “No.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  Again he seemed to struggle. “Like I said, it’s not necessary.”

  “It is to me. I want out of here.”

  “That won’t be easy.” He almost sounded pleased. “Any pack is going to be hesitant to take a wolf who was accused of attempting to kill their Beta female.”

  He was right, which meant she was stuck here unless she was prepared to choose the lone-wolf lifestyle—making her an easy target for the human anti-shifter extremists, not to mention other shifters. And Zeke didn’t appear willing to help her.

  She understood that Rachelle was his mate, and therefore his loyalty would be primarily to her; Ally wouldn’t expect anything less. But he was also the pack Beta and had taken an oath to protect his Alphas and each wolf within the pack. It was an oath he was now violating.

  “You’ve just lost what respect I had left for you.” And now she had to get out of there.

  “Ally, don’t storm out.”

  As she reached the door, she glanced back at him over her shoulder. “If you truly believe I attacked your mate, you’d have your hand around my throat, shaking me like a goddamn rag doll. But you don’t, because deep down you know, and your wolf knows, that it didn’t happen.” Ally swung the door open. “Anyway, there’s no need for me to be envious of her claim on you—I always give my used stuff to the needy and disadvantaged.”

  With that, Ally waltzed out and slammed the door shut behind her. Then, cursing a blue streak, she stormed out of the pack house into the humid night. This was seriously turning out to be the shittiest day ever. On the upside, it couldn’t get any worse, could it?

  When she walked into her wrecked cabin, she realized that, yes, actually, it could. Sitting on her slashed leather sofa, drain
ing one of Ally’s Coke bottles, was the cause of all her problems. Everything in her wanted to lash out, to put this heifer through a world of never-ending pain . . . which was exactly what Rachelle wanted her to do. Then the bitch would have something else to complain to the pack about, wouldn’t she?

  “Well, hello there,” greeted Rachelle, wearing a superior, ugly smile. As usual, her hatred gave Ally the sensation of having sharp shards of frost lodged in her chest. “I was just helping myself to what was left in your fridge. Hope you don’t mind.”

  Now if she could just choke on the liquid, that would be great. Or maybe if she just went back to whatever asylum she crawled out of. “Ugly bruise you have there. Who gave you all the injuries?”

  Rachelle delicately swept her finger over her swollen jaw. “One of the youths who did this lovely handiwork to your cabin. So, how did your meeting with Zeke go?” Rachelle’s smile told Ally that she knew exactly how it had gone.

  “Do you mean before or after we got down and dirty?”

  Her smile faltered as her cheeks turned almost as red as the streaks in her bleach-blonde hair. “Must be hard losing your position in the pack. Embarrassing too. And to know that your own pack mates no longer trust you . . . Wow. Now that’s gotta hurt.”

  It did, it burned like a motherfucker. But Ally wouldn’t let her see that. Nor would she let her see just how defeated she felt right now. Why couldn’t the woman just leave her the fuck alone? She had Zeke, she had the pack eating out of her hands, and she’d taken Ally’s status away from her. There was nothing left for her to take. Except for her pulse, of course. But Ally strongly doubted that Rachelle wanted her dead. Not just yet.

  “Would you like to see what I have?” Rachelle rose to her feet and approached her.

  “Is it infectious?” Ally asked dryly. When the skank reached into the neck of her T-shirt and dug out a gold chain with a wolf pendant, Ally’s stomach knotted.

  “I still can’t believe he gave it to me.”

  Neither could Ally. She had bought that for Zeke last Christmas, had done a lot of searching before she’d found the perfect present. And now she had it. “Why would you want to wear something that I gave him? If there’s logic in that, it’s escaping me.”

  “Giving it to me proves that you no longer matter to him. That this chain no longer means anything to him. It’s proof of his devotion to me.”

  Nope, Ally still didn’t see the logic there. It was clear that this woman’s antenna didn’t pick up all the channels. “I have to wonder if things could have been different if you hadn’t been deprived of oxygen at birth. Just a thought.”

  Rachelle planted her hands on her hips. “You’re just jealous. Admit it.”

  Oh, this was getting old. “Careful. You’re confusing sheer loathing with jealousy.”

  “You are, you’re jealous!”

  “Of what exactly? Your manipulative streak? Your distance from reality? The voices in your head that tell you you’re pretty?” She shook her head, done with this bitch. “I don’t have the patience to deal with you right now.” Ally opened her front door and swept out a hand.

  “You can’t throw me out! I’m Beta female of this pack! I’m of superior rank!”

  “You’re also neurotic and have cancer of the soul. And I have better things to do with my time than listen to your shit.”

  “Fine.” She literally marched to the door, pouting. “I have to go meet Zeke anyway.”

  Watching as the blonde stomped outside, Ally called out, “Before you go, I was just wondering . . . do you like how I taste?”

  Rachelle’s eyes bugged, and her cheeks turned purple. “You bitch!”

  Laughing more than she’d laughed in a long time, Ally slammed the door shut.

  CHAPTER TWO

  I’m calling in a favor.”

  That was all the message had said.

  The sooner Derren Hudson found out what his friend meant by that, the better. Because, despite being on the visitor’s side of the protective glass, Derren wanted nothing more than to get the fuck out of there. Being in this place, surrounded by guards; bare walls; the bleak atmosphere; and the scents of fear, oppression, and dejection . . . it all brought back memories that he didn’t want to think about. Memories that had his wolf pacing with angst.

  A door far behind the glass opened, and a number of shifters in orange jumpsuits began to file out, each heading to their visitors. Derren straightened in his seat when a wolf he hadn’t seen in five years came striding toward him wearing a crooked grin.

  It was never good to owe a sociopath a favor, and there was no doubting that Cain Holt had become exactly that. Bearing in mind the things that had happened to him long ago in a juvenile detention at the hands of abusive human guards, it was no real surprise that the guy had shut off emotionally. Derren and Cain had watched each other’s backs in that hellhole, which was why Derren would always consider him a friend . . . even if the guy had lost his moral compass.

  Cain’s hatred and disgust of prejudiced humans had led him to join The Movement—a band of shifters that worked to protect their kind from human anti-shifter extremists who attempted to introduce laws such as sequestering shifters to their own territories, inhibiting them from mating with humans, placing each one on a register, and limiting shifter couples to one child.

  These extremists argued that shifters were too dangerous, violent, and animalistic to be around humans. Some of those laws might have come to pass—thus starting a war—if the extremists hadn’t been exposed for running a hunting preserve that allowed them to hunt, brutalize, and ultimately kill shifters, including their pups. The brutality had shocked the nation and, as such, discredited the extremists’ argument.

  However, that hadn’t stopped the extremists from continuing to press for restrictive laws and committing random acts of violence, and so The Movement had been formed and was growing in power each day. It wasn’t what anyone would call “subtle;” they liked to make public statements to convey that prejudice and violence wouldn’t be tolerated.

  In sum, shifters were doing exactly what all predators did when under attack: they were fighting back. If the extremists had expected shifters to be victims, that was their mistake.

  The human law enforcement agencies thought they’d identified the key players within The Movement. In truth, they didn’t have a damn clue. Shifters like Cain acted as a front, a face for people to point at, which placed Cain and others like him under the constant watch of law enforcement . . . thus enabling the true key players to remain under the radar.

  Although Cain and others acted as faces of The Movement, they never did anything that would enable the humans to pin serious charges on them. As such, the humans had arrested Cain and a few other shifters on minor charges, determined to have them serve some time in confinement. Derren honestly didn’t know how Cain was coping with being cooped up all over again. He had to give the guy credit where it was due.

  As Cain took the seat behind the glass and put the telephone receiver to his ear, his guard backed away—fear shimmering in his eyes. Yeah, Cain’s reputation had a way of inspiring fear in people. Lifting his own receiver, Derren greeted him simply: “Cain.”

  The wolf nodded. “Been a long time.” Although they had remained in contact over the last five years, they hadn’t spoken in person. “We can talk freely. My guard kindly removed the bug from this phone.”

  Most likely out of blind terror, thought Derren.

  Cain glanced around. “Brings back a lot of memories for you, doesn’t it?”

  Too many.

  “Heard you were made Beta of the Mercury Pack. I’d say congratulations, but I’m doubting you’re happy about it.”

  Cain was right. Derren disliked responsibilities. Why? Because responsibilities meant being committed to something, and being committed to something meant losing freedom and choices. If there was one thing that Derren wasn’t good with—thanks to spending much of his youth in juvie—it was being trapped or
hemmed in. And that was exactly how his position made him feel.

  So many responsibilities came with being Beta, including advising his Alpha on important issues and acting as a negotiator when dealing with other packs. Derren’s average day involved patrolling the border of pack territory, helping to train and lead the enforcers, spending time in his office doing paperwork, and dealing with any grievances from the pack. In a nutshell, his job was to sustain the emotional and physical protection of each and every one of his twelve pack mates.

  It was a lot to take on for someone who was particularly averse to responsibilities. He would have turned the job down if his Alpha, Nick Axton, hadn’t been one of the people who watched his back in juvie. Derren owed him. He supposed he should be thankful the pack was relatively small. Many of his pack mates had commented on how well he “fit” the role, given his personality and temperament.

  “It takes a particular kind of wolf to be Beta,” his Alpha female, Shaya, had said. “Someone who’s observant, good at giving advice, and commands obedience; someone who’ll confront issues head-on, who’s extremely protective by nature, and who is perfectly in tune with the Alpha male. That’s you, sweetie.”

  Yeah, but being “suited” to the role and being “content” in the role were two very different things. And how was a person supposed to deserve the trust of others when he couldn’t offer the same in return?

  Derren had been stripped of the ability to trust a long time ago. But he didn’t lament it, didn’t view it as a weakness. Being wary of others, reminding himself that even the people closest to him could be capable of betrayal, would ensure he was never taken off guard again. Nick was the only person in whom he’d invested any real degree of trust, but the guy had earned it.

  Still, confiding in people wasn’t Derren’s style, so he stuck to the subject at hand. “I got your message.” He’d received it via a mutual contact. Cain might be in jail, but he still had enough influence to pass on messages to the outside world.

  “You always pay your debts, which is why I knew getting you here wouldn’t be a waste of my time.” Cain leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “You remember I told you my pack was slain when I was eight?” At Derren’s nod, he continued. “There were only two survivors—me and one pup; she was just six. I took her with me to stay with my uncles in the Brookwell Pack. You probably saw her when she visited me in juvie. Brown hair, huge eyes.”

 

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