Cade (Society Book 2)

by Mason Sabre

  He held his hand out for Phoenix. Aaron glared at him, his eyes shooting daggers. “Don’t make me fight you for him. I don’t want to, but I will if you make me.” Cade didn’t even look at his father, hoping the threat of him losing his place on the Council would be enough for him to back off.

  Aaron glanced at Trevor, waiting for his cue. When he gave him a curt nod after a moment, Aaron glowered and then thrust Phoenix towards Cade, clearly frustrated at being forced to give in. The boy stumbled and Cade caught him before he landed sprawled out on the ground. Phoenix clutched at Cade’s shirt with his good hand, his trembling body gluing itself to his side, his head barely reaching Cade’s broad shoulder. Cade brought him into a tight, protective hold, his hand coming up to cup the back of his head. He gave the boy a few seconds of contact to calm him, then, without ever taking his eyes off his brother and father, he instructed, “Get into the house and wait for me.”

  Phoenix nodded and threw a fearful look back at Trevor and Aaron.

  “Go,” Cade said sternly. He needed him away and safe, then he could finish what he needed to here.

  When Cade was sure that Phoenix was out of earshot and in the house, he turned back to his father. “I will pay for his position in the Society. I will train him, and I will teach him our ways. I will take all responsibility for him.”

  “How very noble of you,” Trevor scoffed. “But we have a month to bring someone to the Humans. Whether you like it or not, we need to give the boy to them.”

  “Are you really that pathetic? Is Malcolm?” Cade said incredulously. Trevor’s face turned red with rage. “What will the Humans do if we don’t? What can they do to us?”

  “They will create war,” he roared.

  “No, they won’t. Not if they don’t know he is here. For all they know, they got him in the fires.”

  Trevor paused, the cogs in his head turning. Cade knew no good could come of this. “And if I allow this thing to stay with you …” he began.

  Cade ignored the allow part, because there was no allow—Phoenix was staying. “Yes?”

  “What will you give me give me in return?”

  Cade stared at his father. “Payment?”

  Aaron had positioned himself next to Trevor, a united front. “If we find his maker, the boy can challenge him. If he beats him, he can join Society.”

  Cade’s heart sunk. Letting Phoenix challenge somebody who was Other would be signing the boy’s death warrant. And if he by any fluke did manage to kill his maker, that would mean having forced an innocent boy into purposely taking another life. “He is just a child,” he rasped.

  Trevor shrugged. “It is the way we do things.” It was true. These were their rules. Not that anyone had actually done this specific act before—not to Cade’s knowledge. But yes. If a half-breed took out their maker, they could be granted acceptance. Of course, a half-breed actually beating a purebred was basically an impossibility. Trevor would be sending Phoenix to his death.

  “Is that all?” he ground out, knowing that his hands were tied. This was society law, and Cade had no option but to follow it.

  Trevor smiled and cocked his head to one side. Cade knew that meant trouble. “I have been in talks with the Castle woman. You know her—friend of your mother’s. Part of the Society. She was widowed a month or so ago. But since her husband passed away, well, she is having a little financial trouble.”

  “And what? You want me to pay for her, too?”

  “Yes,” Trevor said flatly. “The woman is a widow with three daughters.”

  “Her daughters are all adults.”

  “Yes, exactly.”

  Cade narrowed his eyes. He was missing something.

  “If you marry one of the sisters, it doesn’t matter which,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand, “their family will get free passage to the Society. If you want the boy to remain here now, you take one of the daughter’s hands.”

  Cade’s mind raced, desperate to find a way out of this trap. “Aaron has no pups,” he said, trying to keep his voice level. “I can't mate.”

  That was how it worked. The eldest was the heir, but it was surpassed if a younger sibling produced offspring first, because they would carry the line on. However, Aaron was to be alpha one day, and until he mated officially and produced his own offspring, Cade and their younger brother, Danny, had to wait. Cade was absolutely fine with that, though. It benefited him.

  “He doesn’t,” agreed Trevor. “But you can contractually pledge yourself to one of them. Take your pick. I see they're all very pretty. Once your brother is mated and his first pup is born, then you will honour your promise here today and mate.”

  “A pending union?”

  “Exactly,” said Trevor smugly. “Maybe you want to think it over for a couple of days. Or maybe you want a couple of days to set your little pet running. Give him a head start. Because this is the deal, Cade. Son or no son. That thing will not be allowed to stay without my authority. You get a nice piece of ass and a science project. You know the power the Castle family has?” Trevor smirked and nodded to Aaron. “We will be back in a couple of days. Oh, and maybe we can help find that maker for you. Save you some time, right?”

  Cade knew he had pushed things as far as they could go. Trevor had set his terms and conditions, and if Cade did not agree, he would make sure Phoenix was eradicated from the Society.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Phoenix jumped at the sound of the back door slamming. It echoed through the house, the walls vibrating from the force of it. Phoenix carefully rested his grazed chin on his backpack as he clutched it to his chest where he sat at the top of the stairs. He had done this. It was all his fault. Fresh tears welled up in his eyes. His broken hand lay across the top of his knees, the pain like nothing he had ever imagined. He tried his hardest not to move it, wishing for nothing more in that moment than the ability to vanish. He hugged his bag tighter, desperately needing something to hold onto. It contained hardly anything—ragged clothes, his notebook and pencils. Last month, he had had everything, and now he had nothing—and there was no one to blame but himself.

  He stayed quiet on the top of the stairs for a moment, letting the depth of his pain and sorrow flood through him. Every step he took forward, he seemed to fall another ten feet back. With a tremulous sigh, he wiped the back of his good hand across his face and got up. His hand came away wet with tears and the blood from Aaron’s blow. He had to leave. He couldn’t stay now, not after all he was causing. He descended the stairs slowly and reluctantly. Every step was a step closer to being out on his own again. When he reached the last step, he hesitated. He didn’t want to leave—braving the streets or the forest on his own again was a daunting prospect. Especially now that he knew he was being hunted by the Humans … and apparently by the Others, too. He really was well and truly on his own.

  With his head held down, he tried to force himself to go into the kitchen, say goodbye to Cade and walk out the door. But his legs didn’t seem to want to move.

  “Phoenix?” Cade’s voice brought his head up fast, the sudden movement shooting new pain through his face. He stood in the doorway to the kitchen, a worried expression on his face as his gaze jumped from Phoenix’s limp hand to his tear-streaked face smeared with blood. Phoenix’s heart pounded in his chest—he hadn’t even heard him come into the hallway. It reminded him of what Others truly were. “He’s gone,” Cade told him softly. “He’s not coming back. You’re safe.”

  Phoenix blinked rapidly, fighting to stop a new onslaught of tears. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you into trouble,” he said quietly. He was so stupid, believing he could make Cade want to keep him by showing him that he could shift on his own. Why would anyone want somebody as stupid and pathetic as he was? He had managed to make such a mess of things again.

  Phoenix knew that he had to go. He didn’t want to hear Cade tell him he didn’t want him. This way, he wouldn’t have to say the words. He slung the bag over his shoulde
r using his good hand, but even that caused pain and he winced. His fingers were swollen, and his knuckles had all turned black. Ignoring the pain, Phoenix bowed his head and started towards the kitchen for the back door with forced determination.

  Cade didn’t move to let him pass, though. He stood there frowning down at him. “Where are you going?”

  “I have to go,” Phoenix whispered

  “No, you don’t.” Cade shook his head. “You don’t need to go anywhere.”

  Phoenix glanced up at him, too afraid to hope. “It’s better for everyone if I just leave.”

  Cade placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I took you in because I wanted to help you. I still want to help you. You don’t have to go.”

  “But it gets you in trouble,” Phoenix protested. He watched Cade’s face, studied his eyes for even a flicker of repulsion and hate, but instead, his expression softened.

  “My father just likes to throw his weight around. It isn’t you. I'm so sorry he hurt you.” He looked down at Phoenix’s hand. “Can I take a look?”

  Phoenix hesitated, not able to believe Cade really didn’t want him to go. His bottom lip quivered and then he nodded slowly, cupping his bad hand. “It’s broken.”

  “Yes. I think so. We can fix it. Will you come to the table with me and we can get you cleaned up?”

  Phoenix didn’t want to leave, but he didn’t want to stay and cause more suffering. He didn’t want more people to die because of him. His count was already at two, and that was more than enough. “Your dad wants me gone. He doesn’t like me.”

  “My dad is old-fashioned. He thinks that everything is black and white when it isn’t. Come and sit down. Let me get you cleaned up and we’ll talk. Okay?”

  Phoenix chewed on his lip and threw a glance at the door.

  “Please,” Cade said.

  “Okay,” he said hoarsely. His throat still hurt from Aaron’s chokehold before. Cade gave him an encouraging smile and turned towards the kitchen. Phoenix followed him in and sat at the table, placing his bag down on one of the empty seats. Cade filled a bowl with hot water and then pulled a bottle out of one of the cabinets. He poured whatever was in it into the bowl, the stench hitting Phoenix’s nose and making him gag.

  “Sorry,” Cade said as he carried the bowl over. “It’s Stephens’s mother’s recipe. I don’t know what is in it, but it works like a treat on helping with cuts and grazes.”

  “You're going to put that on me?”

  Cade nodded and the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement at Phoenix’s disgusted tone. He placed the bowl down onto the table, and then he pulled one of the cushions from the seats free. “Can you lift your arm?” Phoenix helped him slide it under his bad hand, pain shooting up his wrist and arm and making his eyes water. He clenched his jaw, not wanting Cade to think he was such a baby.

  “I’m sorry,” Cade said.

  “It’s okay.” He paused. “I didn’t mean to make all this bad stuff happen.”

  “I know,” said Cade warmly. “It isn’t your fault.”

  “I was trying to shift. I thought that maybe I could do it by myself.”

  Cade smiled at Phoenix. “You’ll get it. Don’t worry.”

  Phoenix couldn’t even imagine it. He had played games with his friends as a child, pretending to be Other and ravaging each other to death. But to be one for real? It seemed so inconceivable. “Your dad doesn’t like me because I was Human?”

  “It’s not you. It’s just the way it is.” Cade soaked a cloth in the water, wrung it out, and then draped it over Phoenix’s broken hand. “Just keep that there. It’ll help. I promise. We didn’t use to be different to Humans, you know? We were the same once upon a time.”

  Phoenix’s eyes went wide. “Really?”

  Cade continued to tend to his hand as he spoke. “Yeah. We started there. It was a long time ago—centuries maybe—when Humans lived in the wild with the animals. But Humans are weak and fragile. They die from the slightest thing. It’s hard to survive out in the wild and they weren’t doing very well. One day, one of the Humans saw a pack of wolves. He watched how they hunted their prey, stalked them, caught them—it was effortless. So, this man captured a wolf. He used the wolf to hunt for him, but he learnt how to hunt that way, too. Eventually, I don’t know how—maybe it is magic—the man and his wolf became one.”

  “Like you now?” Phoenix asked incredulously.

  Cade nodded. “Kind of, I guess. He could shift between man and wolf, and he could hunt and eat. Of course, eventually he met a woman and they had a family, and their children were born with their abilities. They were able to do the same.”

  “And then they grew up and had children of their own?”

  “Exactly,” Cade said as he took another piece of cloth. “Tilt your head back.” He wiped the blood and dirt away from Phoenix’s face. “Eventually, these children had children, and their children had children, until it got to the point that they would only marry someone who was the same as them. This meant that their wolf inside was pure. Both parents.”

  “Like you? Your mum and dad are wolf.”

  Cade nodded again and rinsed the cloth once more before cleaning his grazed chin. “They are. But it was discovered that this wolf thing—lycanthrope, they call it—could be passed along with a bite.”

  “Like me?”

  “Yes. But these turned wolves that get bitten, they usually die or go into these frenzies where they kill everything.”

  Phoenix looked down with shame as he thought about the boy at the town. “Like me,” he whispered again sadly.

  “No, not like you. Someone should have helped you at the start. It isn’t your fault.”

  Phoenix let his head hang down for a moment, heavy with the thought of what he had done and what he was. Cade reached over and hooked a finger under his chin, forcing his eyes to meet his.

  “You’re not the same, okay? You’re through that part, and you’re here now.”

  “Do you think I will be able to do it like you?”

  Cade sighed and shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe you can be better, I don’t know. You're the first bitten wolf I have ever met.”

  “What if I can never shift?”

  “What if you can?”

  Phoenix nodded at that. He rubbed at his leg absently with his good hand.

  “That itching you feel is your wolf. He wants out. We get it when we haven’t shifted in a while. Cade paused for a moment. “Do you want to try now? You and I?”

  “Right now?”

  Phoenix followed Cade’s gaze to the back door. “Well, I’m not doing anything else, and shifting will help your hand to heal ... be like new.”

  Phoenix wasn’t sure, afraid of failing. “You won’t hate me if I can't?”

  “If you can't today, we try again tomorrow. We’ll keep at it.”

  Phoenix nodded slowly. “Okay,” he whispered.

  Phoenix stood next to Cade out in the back garden and on the small patch of mowed grass. He stared out into the overgrown mass that extended outward. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be his wolf and then to run through all of that. It seemed impossible.

  “We have to take our clothes off first,” Cade said. “Are you ready?”

  “They don’t just fall away.”

  Cade shook his head, smiling. “Nope. They tear to shreds. Think Hulk.”

  Cade was already half undressed—all he had on was his jeans. He was barefooted and bare-chested, but it suited him. His muscles were defined, bulging in all the right places, his body an image of masculine perfection. He had the kind of body that Phoenix envied and promised he would work his way to being one day. He wanted to be as big and as strong as Cade and Stephen.

  Phoenix dared to pull his shirt up over his head and tried not to hide himself. His ribcage jutted out beneath pale skin, and he looked like some kind of famine victim. Next to Cade, his chest was flat and the skin grey and lifeless.

  When Cade slipped his jeans off and
dumped them on the ground next to him, Phoenix hastily looked away, feeling more uncomfortable by the second. Although he wasn’t much shorter than Cade—reached his shoulder—he felt small in comparison to his broad frame. Even Stephen had been huge. And that cool tattoo that went down his back had just seemed to add power and height to him. Next to either of them, Phoenix felt puny, and he felt every bit of it in that moment as he slid his shorts down, standing there only in his underwear.

  “Those are going to tear to pieces,” Cade said. Phoenix glanced down and pulled at the waistband. When he didn’t take them off, Cade added, “You’ll get used to it. Either that, or you're going to go through an awful lot of clothing.” He grinned at him. “Are you ready?”

  Phoenix swallowed hard and stared out into the garden. “Yes.”

  “If you can't shift, don’t worry.”

  Phoenix nodded. “When did you first shift?”

  “It’s different for us. I am born like this. I was shifting before I was walking.” The idea seemed so incredible to Phoenix. That babies could actually do this. He frowned. If a baby could do this, then so could he.

  “We should get down on the ground. Do you remember how Stephen did it?” Cade nodded towards his hand. “Can you manage with that?”

  Phoenix nodded. His hand was a little better. Or at least it seemed to be. Whatever Cade had put on his hand had offered some relief and taken the darkness from the bruises. Yellow tinged the edges already. Phoenix knelt down on the grass, sitting back onto his haunches.

  “Close your eyes,” Cade said, kneeling down next to him. “Close your eyes and imagine your wolf. I’m right here. All the time.”

  Phoenix nodded again.

  “Tell me when you can see him.”

  Phoenix did as Cade had said. Resting his broken hand on his bare legs, he tried to bring his wolf to mind. Though the sun was warm against his chest and face, he shivered. He wanted so badly to get this right—to do this for Cade. Not knowing exactly how to look for his wolf in his mind, he tried to picture an empty room. Clinical—white and empty. He tried to picture the wolf there, focusing hard until a wolf suddenly appeared. Phoenix wasn’t sure this was his wolf or if he had just thought one up. Maybe he was just doing this all wrong. Was this how it was supposed to be? “I can see him.”