by Mason Sabre
“You have dad,” Gemma said.
Stephen scoffed. “Do you really think so? He has a fighter and an heir. I do my part. I do what he says and what he wants. But inside … it’s not who I am.” He lifted his sleeve to show them his tattoo. It was dark and ran to a point that ended just at his hand, wrapping itself all around his arm, thick black lines disappearing under his sleeve. “Look at this. Look at it.”
Under the tattoo was what appeared to be a matrix of scars. They puckered his skin at places and where it could be seen on the flesh, silvery pink lines ran between. “Your tattoo?” Gemma had seen it a hundred times before.
“He ordered me to have skin grafts. Do you know how they fucking hurt? The skin grew back to this, but my scars were upsetting mum and so was my crazy talk. So I got it covered. I got everything covered. My arm and inside my head.” He jabbed a finger hard on his own temple as he spoke. “Do you know I hear voices in my head—like they're real? Do you both even realise that?”
Neither Gemma nor Cade spoke at his revelation.
“I hear them all the time. Worse when I am mad, and then I can't keep my walls up inside against them. I can't tell anyone or they’ll fucking lock me up or put me down like a lame animal. I’ll be the one fucked.”
“You won’t,” Gemma sobbed.
“I will, and you know it. Because to the Society, I am not normal.”
“Dad wouldn’t. He knows?”
Stephen gave an angry laugh. “Could you imagine that? Knowing he has a defective heir? He’d put me out himself.”
“You still have us,” Cade said.
“Do you know when I am around you two, the voices are quiet. It’s the only time I get peace.”
“What do you mean?” Gemma whispered.
“I don’t know. When I am with you both, it doesn’t matter what’s going on in my life. The voices stop.”
“Stephen …” Gemma reached for her brother through the bars.
“Don’t, Gemma,” he growled. “Don’t go there. Don’t pity me.” Stephen straightened, his eyes hardening once more, his face becoming expressionless and every damn mental wall going up around him. “Phoenix will be fine with your father,” he said coldly. “He is wolf. I am tiger.” He glanced at Gemma. “Tigers and wolves do not belong together.”
With that, he turned his back on them and left.
Chapter Thirty
No amount of glaring at the stairs was going to make Stephen come back down and change what he had said. No amount of swearing and yelling was going to fix anything, but Cade did both of them. He took long, deep breaths and yelled for Stephen to get himself back down there and to not do this to Phoenix. Gemma’s heart broke as she helplessly looked on from the confines of her own cage.
“Cade, please,” she begged him, tears running down her face. Her heart couldn’t take the feral howls as he lost it and called for his friend—her brother. Knowing that she had caused this tore her up inside. If she had just stayed away, just not gone to his house after that meeting, nothing would have happened. “Cade, please stop it. Please … I can't bear it.”
Cade yelled until there was nothing left, until his voice was hoarse.
“Cade. Look at me, please.”
He turned glazed eyes onto her, the silver playing havoc with his mind and senses.
“He isn’t there,” he rasped. Ugly, red burns marred the palms of his hands and his fingers, and it was evident that it was difficult to open his fingers fully. Gemma brought a hand to her mouth and stifled a cry at the sight of them.
“Who?”
“Phoenix.” Cade closed his eyes tight and fell to his knees. “I can't find him.”
“The bond?”
He nodded. “It’s like it is gone.” He took another shaky breath. “Maybe he is dead.”
“No,” Gemma said fiercely. She wouldn’t believe that. Her brother might be mad, but he wouldn’t … he wouldn’t let a boy die. “You’d have felt it if he had died, Cade. You know you would.”
When he looked back up at her, his eyes were the deep blue of his wolf. Shit, he was shifting. He was god damn shifting. Panic flooding her, she braced herself on her hands and knees and approached the bars as much as she could. His canines had started to come down, and she had to force herself not to completely lose it. If he shifted now, he would die—the collar would choke him.
“Cade, listen to me.”
He raised his head slowly, the pain on his face enough to steal her voice. A lump rose in her throat and she fought her tears. She had to be strong for him—she had to keep him alive. But it was his wolf looking out at her, the deep blue of those eyes, the sharpness. She needed to bring him back down, before he was too far gone and she lost him.
“Cade, you have to listen to me.” She used the tone and words he would use with Phoenix. “You can't shift.”
“I can't fight it,” he said faintly, falling back onto his cushion. Gemma stood up, fighting the wave of nausea that threatened—a protest at the sudden movement.
“You can fight it. You can. Come on. Breathe, in and out, like you tell Phoenix to do. Push the wolf down. You have to tell him he can't come. You’ll both die if he does. Keep him back, Cade.”
The collar around Cade’s throat, like her own, would spike with silver and crush their throats if they even managed to even partially shift, and then, of course, it would be too late to reverse it and if they were lucky, their necks would snap in the right way and kill them quickly. Stephen had somehow got his off when he had escaped the cage, and now she wished to god she’d pressed him for how he had got out. Sod the pain in his face each time she had asked—he had been here and he had got out. He, of his own accord, should have offered the information in case they were ever in the same predicament—which they now were.
The moon was rising, its call enthralling and skin deep. It rolled like hot lava through her veins, luring her to shift. She pushed it down—it was a call home that she couldn’t answer, no matter how fiercely her tiger fought for it. “Cade.” A sob tore from her throat as she watched him roll onto his back, his body bowing and tensing as he fought the pull. His head kicked back and the tendons in his neck stood out in stark relief from the effort.
His body started to shake, his hands twisting awkwardly, his wolf desperate for release. Oh god, please. He couldn’t shift. She couldn’t sit there and do nothing as she watched him die right in front of her. His eyes snapped to hers, feral, wild, his wolf clearly there. Frantic, Gemma turned onto her back and kicked at the gate of her cage with bare feet. As she slammed them against the silver, agony speared through her soles to every cell in her body. Like tiny fiery teeth, the silver bit at her flesh—but it didn’t stop her. She did it again and again, smashing her feet down harder each time to break the gate.
Cade let out a roar. “Stephen.” His voice was a growl now, deep and partly wolf.
“He can't hear you,” Gemma said, but Cade wasn’t listening. His voice loud with desperation, he surged up and wrapped his hands around the bars of his own cage with a howl that tore at her.
She sprang to her feet, wincing as her burnt feet touched the floor. “Cade,” she cried. “Let go of the bars.” She could hear the sound of his skin hissing against the silver, but still he held on, all rationality seeming to have dissipated. Gemma did the only thing she could think of—she reached between the bars and wrapped her hand around his forearm, pulling hard. Her body pressed against the bars, her clothes shielding her momentarily until the heat began to build up. Pain shot through her arm as it touched the side, and she gritted her teeth and suppressed her scream as she continued to try and yank Cade’s arm away. His grip was too strong, though, but the contact of her hand on his arm seemed to ground him a little.
He turned to look at her and slowly let go of the bars, his gaze then falling to his seared palms as if he had only just noticed them. She stared at him, weeping helplessly now as she clutched her own arm to herself. His skin had melted, the smell deep and acri
d.
“I can’t fight,” he croaked eventually.
“You can—you have to. You're strong. Fight for me.”
He focused his gaze on Gemma and his breathing slowly started to calm, his wolf finally backing off. Gemma gave a small laugh of relief.
“Phoenix is going to die, isn’t he?” Cade said softly after a few minutes.
Gemma shook her head with certainty. “He’s strong. You’ve shown him how to take care of himself and how to shift. He’ll be fine, you’ll see.”
“He’s with my father.”
Gemma nodded. “He is. Stephen wouldn’t have done that if he thought your dad would kill him. You know that, right? He’s pissed at you and me, that’s all. But he’s still Stephen.”
“He hates me now.”
She knew with every fibre of her being that that wasn’t true. Cade had to know it deep down, as well. Because hate wouldn’t produce the reactions Stephen was giving. If he hated them, he’d have walked away and not bothered to speak at all, but that was not the case. Stephen was just angry. “Phoenix is strong. I promise he’ll be okay. We just need to be okay, too—he needs us in his life.”
Cade took in a shaky breath and nodded. Sweat beaded and rolled from his brow, his hair wet and sticking to his head. Gingerly, he sat down, resting his upturned hands on his lap. Closing his eyes he breathed deeply. “I feel the change under my skin and I can't even scratch it now.”
“I know,” she whispered, slowly dropping to her floor as well. The moon’s call was like a warmth over her skin, but not a comforting warmth. It was calling, pulling, urging her tiger to come out—it was like going home, and every lunar cycle, she welcomed the sensation. To deny it was one of the hardest things an Other could be asked to do. Her head fell back as the call came in thicker, deeper this time. “Oh god,” she breathed as fur prickled under her skin. She forced her eyes to remain open so that she wouldn’t be able to see her tiger.
“Open your eyes,” she said to Cade, wanting him to do the same. “Look at me, Cade.” If she could focus on him and get him to focus on her, then maybe she could fight inside herself. But her voice trembled as she spoke.
Cade opened his eyes slowly to look at her.
“We can do this together, okay?”
Warmth trickled from her nose and Gemma raised her hand to dab at it. It came away wet and red—her nose was bleeding, the pressure from containing her tiger under a full moon.
They sat facing each other, their gazes locked. Cade’s eyes flickered between the blue of the man and the deeper blue of his wolf. His canines hadn't retracted, and though he appeared calm now, Gemma knew full well they were both nowhere near out of danger yet.
Her own eyes were fighting with the shift, but still she kept them open. “This is where Phoenix is better,” she said, trying to reassure him. “He doesn’t feel the call. He has his Human side to help him. He doesn’t have to actually shift.”
Cade nodded slowly. “He should, though. He needs to prove he is part of the pack now.”
“Yes.” Gemma’s eyes drifted closed for a fraction of a second, but it was enough to see her tiger. She sat there, demanding, wanting, needing to come out. She forced her eyes open again and pressed her hand down on her burn. Pain shot up her arm, and she tried not to cry out with it. Her throat constricted as her body fought to shift. She reached up to claw at where the collar held her confined, gouging her flesh.
“Put your hands down.” Fear danced across Cade’s features. “Come on, Gemma. Look at me.”
She wanted to, but god it was so damn hard. Her eyes just wanted to shut. Her tiger wanted to turn her inside out and come into the world and answer nature’s call. It was wrong to deny it. The itch irritated her skin, and she stretched her arms out to the side and shouted in frustration. She couldn’t fight it anymore. Oh god. Her eyes snapped shut, and she knew she was falling. She could hear Cade’s voice off in the distance, but it was impossible to answer him. She tried—god, she really tried—but her own voice was so far away. She rolled to her side and forced her eyes open, her vision blurred. Cade was there, kneeling and speaking words she couldn’t distinguish. She clenched her teeth and fought her shift. The moon had to be up—it had to be close.
She reached out to Cade blindly, her arm flailing. Her hand brushed the bars and she hissed with pain, snatching her hand back.
Cade’s nose was bleeding now, too, his neck taut as he threw his head back and clutched at his own collar.
“Cade,” she cried out. “Cade.” She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get any air. Seeing Cade’s shift begin made her own harder to fight—but damn it, she had to. She had to or they’d both die. Her breathing grew ragged as her airway began to be cut off. She tried to call Cade’s name again, but nothing came out.
She reached through the bars again, her desperation not letting her register the pain this time. Cade reached for her, and she wrapped her hand around his wrist. They held onto each other, both panting as the moon rose above them outside and called them home.
Chapter Thirty-One
Phoenix pressed himself into the upholstery of the backseat. Maybe he could make himself disappear and they would forget that they had the half-breed with them. He wasn’t so stupid that he hadn’t noticed the looks of disgust on their faces when Trevor had announced that he would be coming with them. Even the youngest, Danny MacDonald, Cade’s youngest brother, had physically pulled himself away as they sat together in the back of the car—like he might catch something if he sat any closer. Another inch and he would be perched on his mother’s lap.
Phoenix ignored them like Stephen had told him to do and stared out into the darkness. But the view out there wasn’t much better, either. All the trees were gone, replaced by fields of charred black woodlands. The sight tore at his heart. He had been the cause of this. It was because he had killed that boy and the Humans were looking for him. He had caused so many bad things to happen ... even Cade was locked up in the cage now because of him. Phoenix didn’t know what the cage was exactly, but it couldn’t be anything good by the way everyone seemed to fear it. Would Cade be okay? Would he make it? Phoenix bit down on his lip to stop it from trembling. He would not let himself cry like a baby in front of them.
Phoenix turned away from the view outside the window to stare ahead. Everywhere he looked, there was just another reminder of what he had done. His eyes caught Aaron’s in the rear-view mirror and the man sneered at him as he drove. Phoenix wondered how two brothers could be so very different.
They took a corner too fast and Danny went flying to the middle seat, putting his arm out instinctively to catch himself and whacking Phoenix hard in the chest. Phoenix sucked in a breath as the wind was knocked from him. Danny snapped his hand away and glared at Phoenix. “I don’t want to sit next to it,” he complained to his mother.
“Don’t be rude,” his mother reprimanded him. She offered Phoenix a smile but nothing else as she pulled he son closer to her. Phoenix knew it wasn’t him she was mad at or even upset with. Cade was the one on her mind. She had stared at the shed-like building as they were driving away until it was out of sight. Trevor had scolded her, told her that what was happening was their son’s own doing. Phoenix had seen her, more than once, wipe away a tear and then attempt to compose herself again.
Phoenix wished that Stephen had argued with Trevor when he had said he was taking him. He wished he had demanded that he come. “I’ll take the half-breed with me,” Trevor had announced, and Phoenix’s heart had sunk. There was something in the way he had said it, the look in his eyes and the smile that he had given. “I am wolf. I will teach him to shift properly.” He had ranted to Aaron about the insinuation of his incompetence if Stephen came along, but Phoenix suspected that was nothing to do with it.
“Pretend Cade is with you,” Stephen had said when he took him to the side before they left. “It isn’t any different.” Stephen must have seen the fear in Phoenix’s face because he added, “Don’t worry. He c
an't do anything to you. His hands are tied and he’ll be screwed if he goes against the Council’s orders.”
But Phoenix did worry. There were other ways people could do what they wanted even when the rules said they couldn’t.
“Stay at the back,” Stephen had warned. “No matter what. Stay behind them all, where you can see them. It is all to do with power. If you can remember that, you’ll be okay. You're new, and that means you have no power.” Phoenix had nodded, but it hadn’t eased the twisting in his gut. He had hoped that all the packs would run together, but when Malcolm had announced that they would be going somewhere else, Phoenix’s heart had sunk. He was going to be well and truly by himself.
Eventually, as they drove farther, the blackness of the burnt destruction began to give way to thicker greenery—places that the Humans hadn't destroyed. It was thick with trees and hedges and other plants that Phoenix couldn’t even begin to name. His mother would have loved this place; she probably would have spent days here. Phoenix pushed away the bitter thought. It was foolish to entertain these ‘would haves’, because they could never be now.
The moon was starting to rise—he could see the yellow glow ahead. Trevor, Danny and Katherine all rubbed at their arms occasionally, their breathing growing laboured. Phoenix felt nothing, however. Not a thing. Cade had spoken to him about the pull of the shift at full moons, but Phoenix felt absolutely nothing.
The road wound on itself and up it went, trees lining the sides. Phoenix pressed his face closer to the glass to get a better view. He could see the land slope down steeply, and for what seemed like miles and miles. He could hear water, too—just a faint trickle on the edge of his hearing, but it was there.
Aaron pulled the car to the left and into a car park. The moment the car pulled to a stop, Danny and Katherine opened their door and sprung out. Phoenix followed warily. The scent of the water and the trees all mingled together to perfume the air with nature, the fragrance one of musky earth—it evoked absolute tranquillity, like being home. He had never smelt air so clean and crisp before. As he closed his eyes to just take in the moment, he picked up the sound of small woodland animals scampering away, no doubt sensing that a bunch of predators had just arrived to hunt them.