"This time you won't be able to wiggle out of this. No chance. I always knew there was something off about you, I just couldn't find the reason for this feeling. At first I thought you might be one of them, a submissive, trying to weaken my pack with your whiny, spineless, goody-two-shoes influence. I need my people ready to fight, ready to go to war, not mellow and peaceful like lambs."
He crouched down next to Darwin, grabbing his hair to pull his head back. The other hand smacked his face with enough force to make his ears ring. "There are so many submissives, I lost count, and then I started to think something was wrong with me, since you made my senses tingle despite you being dominant. My skin always crawled with unease when you were at a meeting, you know that? But as it turns out, you're just taking another route to destroy me, lurking around behind my back, waiting for the right moment to take over!"
Darwin tried to blink away the disorientation and pain. He desperately wanted to keep Carl talking, not only because he had just learned more about his Alpha's mind than ever before, but also because he feared what would happen after Carl went silent. But before he could say anything another punch rained down on his face, wiping the words from his lips.
And then another followed, and another, and another.
Jared
Harry woke up at dusk. He twitched softly, not yet conscious but on the brink of wakefulness. He had been out for hours and Jared had gotten more nervous with every passing minute. He'd even checked Harry's pulse and breathing regularly, just to make sure the werewolf hadn't died on him while he sat there like an oaf, waiting. Harry wouldn't be the first submissive to die of a broken heart, though that normally only happened if a soul mate passed away.
Jared put his book down and crept towards the bed, his eyes fixated on the stirring body. His heart beat faster when he saw the twitching in Harry's fingers and he his muscles tightened cautiously, ready to catch Harry before he reached the door, should the submissive wake up and decide to flee.
Harry's eyes snapped open. Jared stayed crouched down next to the bed and watched intently how Harry's eyelashes swept up and down as he blinked at the unfamiliar ceiling. The silence was nerve-wracking, but breaking it would scare Harry out of his mind. Unfortunately, Jared had never been especially good with patience.
"Are you okay?"
Harry leapt to his feet with a hiss, pressing his back against the wall above the bed. "Jesus Christ! What are you doing?" he yelled when he saw Jared squatting next to the bed and staring at him. His breath increased to short, nervous pants and his eyes bled to yellow.
"Watching you. So, you are okay?" Jared asked again. Harry snarled at him, but at least his eyes turned back to normal. It surprised Jared a little. For a submissive, Harry seemed to have enormous amounts of control over his actions, a rare talent even for dominant werewolves.
"Where did you grow up, in a cave? Why are you staring at me like that!" Harry exclaimed, sliding down the wall as the initial adrenaline wore off. His hair was tousled, his clothes disheveled and bluish shadows beneath his eyes showed his exhaustion, but at least he didn't seem to be planning a quick escape.
Satisfied with this reaction, Jared stood up and walked to his desk. "South of Florida, actually. But mom always was kind of a tomboy. She played touch-football with us. She often won, too." Relaxing into his seat, he kept his eyes trained on Harry's face. "Not enough female influence in my youth, I guess. But you fainted and that was a first even for me. I didn't know what to do, so I monitored your vital signs to make sure you wouldn't die. That about sums it up."
When reminded of his weakened state, Harry's face fell. Jared instantly regretted his own thoughtless words. If Harry broke down again, he'd have to go through all the trouble and the waiting once more, and Jared really didn't fancy that idea.
"Come on now, don't flake out on me! Everything will be alright, we'll talk to Darwin together as soon as he has calmed down a bit, okay?"
Jared surprised even himself with those heartfelt words. He'd always been popular and carefree— careless?— with his friends and relationships, never having to worry about anyone's feelings because there had always been someone new if he broke a heart or two. Tobias— his Alpha brother— had always overshadowed everything Jared did and steadfastly kept him from finding friends within the werewolf community for fear of having to fight his youngest brother for reign over the pack. And now fate had thrown Jared right into the middle of the wide ocean of emotions and sensitivities, with no land in sight and nothing to cling to but dumb luck.
"I can't go home yet." Harry's voice was solemn and forlorn. Jared cringed, but he didn't let his uneasiness show. Harry wanted to stay a while, which Jared had planned anyway--but hearing it made it so much more real and way more awkward.
"I know. How about you take a shower? I'll order pizza and then we'll try to sort things out."
Jared forced a smile. Being mindful of other's needs felt like too much hard work, but there was no getting out of this. And more importantly, he wanted to impress Darwin and what better way was there than taking care of his best friend?
Harry, unaware of Jared's reasoning, nodded and got up. "No anchovies on mine please," he muttered and disappeared into the small bathroom.
Sounds of running water came from the shower when Jared dialed his favorite pizza parlor to place an order. Just as he put down his own phone, Harry's started ringing on the crumpled bed. Jared walked over and picked it up, intending to bring it to the bathroom, but as soon as he saw the caller's ID his heart stopped for a second. Darwin.
Jared didn't dare to answer it. If Darwin heard his voice from Harry's phone he'd freak again, Jared reckoned, but watching the phone blink, ring and vibrate was torture. When it went silent again, Jared was relieved and pissed off at the same time.
A few seconds later the ringing started again, and this time Jared grudgingly took the call. He listened intently, then his face went white. As the phone hit the ground, Jared was already out the door.
Darwin
The room was dark and silent when Darwin came to. He felt numb and disconnected, trying to stay as still as possible, dreading the pain that would take hold of him as soon as his body realized how badly hurt he was. He didn't know why he wasn't dead, but since Carl had left the room, he probably thought he'd finished him off. Maybe the old Alpha had gone to get someone to clean up the mess, but that gave Darwin only minutes to act.
To his dismay, acting meant moving first.
The pain started the second he tried to open his eyes. His left eye had survived the battering fists, but his right eye pulsed and wouldn't open at all. Something inside was broken, like shards scratching over his eyeball whenever he tried to move it. Maybe his eye socket had been crushed, but that wouldn't kill him. The blinding, searing pain that rushed through his spine when he tried to roll over was a whole different matter.
He froze, gasped for air and bit down a scream. Every heartbeat prolonged the waves of nauseating agony rushing through his body, but as soon as he threw caution into the wind and rolled onto his stomach, it stopped. Something in his spine had gotten injured. His left leg was numb and wouldn't move, but his right leg still had some movement left. Something wet and sticky had glued his shirt to his back. Darwin didn't need to check to know it was his own blood. His fingers wouldn't move at all and the pain accompanying every attempt was disheartening. Carl had done a pretty good number on him. And if he didn't find a way out of here soon, the Alpha would finish what he'd started.
Darwin squirmed, testing the restraints on his arms. The rope shifted ever so slightly. A few tugs loosened his bindings enough to shake them off, even though the pain made Darwin black out for a few seconds. He still didn't know if he would be able to stand or even crawl, but at least he wouldn't die like a lamb in a slaughterhouse.
He cautiously lifted his head and took in the room. Three small windows sat on the wall behind him. They were on ground level on the outside, but inside this cellar, they were way too hi
gh to reach them when he was this injured. The door was only a few feet away, but if he went out that way, the risk of being found was extremely high. He couldn't see another way out, though, and with the first option being simply impossible, Darwin had no other choice.
His shoulders screamed when he moved his arms in front of his body, but it was a healthy ache and nothing compared to the stabbing pain in his fingers, ribs, face, legs,... The list went on and on and he tried to recount every hurt as he pulled himself to the door with slow, crawling movements.
Luck didn't let him down. When he pressed against the door, it swung open, letting in blinding lights from the other cellar room. The surreal scene of normalcy there made Darwin's chest hurt.
There was a glass patio door right next to the stairs leading up. It took Darwin a few seconds to remember it was there and that it led outside to a porch, but when he did, he crawled faster. If Carl was still inside the house, he would hear the scratching and panting and gasping downstairs, so Darwin hurried as much as he could. When his crushed fingers touched the glass, he winced and bit down a scream.
The sudden sound of steps on the floor above made him freeze in a panic. Carl moved around in the conference room, but Darwin soon realized that his Alpha was walking in circles. He had a phone conversation with somebody.
"Where are you? I've been waiting for twenty minutes!" A short silence, then more steps.
"I don't care if your car broke down, shift and run if you must, but get your ass here!" Again there was silence, but this time Carl listened for a while. Then the old man sighed and stopped with an audible last stomp.
"Fine, I'll start digging. But I don't want to touch that traitor ever again, so you better hurry. The longer you wait, the bigger the mess gets. He bled like a pig."
As Carl walked out the front door on the other side of the house, Darwin swallowed a big gunk of bile. Being reduced to 'a mess' was painful, like dirty footprints an unruly pet had left on the floor, but at least Carl really assumed him dead and planned to go outside and dig. A grave, which would take a long time to finish.
Darwin turned his head as far as he could and peeked up to the door handle above him. There was no way around this, he would have to try and get up to reach it, preferably before whoever was coming to help Carl arrived.
The burning pain in his spine was back as soon as he pulled himself up on his knees, but this time it didn't fade. Gasping for air through the blinding waves of fire, Darwin groped for the door handle with his elbow and pushed it sideways into the open-position. Then he sagged back down and lay motionless until the black edges around his vision faded. It was a bloody bad moment to black out, that much he knew for sure, lost time besides.
The moment of truth came and Darwin fumbled the door open, gnashing his teeth against the spikes of agony in his hands. If Carl decided to bury him on the steep, sloped side of the area, Darwin would get caught as soon as Carl heard the patio door.
He froze and listened to the pitch black night, trying to hear something--anything--over the furious hammering of his own heartbeat.
An owl cried out, but nothing else moved.
Shivering with adrenaline, Darwin pulled his broken body outside and to the edge of the balcony. It sat right on the slope and Darwin crawled to the upper edge and onto the grass. Now that he was out in the open, he realized that he couldn't go near the road leading to their community center. If they found out he was gone, they would start looking for him and whoever came to help Carl would stumble over Darwin sooner rather than later. That left him with the woods and the risk of staying hidden, but dying there without anyone ever finding him.
Die free and alone or die violently through the hands of another?
Darwin chose the woods.
It took another eternity to reach the edge of the forest. When the shadows of the leaved canopy finally touched his back, he was completely exhausted. Changing into his wolf form wasn't an option at this point anymore. It would take too much energy out of his already weakened body and probably cause his broken bones to heal crooked. Crawling as an injured human sorely narrowed his choices, though. His right leg had given up somewhere along the way and something in his head was damaged enough to ruin his balance. His body was shutting down bit by bit, which meant that soon he would be unconscious and quite possibly dead shortly after.
A small, hard rectangle pressed into his hip and added to the miasma of pain. First he thought he'd landed on another rock, but when he felt around it he realized with a shock that it had to be his phone. He still had his phone!
He could call somebody. Someone would come and save him. Darwin didn't care how helpless and miserable that sounded; he squirmed and writhed until the phone popped out of his pocket and shoved it closer to his head with his elbows.
The world around him went gray when he tried to tap the display with broken fingers, so he made do with speed dial. He only had Harry and his father on it, anyway, and both would be able to find him.
Blinking furiously against the popping black and white stars in his vision, he stared down at the phone as it dialed Harry. When he didn't pick up at first, Darwin started crying, but did try again. The world wavered dangerously.
A soft click from the mobile phone told Darwin Harry picked up. He placed his head on the small gadget and tried to sort his muddled thoughts-- Harry needed to know where he was or this would be a useless exercise.
"I'm dying. In the woods next to the pack house. Please help."
Darwin didn't hear the answer. He blacked out, right there on the edge of the forest.
When he came to again, a familiar face hovered above him.
"Boy, did you fuck up this time."
Trevor had his hands in the pockets of his black wind jacket, staring down at Darwin's battered body. He was nothing more than a lighter blotch in the darkness of the moonless night, but his voice gave his identity away. He was another dominant from Darwin's pack, thirty-ish with brunette hair and green-brown eyes and a swimmer's body that was slim and sinewy but still not much to look at. He ranked low in the pack hierarchy, since no amount of dominance could fix an unsteady, insecure, and egotistical character, but Carl calling Trevor for assistance made sense. Trevor had never shown a capacity for morality and wouldn't mind dirtying his hands for money and status.
Darwin breathed around the stabbing pain in his back and fingers, croaking, "I didn't do anything, I swear, just,…" He tried to squirm backwards, away from Trevor's looming presence, but the agony was too much. His breathing sounded wet, underlined with a soft bubbling sound that made Darwin think of broken ribs and punctured lungs. It didn't matter at the moment. "Just go, leave, tell him you killed me. I'll disappear, I swear."
Trevor had the grace to look uneasy. "No can do, sorry. If I don't show up with your body, he'll suspect me too. You know how crazy he can get." 'He' being Carl, scaring the shit out of one of the most jaded werewolves Darwin had ever met.
The no-nonsense way Trevor talked to him irked Darwin to no end. Here he lay, bleeding internally, broken to the point of near death, and still that guy behaved as if nothing was wrong with that picture.
"I didn't betray anyone! Christ, can't you see? If he doesn't shy away from killing me, who knows who'll be next!"
The shouting and straining made something pop inside Darwin's chest and another wave of pain rolled through his back, robbing him of his ability to speak. Where the fuck was Harry?
Trevor looked back to the house, merely turning his head. "Well," he started, squinting through the darkness, "since he killed his wife first, I'd say everyone of us is a target until somebody finally has the balls to kill him. You see, she's the reason behind his madness. She betrayed him first and he trusted her like nobody else. Slept with some other Alpha while she was out of town, for all I know. Lost her head quite literally when Carl found out." Trevor looked back down at Darwin and squirmed a little. A morbidly reassuring sign of uneasiness. At least his killer wasn't happy with his job.
But Darwin's thoughts raced down a very different road. Carl's wife? She'd been dead for about seven years, died in premature labor. Nobody had ever had any suspicions about her death and Carl hadn't started his killing spree right away. That specific part of pack history had only begun when—
Darwin gasped. Submissives had started vanishing after his own adoptive father, George, had his stroke, leaving him unable to fulfill his duties as a right hand. Unable to influence and stabilize Carl. The revelation stunned Darwin.
"Well, enough of this chit-chat. Let's finish this. Sorry, Dar, just doin' my job," Trevor sighed and bowed down with one hand extended towards his throat. Darwin panicked.
"Wait! Please!" His mind was racing, stumbling though pain, endorphins and adrenaline, but there was nothing he could say that would stop someone like Trevor. Nothing, except— Wheezing, Darwin bared his throat in the first deliberate gesture of submission in five years. He couldn't think of anything else and this was the only thing that a dominant would never do in an inevitable situation. They liked to die with a stiff upper lip.
Trevor stopped mid-gesture. Then he pulled back with a hiss. "You little bastard, did you really fool us all?" He took a small, hesitant step back. Killing a submissive that was baring his throat went against every instinct a werewolf had and even though the human part of him could overcome those instincts, it was like walking over the edge of a roof in hopes of suddenly being able to fly.
"Why are you making this harder on me?" Trevor sighed, rolled his shoulders and groped through his pockets. He probably had a gun somewhere, much easier than to strangle Darwin with bare hands.
Moving his head brought back the blinding pain in his back with full force, summoning back the dancing splotches of light and the creeping darkness. This time Darwin didn't try to fight it. He didn't care to experience his own death wide awake. As his eyes rolled back into his head, he heard running steps, then a vicious growl and a scream that got cut off right after it had started, but the noises faded away as he sank into unconsciousness.
Unwilling: a shifter romance Page 6