Rule of Claw: Wolves of Worsham #1

by Valerie Evans

  Shit, maybe she should have let Steven handle this tribunal.

  Chapter Four

  As he trekked down the center path of the amphitheater, Landon couldn’t help but think some things never changed. A quick sweep on the benches found the usual divisions with Miller pack members on the left, Langfords in the center by their self-proclaimed princes, and the diverse group of purebreds and turneds that made up the Durands on the right. However, he kept his focus forward while the twins split off along with Alexis and Tyler who gave each other plenty of space on the bench without saying a single word.

  Whatever plans he’d had to ask Tyler about Alexis’ turning had been thwarted by a late wake up followed by another round of arguing with his mother who’d been mid-conversation about some type of flyer with Charlie then shooed away his questions with apology rehearsing over breakfast. He’d barely had time to shower and change before they’d headed here with his siblings, though Riley had apparently texted she’d arrive late due to a previously scheduled photoshoot with a new client. That report came from Eliana who seemed to live on her phone.

  “It’s so nice of you to finally join us.”

  Landon bit the inside of his cheek to avoid snapping at the Langford alpha who didn’t appear to have improved in temperament since his exit. However, Charlie obviously felt no such urge since he pointed out, “Not like you can start without us given we have the reason for the tribunal.”

  One of his mother’s hands squeezed his brother’s shoulder in a not so subtle warning before she offered a smile and stepped onto the stage. “If you’re in a hurry, Scott, we can always do our vote now,” she said, already headed to her spot on the left. Without a word, Charlie settled into the remaining empty chair beside her. “I’m sure you all remember my second son, Landon.”

  His designation as second son almost made his eyes roll, but Landon told himself to remain the picture of respect before the council that had been in its early days before his exit. Scott’s familiar yet unwelcome face didn’t make it easy nor did the sour look Constance wore; however, the final pair held his attention. Micah’s familiar dark eyes and frown of disappointment felt like a walk down memory lane, though it was the olive-skinned woman on his left that caught Landon’s eyes, staring at the familiar hazel that used to hide behind wire-rimmed glasses.

  A fist closed around his throat as he aligned the teenager who’d started as his best friend growing up then turned into his first love with the woman before him, The roundness in her cheeks had smoothed out while the extra weight she’d always been teased about had shifted into curves that had his mind on anything but the tribunal, remembering how soft and willingly she’d sank into his arms. Her hair hung much shorter, barely to her shoulders, yet the same curliness and sun streaks marked her dark hair as in their youth.

  He could see subtle hints of make-up that were new, but it only enhanced the natural beauty that had caught his eyes from that first meeting years ago. Even the jeans and white sweatshirt she wore with canvas sneakers were a call back to those carefree fall days except the eyes that had always been laughing and welcoming were now closed off as she moved her gaze away from his.

  Only a throat clearing made him aware how long his eyes had been on Imogene so he shifted his gaze back to the others, focusing on Scott’s scowl. “I’m sorry. Can you repeat that?”

  An annoyed huff left him before he demanded, “Why exactly are you back? I was under the impression that you’d cut all ties with your family yet here you are so inquiring minds wish to know.”

  Glancing over to his mother and Charlie, he thought about their rehearsals for this moment then focused back on Scott to begin, “Through circumstances beyond my control, I’ve found myself packless and realized that leaving the way I did was a mistake.” His mother’s words felt wrong in his mouth since he’d played a large part in the circumstances that had made him packless; however, she knew the council better than him so he decided to trust her words. “I thought about coming back through the years, but I didn’t know if I’d be welcome so I stayed away until recent events made me realize that I missed my true pack.”

  At least the last part wasn’t a lie despite the numerous, judging eyes he could feel on him. He couldn’t blame the pack for distrusting him, the guard for feeling betrayed, or Imogene’s avoidance of his gaze, but he was willing to do whatever was necessary to prove himself to them.

  Almost without thought, his eyes drifted toward Imogene’s spot and picked up how she seemed determined to look everywhere but at him. Her fingers were curled a little too tightly on the arm of her chair. He wanted to reach out to her, to apologize for how he’d left things, how he’d left her, except Scott’s voice drew his attention back to the entire tribunal council and destroyed the plan before it came to fruition.

  “You realize your leaving upended a carefully crafted, long-standing hierarchy of succession?” Scott was asking, arms folded across his chest. “A system that will not be changed again to suit your whims.”

  This time his mother interrupted, “Landon’s return affects nothing of our hierarchy. Charlie and Tyler will remain in their respective positions followed by Elliot with Landon behind him.”

  While he wasn’t keen on being outranked by a teenager, Landon couldn’t help but feel relieved about not having to resume his role as the spare. He didn’t know how well Tyler was doing with the change in rank, though he made a mental note to ask later when he interrogated him about the Alexis situation. For now, he needed to focus on convincing the tribunal.

  “I have already spoken with my mother and I accept my place,” he said, bowing his head as they’d talked about. Contrition was important. “I will do everything within my power to protect not only Charlie as the future alpha but Tyler and Elliot as well. You have my word that I will not be a problem.”

  Scott’s expression didn’t lose any of its skepticism, though Micah questioned, “What assurances does the council have that you won’t abandon your position again?”

  Deciding to hell with his mother’s script, Landon adjusted his position to focus on Micah and Imogene since he doubted the Langfords would be agreeing to let him return. “You have none except my words,” he said, aware of his mother’s glare from the opposite side of the stage. “I lost more than just a pack when I chose to leave here, and it’s going to take me a long time to fix that, but I’m determined. I’m prepared to swear a blood oath if that’s what the council requires and resume my guard duties.”

  A mix of gasps and whispering met his declaration, likely the blood oath more than the guard, since blood oaths were the strongest of vows among wolves. Any wolf who broke a blood oath would be hunted to the death by the very pack to which they’d sworn the oath. If an alpha refused to honor a blood oath, they would be stripped of their titles and hunted themselves before the mantle passed to the next in line.

  Movement from the corner of his eyes caught Charlie’s standing seconds ahead of their mother grasping his arm and whispering something that made him stiffen then sink back down into the chair.

  Scott’s lips had curved into a smile that couldn’t be called friendly as he questioned, “A blood oath to all three packs?”

  “That’s never been done,” his mother interrupted, still holding onto Charlie’s arm. “Landon’s my son so the duty would fall to me. I accept Landon’s blood oath.”

  “The rules that you and your husband helped establish are clear that family exclusions end after ten years away,” Scott said without looking away from him. “I believe you’ve been gone twelve years, Landon?”

  He gave a mute nod then waited.

  “Then we will accept Landon back on the condition of a blood oath of our own,” Constance decided, glancing toward Micah whose furrowed brow and set jaw conveyed more than words. Imogene’s pale complexion and wide eyes said she wasn’t any more fond of the idea than him despite how careful she’d been to ignore him. “And what do you say, Micah?”

  Micah’s eyes swung to
his and held. Something in the much older man’s gaze seemed to be accessing him, though he wasn’t entirely sure for what, or if he’d passed the assessment.

  The silence lingered as Imogene leaned over to whisper something that made him nod before Micah stated, “We will accept Landon back on his oath to the Millers.”

  Landon’s eyes widened, but he forced himself to do nothing more than give a nod of acceptance before focusing back on the entire tribunal. His mother’s glare and judgmental gaze remained heavy throughout the blood oath being sworn and the process of mixing his blood with his mother’s and Scott’s. The combined contents were poured into a small vial that passed onto the older gray-haired woman named Miranda who served as their historian, to be stored among the others should the need to hunt him arise. Only when it was complete did the wolves who’d sat silently watching seem to release an almost collectively held breath.

  Tension lingered on the stage as he stood off to the side with Miranda, though he thought he caught the word flyer again from Scott before it was waved off with Micah’s remark of, “Why don’t we table that until something else happens? The packs are getting restless, and I’m sure Landon wants to spend time with his family.”

  Curiosity warred with the heavy weight settling on his shoulders as his mother agreed followed by Imogene and Charlie, but he made his way to where his family waited instead of asking questions that he knew would be ignored. He’d barely stepped down from the stage when a body slammed into him and a pair of arms wrapped around his waist. The corner of his lips lifted into a smile as he enfolded Riley’s lanky frame into a hug, noting that her head fit neatly on his shoulder rather than just below the center of his chest as the last time he’d seen her. His hand brushed over the auburn mass, a nearly perfect match for his own, that fell just below her elbows as his other arm gave her waist a squeeze.

  “I always knew you were my favorite sibling,” he teased, glancing at his brothers who rolled their eyes. Alexis looked more amused than offended by his words as she stood with an arm propped on each twin’s shoulder. “You okay, Riles?”

  Riley gave him one last squeeze then pulled back, offering him a smile that made him feel worse for its genuineness.. “I just missed you.”

  “I missed you, too.” One of his fingers reached out to tap the band of freckles that extended from the bridge of her nose out to the upper part of her cheeks, though the glint of silver between her nostrils had him questioning, “How did you convince Mom to let you get that?”

  “Little Riley got it one wild weekend at college and just came home to the wrath of Mama Mel. I’ve never been prouder.” Alexis’ answer drew several eyes their ways and made Charlie snort, though she followed up with, “What? We all know she’s scary yet we love her all the more for it.”

  His mother’s sudden appearance at his side prompted silence before she questioned, “Why don’t we move this little gathering back to the house? You lot can start dinner while Landon and I talk about what he just agreed to.” Her tone left no room for argument, and he could almost feel the anger vibrating through her at his side.

  “Mom . . .”

  “Not here,” she ordered. “You will ride back with Charlie and meet me in the study immediately, Landon Joseph. Now go.”

  Chapter Five

  Following the disaster that had been the tribunal, Imogene made excuses to avoid the rest of the pack while reassuring Micah and Steven she was fine and not fine in the way that required wine and movie nights. Their worried looks remained, but neither had objected to her request for space. Even Letty’s offer of dinner and drinks had been rejected in favor of a walk through the woods near the amphitheater as she replayed the events from the stage.

  A blood oath.

  It was bad enough Landon had agreed to one with his family but to add the Langfords was just asking for trouble. A blood oath was unbreakable. Whether he realized it or not, he’d just trapped himself in Worsham which should have made her happy except what if he was miserable being here? Not that she actually cared how he felt about being back or planned to spend time with him, but she’d had a front row seat to watching the Millers lose Landon, just months after the death of their father, and didn’t want to watch that again.

  Before she realized it, Imogene found herself leaving the woods for the dimly lit dock not quite a mile down from the Millers’ place. Her hands were tucked into her pockets and her head down to better navigate the uneven ground when a whistle lifted her head followed by a call of, “Hey, Immy.”

  Her shoulders immediately stiffened and her head came up to see Landon seated at the end of the dock, shoulders hunched and feet dangling in the water. “Don’t call me that,” she said, automatically. “Just because I didn’t tell Micah to send you packing doesn’t make us friends.”

  “I know.” The quietness of his reply prompted her to continue down the deck, coming to a stop beside him. A glance was snuck toward him, and she noticed his eyes were still on the water rather than her. “I gave up the right to be your friend a long time ago.”

  Instead of feeling better, the words were like a knife being twisted, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. He likely hadn’t thought about her in years so why did part of her still ache to comfort him? Even her stupid hand started to shift out of her pocket before she shoved it deeper.

  Staring at the still water in front of them, she thought about his words again then asked, “Was it worth it?”

  The silence grew until Landon shifted to lean his back against one of the taller poles anchoring the dock to the water. That hint of black ink visible again beneath the sleeve of his shirt drew her gaze, but she didn’t ask about the rest of the tattoo despite having a guess at the design. His head tipped back to look up at her, and Imogene felt struck again by how much his eyes seemed to have aged. The temptation to reach out and touch him returned, to sooth away the pain of years, but she pushed it aside, shoving her hands deeper into her pockets.

  “I didn’t hate the entire experience,” he finally said, still focused on her. “But realizing my family didn’t even care enough to call when things went bad . . .”

  Imogene rolled her eyes. “You know phones work both ways, right? How many times did you call Melanie or either of your brothers? Or Riley?” She bit back the urge to add or me and instead informed him, “You don’t get to be upset with us when you chose to leave and even creating a blood oath with Scott isn’t going to fix that overnight.”

  His gaze dropped back to the water. “I’m guessing your approval lies somewhere in the same neighborhood as my mom.”

  “That’s like asking if the years have mellowed Scott,” she replied. “Some things change, Landon, but he’s not one of them, and you know what blood oaths mean. Do you really want to put your family through that?”

  “I was serious when I said I’m back to stay, Immy,” he argued then sighed as if he could see her skepticism without looking. “There’s nothing out there for me anymore so no reason to break my oath.”

  This time, Imogene hesitated before questioning, “Your biker buddies are just going to let you resume a normal life? I remember quite a few hoops you jumped through in the early days to join them, but you can just get out and that’s that?”

  Landon shook his head but didn’t answer the question. His silence prompted her to ask, “Do they know you left?”

  “The dead have no reason to worry what the living do,” he admitted after a minute, scooting back on the dock. His feet were withdrawn from the water and allowed to drip onto the deck for a minute before he pushed himself up to his full height, at least three-quarters of a foot taller than her. “I could say I’m sorry a hundred times, Immy, but you’re not ready to hear me. I’m not going anywhere, though so I’ll wait.”

  The implication of his earlier words made her frown, easily recalling the rather large and intimidating crowd he’d been involved with just before disappearing. What was powerful enough to wipe out that many large wolves who hadn’t thought tw
ice about using their strength to guarantee what they wanted became theirs? And how had Landon survived it?

  Before the questions could escape, she gave a shake of her head and pushed the anger back to the forefront. “Sorry is just words,” she told him, then took several steps back to put distance between them. “You can keep saying them until you’re blue in the face, but just words are never going to convince anybody.”

  Giving him no time to answer, feeling like too many wounds had been torn open too fast, Imogene turned away and headed back toward the woods. Her steps gradually gained speed until she began full-on running to put distance between them as if she could outrace the tornado of emotions brewing inside of her. There didn’t seem to be enough space to help her escape Landon’s wary eyes or the long buried emotions that had pushed to the surface at how almost familiar that conversation had been for them.

  Only when she’d set foot on the small porch attached to her cabin did she come to a stop, attempting to catch her heaving breath. While the wolf’s stamina made her quicker, she’d given far more energy than expected to cover so much ground in a short period of time because being near Landon tempted her to forget twelve years worth of abandonment and all the progress she’d made. To fall back into the chaotic, messy emotions that she’d pushed aside to become what her pack needed, to become what made Micah and Steven proud, and to live a life that included dating even if she hadn’t gotten serious with anyone since him.

  How was it that a few minutes with Landon made her feel like that naive teenage girl again, obsessing endlessly over him? Her brain wanted to take a walk down memory lane except she halted the journey, focusing instead of the aftermath of him leaving, of the days she’d spent crying and texting him endlessly then angry until accepting he wasn’t coming back. It had still hurt, but she’d had to let go because it had become clear she didn’t mean nearly as much to him as he had to her.