by Meg Ripley
“Get him with the silver!” Raul heard someone—he wasn’t sure who—call the command, and then searing, sizzling pain wrapped around him, touching his bare skin everywhere. He howled, the silver net around him sapping his strength in instants. Raul felt his knees go weak, felt himself tumbling forward, gloved hands grabbing at him even as he snarled and twisted, trying to get free of the net. He tried to bite—but his teeth met the silver and electric agony shot through his skull.
“Got her!” Raul flailed and fought, and barely caught sight of people swarming Keira—cornering her and throwing a net over her. He couldn’t recognize the people; Raul thought they must be panthers. He tried to squirm free of the net that seemed to tighten around him moment by moment, but no amount of kicking or thrashing broke him free of its bonds; the more he fought the more the silver seemed to affect him, weakening him, hurting more and more. He felt himself lifted off of the ground and then into the darkness he went, howling, struggling as much as his feeble strength allowed. Raul barely saw the shape of a van—he thought it belonged to Reginald—before darkness of a different kind began to swirl in his vision, pulling him under in spite of the pounding of his heart in his chest and the ache in his throat from howling for Keira. The last thing he thought was that he would have to break free in order to have any hope of finding out where the panthers had taken Keira. Have to get to the Elementals…have to tell them…have to get to Keira. Raul groaned as his body hit the hard floor of the van, sending a shockwave of pain through him; then everything went dark.
****
“She’s coming around,” someone said. Keira kept her eyes closed, and tried to keep her breathing slow and even, but as she swam up out of unconsciousness, she knew from the mental impressions around her that she was among the members of her clan; they would feel the shift in her mental signature, they would know immediately that she was no longer completely out. Not like it matters anyway. Let them know that I’m awake. I don’t have to talk to them.
Keira felt a hot lump of fury in the pit of her stomach at the memory of watching the attackers carry Raul off into the darkness, just as her own people surrounded her and looped silver chains around her. Had the wolves and panthers coordinated to catch up to the two of them? Had Harold revealed their secret—for them to both receive what was apparently going to be some form of punishment? Look at that: we brought them together for the purposes of punishing both of us. That’s an accomplishment, she thought wryly, in the most private part of her mind. She remembered Harold mentioning that he would have to put “the matter” of her “taking up with a damned wolf” to the clan; and apparently somehow the word had gotten out that Raul was with her.
“You can stop pretending, Keira,” she heard Harold’s growling voice a few feet away. Keira kept her eyes closed a moment longer. She ached all over; between the battle and the silver, she wasn’t sure if she could even fully stand, much less manage a transformation. She could smell five panthers in the room with her—wherever she was—including Harold. There was no sign of wolves present, but she could smell wolf blood, lingering on the people around her. They were fighting each other, too. So obviously if they were working together, it wasn’t all that willingly. Keira reached out mentally, trying to push past the chatter of clan minds, trying to find the elusive thread of Raul’s mental presence. They had mated; she should be able to feel him, and he her. But it was as if she had stubbed her toe, somewhere deep down in her mind. He’s just unconscious. He’s not dead. Please let him not be dead.
Keira opened her eyes. Harold—scored with scratch marks, gouges from bites on his arms and shoulders—stood over her. Other members of the clan watched from a yard away, glaring and scowling, looking as though the slightest provocation might trigger them to shift into their animal forms. “I thought we had an agreement, Harold,” Keira said, keeping her voice level and unwavering with an effort.
“We had an agreement that you could leave my house, and that you would avoid the clan’s running lands,” Harold said firmly. “I also put it to the clan—the fact that you were taking up with a wolf—and let them decide what to do with you.” Keira glanced quickly at the few members of the clan in the room with her; based on the thick reek of anger and acrid undertone in their pheromones, she thought she knew pretty well what the clan had decided.
“Were you working with the wolves then? Sure seems like you coordinated with them, since they grabbed Raul and you got me.” Keira bared her teeth, narrowing her eyes, unquestionably a challenge to the leader of the clan—but one that wasn’t enough to require him to directly correct her. The other panthers in the room snarled, beginning to lunge forward until Harold let out a low growl.
“When you’re recovered from your punishment, I’ll have you in the challenge for that bit of insolence,” Harold told her, scowling.
“So, tell me my damned punishment and get it over with then,” Keira said. In the back of her mind, she could sense the evanescent tendril of Raul’s mind—he was awakening, too. Something in Keira’s body relaxed at that realization.
“For taking up with an enemy of the clan, you’re going to be flogged,” Harold told her. “And you’re going to bring your godforsaken mate to us.”
“Flog me if it makes you feel better,” Keira said, shrugging; the pain had begun to slowly ebb, and she realized that she was only bound at the wrists and ankles with silver—they’d done away with the rest of the netting. There was some hope to be found in that, Keira thought. “But I’m not going to let you murder my mate just to salve your pride that you weren’t able to protect Lachlan and Gary.” Keira considered bringing up the outside female that Harold had allegedly brought in—but stopped short, uncertain of if he had told anyone in the clan about her.
“You’ve turned your back on our ways,” Harold told her, his voice taking on a low, warning-growl note. “After you’ve been flogged, you’ll have a chance to think about who your allies are. You either renounce your mating with that wolf and consent to a mate of my choice in the clan, or you’ll be put to death.” Keira glanced at the others in the room; Tammy and Garrett looked uncertain, but Nathan and Brad were nodding along with Harold’s edict.
“I’m bored,” Keira said, stretching in spite of the shiver of pain the movement sent through her spine. She had to appear as confident, as unconcerned as possible; she couldn’t let any of the people in the room with her know her fear. “Either go ahead and flog me now or leave me alone—I have a right to that as a member of this clan, under punishment or not.” Harold growled again, but stepped back, and Keira held his gaze for a long moment before looking away.
A few moments later, his point proven, Harold left the room, taking the others with him, and Keira waited until even her preternaturally acute hearing couldn’t detect their footfalls before slumping against the wall they’d propped her against.
Keira knew what to expect from her clan; they viewed her as a betrayer. She would receive the bare minimum until her punishment was carried out, and they’d probably isolate her on top of that, even after she was flogged. She closed her eyes, tugging at the silver binding her wrists and ankles. Whoever had been responsible for it had bound her tightly enough that escape would be difficult, and Keira smirked to herself; whoever it was would have had to have handled the silver without gloves to get it that tight. Hope it burned the hell out of them, the asshole. She bit her bottom lip as she tested the chains again and again, trying to find the least give in them. She had to get away; she had to get to Raul, and they both had to go to the Elementals. There was no way around it; they needed outside intervention, and if they went to the elementals they’d at least have protection. Please let him be in better shape than me, she thought. Let him be able to get free and get to the Elementals. There was no longer even a question of finding anyone in their respective groups to ally with—they were both on the outs. Keira paused in her struggles for the moment, taking slow, deep breaths. She would need to conserve her strength. She might get an opening
when they unbound her to take her out onto the clan’s running lands for the flogging. There isn’t a panther in the entire clan who can take me if I do it right, she thought. Bide your time, Keira. Wait for your opportunity. Don’t be like one of those stupid wolves caught in a hunter’s trap and chew off your own leg to get free. Be smart. Keira tried to fall into a light doze, but the fear persisted: what if they waited until the silver completely sapped her strength? She couldn’t count on the clan—in its current fury—to stick with the legal ten lashes, or to not put her to death. Focus on getting out of here at the first opportunity. That’s the best thing you can do. Keira settled in to wait.
****
“First priority for a captured soldier is to return to his unit…” Raul heard the words in his mind as he swam up out of unconsciousness; the rules, the priorities, the training the military had given him flowed through his mind in lectures that made him feel the midday sun on his scalp in memory. I’ve been captured by my own people; there’s no unit to return to. That was something the military hadn’t really trained him in; if his own unit had captured him, then he was a deserter—or a traitor. Just as Raul was sure the Pack viewed him. Some of the Pack at least, he amended mentally.
Through a combination of the mental bond he shared with the Pack and his senses of hearing and smell, Raul knew that he was in the same shed he had found Keira, Gary, and Lachlan in before, and that—for the moment, at least—he was alone. He could feel silver burning at his wrists and ankles, the stinging tingle of it around his shoulders and knees as well. They were taking no chances with the Pack’s disgraced enforcer; that much was clear.
Please let him be in better shape than me…let him be able to get to the Elementals… The tendril of Keira’s thought in his mind told Raul that at least his mate was alive; alive, and not actively being tormented, though he could sense she was every bit as restrained as he was, somewhere far away. The connection between them wavered and twisted; it was only the early days of their mating bond—they hadn’t solidified it yet, though they’d blooded each other. It would take weeks of contact between them to fully cement the bond they’d started. Assuming we get the chance, Raul thought bleakly.
As the tentative, faltering connection waxed and waned, Raul turned his thoughts to his first priority: getting free. It was only too easy to imagine what the panthers had in store for Keira, and Raul knew that Reginald—now, seemingly, in control of the Pack once more—would be only too interested in getting rid of him for good. He had to go to the Elementals; it was the only way to ensure his and Keira’s safety. The bindings they’d put on him were too tight to get out of readily; and there would be no guarantee of someone on his side to help him.
Cam, Raul thought. He could feel the mingled, mixed essences of his Pack-mates in his mind, and focused on his second-in-command. Cam hadn’t been at the ambush; Cam had also not been one of those members of the Pack involved in attacking the flophouse. While Raul knew that he couldn’t count on Cam to buck the chain of command—certainly his second wouldn’t go directly against Reginald—he thought he might be able to at least get Cam’s sympathy enough to convince the man to loosen the bindings slightly. That was all he needed; Cam didn’t need to be more involved than that, and at that it would be an act of mercy, a sympathy for a fellow Pack member and superior. Though technically I’m probably not his superior anymore, at least not in pecking order.
Raul heard footsteps approaching the shed and opened his eyes, wanting to appear alert—but weak. He sagged against the pillar he’d been chained to, letting his arms go slack. If he looked weakened by the silver, whoever was coming to see him might underestimate his strength. Sad day when a wolf has to turn against his own Pack. What a damned clusterfuck this all is.
Raul scented the air as the steps came closer; it was Reginald, coming to inspect his prisoner. Hope dwindled in Raul’s mind; Reginald would have no reason to take mercy on him. He might even be coming to take me out right now. He would have to wait for an opening; he would have to somehow persuade Reginald to give him a fair shot at defending himself or at least the option of going before the Pack to be judged.
“You mated that hellcat,” Reginald said as soon as he stepped into the shed.
“Seemed like the thing to do,” Raul said. “She was willing, and even you have to admit she’s pretty damned hot for a cat.” Reginald closed the shed door behind him, and Raul heard—underneath the surface noise—the sound of one of the members of the Pack moving into place to guard it.
“She was marked for death,” Reginald said. The Alpha sat down a few yards away from him, shifting with a grunt; Raul could plainly see that the battles of the last few days had taken their toll on the man, in spite of the preternaturally fast healing that all shifters possessed. “You’re the one who busted her out; you can’t lie to me on that.” Raul considered and shrugged.
“I wasn’t finished with her—the challenge was interrupted.”
“You were a fucking dumbshit to go into that challenge in the first place,” Reginald said sharply. “And now you’ve mated her. Christ, Raul.” Reginald shook his head. “You’ve got women in the Pack throwing themselves at you, and even a bunch of mating-age females from other packs in the country, and you choose a fucking panther?”
“Like I said,” Raul replied with a shrug, “she was willing, she’s hot, and it seemed like the thing to do.”
“Her Alpha killed Mark last night,” Reginald said lowly. Mark was one of his nephews; Raul felt something in his stomach lurch at the thought.
“You killed his son,” Raul pointed out, keeping his voice carefully level, his body language non-confrontational. “He wanted revenge. Pretty much his right.”
“He started this mess,” Reginald told him, scowling. “I can’t believe you’d defend a damned panther over your own Alpha.”
“According to him, we started it,” Raul said, shrugging again. “I was on the way to figuring out if his accusation had any merits to it when you two decided to grab Keira and me.”
“What does that asshole cat say?”
“He says that someone in the Pack killed a female he intended as a mate for his son,” Raul told him. “I have no idea if that’s true or not.”
“You spoke with him?” Raul nodded.
“That’s within my purview as enforcer,” he pointed out. “Keira brought me to him, to talk about the situation. This can’t go on, Reginald; even if you put me to death, there’s just going to be more and more trouble between the Pack and the Clan until there aren’t enough of either of us to keep going.”
“This wouldn’t be a problem if everyone was pulling in the same direction,” Reginald said, scowling at him. “If you hadn’t gone maverick and busted the girl out of keeping, we’d have leverage over the fucking panthers. Instead there’s battle—and we’re going to be discovered if this keeps up.”
“There would have been battle anyway,” Raul countered. “You murdered two members of the clan—one of them the Alpha’s son. Did you think they’d come to you peacefully after that?”
“It was a show of our strength—a show you screwed up by getting one of them out.”
“It was wrong,” Raul insisted. “It went against our by-laws, even if there were wolves that supported it. If you’d done things the right way, old man, the Pack and the Clan wouldn’t be in all-out war.”
“They need to be taught a lesson,” Reginald said, his voice taking on a growling note, “and so do you.”
“Oh, so I’m not going to be put to death then?” Reginald shook his head.
“You’re going to wish you were dead though,” he told him. “You’re a traitor to the Pack, Raul. You’re not the enforcer anymore; you’re going to stay here for a full moon cycle, bound in silver, and you’re going to get rations.” Reginald smiled bleakly. “Short ones.” Raul nodded once, twice. It was both better and worse than he had expected; he would be miserable—he would be weak—but he wasn’t going to be put to death outright
. “And three days after you complete your punishment, I am calling you out.” Reginald stood, shook his head, and turned away. Raul watched his Alpha leave, closing his eyes. Three days after being nearly starved and bound in silver would not be enough time for him to recover; Reginald meant to kill him—but he meant to do it in the most strictly legal way possible. He knows if he takes me out any other way, he’ll have half the Pack challenging him, Raul thought. He shook his head to himself; he would have to find a way to get free before time ran out. He would have to get to a safe place, and contact the Elementals. It would be the only way to stop the war, and the only way to keep himself and Keira safe. First rule of combat… he sank into a half-doze, his body buzzing with the pain of the silver that bound him, trying to think of ways to break free. Raul hoped against hope that Keira’s punishment was lighter than his; they would both need to be able to function, if they were going to have any hope of staying together, of living to see the war between their groups end.
****
Keira’s body was on fire; she twisted and writhed, trying to find a position—any position—that offered even a little comfort from the blazing tingle of pain that lit up her nervous system. The flogging had been even more brutal than she’d expected. Harold had beaten her with willow—bad enough, with its water association, especially after three days of being bound in silver—and then someone in the clan had packed the wounds with violet oil, just to increase the pain. The oils had seeped into her skin, burning their way into her system, almost poisoning her.
No one came to see her, locked away in Harold’s garage; she received meals from an impassive member of the Clan twice a day, but no one looked at her. She was being shunned, left to recover slowly, disconnected from the pulse of the clan’s thoughts in a misery of loneliness. It’ll be worse when they realize you’re pregnant, Keira thought absently, curling in on herself and hugging her knees. She wasn’t sure how long it had been since her flogging; she only knew that it had been more than a week since the clan had grabbed her from the flophouse. The pregnancy was early—her pheromones hadn’t yet shifted, Keira thought, or someone would have commented on it—but she could sense it, somehow; there was a full feeling deep down between her hips, and her period hadn’t arrived on its usual day.