by Erica Woods
ASH
While Jason kept Hope contained to the kitchen and away from prying eyes, Lucien had gathered our guest at the front of the house. When Ruarc and I joined them, Blake was leaning against the sturdy rail curving our rather narrow front porch, while Zakh glowered at Tim with his arms crossed and his back against the house.
He was not the only one.
Tim was staring sullenly at one of the white-painted columns supporting the porch-cover, his right hand clenching around the wood while the left curled at his side. It looked like he was doing everything in his power to avoid Lucien’s frozen gaze without outright staring down at his feet and conceding power.
“What do you know of Rederick’s supporters, Lucien?” Blake asked after the silence stretched too thin.
Lucien shifted his gaze to Blake, and Tim shuddered with the reprieve.
I listened with half an ear as the others spoke, choosing instead to contemplate our options. The next Assembly was several weeks away. Weeks in which the Black Mountain Pack could wreak their havoc if they were brazen enough to act without the Council’s approval.
Doing so would mean war. Countless lives lost. Packs destroyed and families ruined.
Will another war be the key to stop the rapid spread of the rot that infests so many of our brethren?
Both sides would suffer heavy losses, but the side that struck first would lose more as the merciless hand of the Council punished those without regard for our laws.
Could we afford to strike first? Could we afford not to?
I did not know. Clarity remained hidden in shadows of gray, and I found myself . . .
Preoccupied.
As it often did these days, my mind circled back to the human we harbored; the female with the broken wings who carried secrets and guilt so heavy they threatened to crumble what remained of her defenses.
If forced into a war, each member of our pack would need to fight, and none would be left to protect her when her demons came knocking.
I cannot put her safety above my pack, yet I cannot conceive of leaving her to fend for herself.
A choice that should not have been difficult remained an impossible puzzle.
“—same mistake again.” The sneering voice dragged me back to the present, my attention settling on Tim.
Had he already forgotten his fear?
Blake’s hard eyes dug into the younger male’s back while Zakh stood silent and still, guarding his alpha while keeping the new pup close at hand. With each word the youngster spoke, Blake’s expression tightened.
“What did you just say?” Ruarc spoke with a lethal quiet that had both Blake and Zakh take a step back—removing themselves from the equation and letting us know they would not protect their pack-mate.
“You heard me!” Tim’s eyes were wide, nervous, but he refused to back down. A youth’s folly. “I’ve heard a lot about you. You are rather famous, you know.”
“I wouldn’t go there if I were you,” Blake said.
When Tim ignored his alpha, Zakh shook his head in typical enforcer fashion and stared stonily ahead.
The lack of repercussion was not a go-ahead, as Tim seemed to believe, but rather the pack getting tired of him repeating his mistakes. He would learn or he would not, but either way, Blake and Zakh were done with their coddling.
“Ruarc the raider. Ruarc the king,” Tim taunted, stepping head to head with the male who had already beaten him into submission once that day. His thirst to avenge his humiliation looked a lot like stupidity. “Ruarc, the famous leader who got his face disfigured because he was too—”
“Stop that!” A distinctly feminine cry of outrage cut through Tim’s tirade. As one, we all turned. Chest heaving, an angry flush staining her cheeks, Hope glared at Tim while Jason looked over her shoulder with a sheepish smile and a shrug, as if to say; ‘what did you want me to do?’
“Stay out of this, filthy human!”
Hope’s gasp was lost in the fog that followed. A violent urge to punish Tim’s insult rose, and with it came a feeling, a terrible, icy cold that washed over me, through me, and threatened to take my body as its own.
No, I told it, while its unyielding present battered at each cell, its rage a poison in my blood. No.
Rather than give in, I honed the violence turning to ice in my veins into a controlled force of will, and when my gaze pinned Tim in place, I allowed him a glimpse of what lived inside me, of what prowled beneath the surface of my skin.
Beady eyes widened and bloodless lips parted in a silent scream.
I blinked, and he stumbled back, drops of sweat gathering along his hairline.
“Y-you—”
No one paid Tim’s stuttering any heed. Not when Hope hissed—the sound that of an angry kitten filled with all the confidence of a full grown tiger—and stepped forward.
“You take that back,” she shouted. The female who’d spent most her time haunted by fear now stood with her feet apart, indignant fury snapping her brows together and making her eyes spit fire.
Tim sputtered, glanced at me.
I said nothing. Did nothing. I was captivated by the iridescent soul shining in her eyes. By the angry flush across her cheeks. By the conflicting emotions I often sensed at war within her.
Her hands shook, but she did not let her fear stop her.
Neither would I.
“Take it back!” Hope cried again.
Tim scoffed, having gained confidence from the lack of interference. “Why would I do that? It’s only the truth, you are a filthy hu—”
“Not that!” Hope interrupted, taking a small step toward the fearless youngster who kept insulting her. “About Ruarc! He isn’t disfigured at all! Scars show character! They are a badge of honor showing that the person carrying them has been through—”
Tim threw his head back and laughed.
Teeth clenching, I fought the urge to knock Tim down. This was Hope’s battle, and her defense of Ruarc was beautiful to behold. Not only was she doing what a true packmate would do, but she was saying something we had all been trying to convince Ruarc of for years.
“You gotta be kidding me!” Tim chortled. “Look at him.” He gestured toward Ruarc, not seeming to comprehend the danger he was courting. “I am sure he was ugly even before his face was mutilated, but with that scar? He’s hideous.”
Ruarc showed no outward reaction to the taunt. He kept his stony gaze locked on Hope, waiting for her reaction.
He thinks she will agree with Tim.
A terrible, high pitched shriek of rage ripped from Hope. If I had been in my other form I would have lowered my head and whined at the dreadful sound.
“Y-you monster!” She stood nose to nose with Tim, having moved when we were all busy shrinking away from her battlecry. Jason quickly hurried to stand beside her, keeping one eye on Tim at all times. “He is not deformed!”
Ruarc’s strangled, “Hope . . .” bounced off her. The angry female did not look back, nor did she give any indication she had heard him.
Fearless. In defense of others, she proved fearless.
She jabbed a finger into Tim’s chest, the larger male staring at the offending digit with equal parts disbelief and disgust. “You’re the deformed one! Twisted up and ugly inside. Who attacks someone based on their looks for no reason at all?”
“No reason?” Tim gaped, the sneer he’d sported faltering. “The fucker almost killed me!”
“It seems the lesson he tried to teach you did not take.” Lucien’s cool voice cut like deadly claws ripping at prey’s flesh, making not only Tim blanch, but Hope as well.
Casting Lucien a quick glance, she took a deep breath, her small, tense shoulders lowering a half inch or so, and turned back to Tim.
I watched her trembling hands tighten into fists, and admiration swelled. She shook, and yet she did not back down. Fear would not conquer her now, not when she was rising to the defense of another. She felt it, yes, but it did not rule her.
Many of
our kind made the mistake of thinking fear equaled weakness. But fear was imperative to life, to living. The day I woke up utterly without fear would be the day I had lost everything, for it would mean I either had nothing left to lose or that I stopped caring about the consequences of my actions.
“Ruarc only—only did that to protect me,” Hope stammered. “If you’re upset about what happened y-you should t-take it out on m-me, not him.”
A thunderous silence followed her demand, broken only when Lucien made a choked sound of disbelief.
Tim glared with ugly intent. “Oh, believe me, I will!”
The color leeched out of Hope’s skin, her lower lip trembled.
Four low growls threatened death, Tim’s only warning should he try hurt our Hope.
Our Hope?
He glanced at Ruarc, hateful eyes gliding over the other male’s face, lingering on Ruarc’s tense jaw, glowing eyes, and the stony expression he kept firmly in place. When Tim looked back at Hope, a stubborn tilt angled his narrow jaw. “Did you know Ruarc was married?” he asked, looking pleased when the brave little female recoiled like she had been hit.
He was trying to hurt her . . .
Slowly, afraid I might lose control should I move too fast, I let my gaze move from Hope to Blake. The color left his face, and he shook his head once. He did not care what happened to the worthless male at this point.
Good.
To Tim, Ruarc may have looked uncaring but that could not have been further from the truth. His past was a vicious scar every bit as visible as the ones gouged into his skin.
“You’re married?” Hope turned to Ruarc, the anguish in her expression a testament to the budding feelings I had suspected she harbored. Only for him, or—
Air hissed past my lips. My mind closed.
“I was.” The words were barely audible through Ruarc’s clenched jaw. “Not anymore.”
Tim levelled a nasty smirk at Hope. “And here he goes again, being led around by his dick. The last bitch that tricked him got his face. I wonder what you will take from him?”
Hope went ashen. Her hands trembled, her shoulders hunched, and she averted her gaze.
Guilt. Guilt and pain.
A seed of doubt sprung.
What was she hiding? A future betrayal? A deadly secret? Or was the reason Tim’s remark got such a strong reaction that she was married?
Something hot and uncomfortable speared me.
Has my objectivity been obliterated by the little human? Am I putting my pack in danger by letting her stay with us?
The burden of responsibility dragged against my neck like a heavy anchor caught at the bottom of the sea. It tugged and pulled, demanding I act before its chain ripped into my throat.
So I looked at her, searched the soul shining in down-turned eyes, and despite the guilt written across her expressive face, I could not believe she would seek to harm us. She was too good, too selfless.
She had risked her life to save Jason. And she had defended Ruarc when doing so no doubt terrified her.
She would not betray us.
Tim opened his mouth, malice twisting his lips.
“Hope will take nothing,” I said, and stepped forward before he could speak. Hope quivered at my side, and a quick glance down showed me a bent neck, a curtain of long, dark hair now hiding her face from view. “She is not the kind of person who takes.”
“So she is paying for the roof over her head? The food in her belly?”
“Careful,” I said, knowing full well Tim was past heeding warnings, past sensing the treacherous waters he was treading. Sharks abounded here, and the pup did not sense it.
The pack he had grown up in had done him a great disservice.
Tim drew his eyes up Hope’s body, lingering on breasts and lips. “That means no, so does she offer other . . . services in lieu of payment?”
The sound of furious growls were but a distant noise. My hand shot out and wrapped around the offensive male’s throat. A choked cry squeezed past his parted lips before my grip tightened.
I loosened the shackles I kept wrapped around my beast. Cold violence clashed with the earthy, protective sense of pack. Family. I leaned in until my mouth was right by Tim’s ear—I did not want Hope to overhear. “You need to be careful, youngling.” The slow drag of a growl resonated in the rasp of my voice, and the urge to squeeze harder, to destroy this creature before he could harm our human pounded at my mind.
He threatened our human.
Claws slowly extended, pricked against soft, vulnerable flesh.
He has no respect for pack.
The corner of my lip lifted. Ending him would be so easy.
He thinks humans deserves no protection.
Blood welled at Tim’s throat. Just one drop.
He kicked his feet.
Satisfaction was a slow, uncurling fire in my chest, and it was also a warning. A warning I should heed before regaining control became impossible.
“The female is under pack protection.” My lips barely moved with the soft-spoken words. “Harm her and the next time we need a demonstration to scare off the monster I will give you to Ruarc.”
The sudden stench of renewed terror permeated the air. It would not have surprised me had he leaked. Eyes wide and face going purple, Tim looked over my shoulder at Ruarc. Whatever he saw on the enforcer’s face—or whatever rumors he recalled—had him flailing in my grip and clawing at my hand.
I gave him one last squeeze before letting go. He tumbled to the ground, clutched at his throat while gulping down big mouthfuls of air.
Satisfied he would not soon forget this lesson, I stepped back and concentrated on finding my center. Each time my control slipped it was a little harder to regain it. Age had a way of wearing on a soul, especially when time carried so many burdens and no one to share them with.
“I-I am w-working . . . I will be working to pay—”
My hand found Hope’s trembling shoulder and put a stop to her shaky explanation.
“You don’t need to defend yourself, love,” Jason said in a hard voice. “It’s Tim who should be explaining himself.”
The male in question staggered to his feet and glared down at the ground. “How could you put one of her kind above one of your own? Our ancestors meant for us to rule, not them!”
Confusion pinched Hope’s face, but though she clearly did not understand what Tim meant, she stood her ground and blocked Ruarc from Tim’s view. Or she would have, had she been anywhere near his height and width. It was as though she didn’t want Tim to refocus on Ruarc, and would rather hear Tim continue to abuse her than to watch Ruarc suffer.
“Is this the kind of trash you allow into your den, Blake?” Lucien asked.
Blake stroked two fingers down his throat, lip curling. “He’s the nephew of our only female, raised in a pack supporting Rederick. Her brother asked that we take him in and give him a chance.” He swallowed, shook his head. “I see now it was a mistake.”
“You can’t be serious?” Tim gaped up at his potential pack mates. “Over a filthy hu—”
“Enough.” Lucien’s cold command cut through the air. With Hope trembling before Tim but refusing to back down, and with Jason’s bulging arms straining with the effort of holding a snarling Ruarc back, Lucien strolled over to where Tim was standing. He cast a quick look back at me, and I nodded.
If he wanted to do this, all the better. Ruarc would go too far and I could not interfere in another alpha’s pack.
“That’s quite enough,” he said again. Face devoid of all emotions, he stared at Tim until the other man dropped his gaze. “I challenge.”
“Heard,” Blake called out.
“Seconded,” Zakh muttered.
Tim gasped, wide eyes roaming over both members of the pack he had been so sure would accept him. “You can’t let him do this! It’s barbaric!”
“It is fitting then, as you seem determined to live in the past,” Lucien replied.
A near cr
azed expression overtook Tim as he glared at Hope. “This is all your fault!” Before he could do anything he would regret, Blake and Zakh closed in on him and pulled him a few steps away.
Hope finally took a step back. She looked like a lost lamb, gaze darting back and forth between the new arrivals as they began arguing among themselves in quiet whispers. Another step, onto my foot this time.
“Oh, s-sorry,” she mumbled, peeking up at me with those big brown eyes. “W-what’s happening?”
“Nothing yet.” It was the truth. The Challenge would take place the next day at dawn.
Something on her face told me she was unhappy with my avoidance, but she simply said, “Okay,” and backed away until she was inside.
Her light steps carried her around the corner, out of sight, and then there was just the sound of her hurrying up the stairs and slamming the door to her room.
“I’ll go,” Ruarc growled.
33
HOPE
“What were you thinking?” Ruarc roared, his hands on my shoulders tightening. “You could have been hurt!”
A few seconds after I’d left the ugly confrontation downstairs, he’d come charging after me like an angry bull, shaking me until my teeth clattered while snarling something about careless females.
I blinked. Watched his eyes narrow into thin slits. Rage and pain swirled in a sea of glowing silver, blending until the sharp emotions were indistinguishable from one another.
Had I done that?
“I just . . . I didn’t think that—”
“Damn right you didn’t think!” The force of his growled admonishment left me temporarily speechless. He was furious.
But why?
I lowered my gaze, unable to look at that wide, tense jaw or those angry, black eyebrows as they snapped together. “I . . .” I didn’t know what to say, how to explain. When I’d overheard Tim’s rant against Ruarc, something in me had snapped. A small, fragile part of me, a part I’d thought long dead, had expanded its wings in a burst of indignant fury.
How dared Tim speak like that about Ruarc?
The feel of a molten gaze burning my face, of Ruarc’s rough palm sliding past my shoulder and down my arm, rubbing against my bare skin, raising gooseflesh where it touched.