by Laura Taylor
The van pulled up, and the doors slid open, a volley of words in Ukrainian pouring out even before the shifters emerged. There were four of them, all male, and Baron felt himself tense as he took in the size of them. They were all tall, broad shouldered, thick muscles evident beneath a healthy layer of fat – winters in Ukraine were cold, after all, and if they’d been living at the edge of civilisation, in an area with no electricity or running water, they would have had to perform a lot of daily tasks by hand and make do with wood fires for warmth, with no modern heating.
The oldest of the men looked around at his new home, grinning with satisfaction as he took in the grand, grey manor, the wide lawn, the thick forest… until his gaze settled on Baron.
This was the alpha, Baron realised immediately. Nikolai. And for a moment, the two of them merely sized each other up. It was always awkward, having two or more alphas on the same property for the summer, and sometimes they managed to get through it all with politeness and diplomacy, but other times serious arguments and occasionally even fights broke out as some dispute or other had to be resolved. This year, they had four alphas, Baron, Caroline, Nikolai and a female alpha from Norway, and when you threw Andre into the mix, a Council emissary with no official status in any Den, thing were bound to get tense.
Nikolai stalked towards him, his eyes never leaving Baron’s, and he stopped just two feet away, head held high. Baron saw an immediate reflection in their human selves of the stand-off that would have taken place if they were in wolf form, hackles up, tails high, each assessing the strengths and weaknesses of their opponent.
Suddenly, Nikolai grinned, lunged forward and caught Baron in a bone-crushing hug that actually managed to lift him off the ground for a moment. “Baron! My friend! It is good to finally meet you,” he declared, his English fluent, though his accent was strong. “I have heard many stories of your victories. Here.” He reached into his coat, withdrawing a tall bottle. “I have brought you vodka! A gift for you, my friend.” He looked around, taking in the scenery again. “Welcome to Scotland!” he declared, when Baron should really have been the one to offer the greeting. “Your weather is dreadful. And this is your other alpha?” he asked, making Baron realise that Caroline had arrived beside him. “Caroline. I have heard good things about you. Your wife, no?”
“No,” Baron and Caroline answered simultaneously, which made Nikolai laugh.
“No? That is fine. I am not married to our alpha, either. She is a total bitch. A fine warrior. We argue all the time.”
Baron grinned, suddenly deciding he liked this man, status issues aside. He offered his hand, pleased when he felt the man’s firm grip. “Welcome to Scotland,” he said belatedly. “Grab your bags, and I’ll show you to your rooms.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
16 Years Ago
Caroline stalked slowly through the undergrowth, testing each step with a careful paw. The ground was damp, rotting leaves cushioning her feet and rendering her steps all but silent, but that was no excuse for getting careless. To her right, Rintur, one of the Grey Watch’s wolves, crept forward with just as much care, their bodies held low, tails tucked down to avoid rustling any bushes. And up ahead was their prize: a handful of rabbits, grazing on fresh clumps of grass, ears twitching as they remained alert to the slightest hint of danger.
The two of them crept closer, their grey bodies camouflaged perfectly in the dim light of the undergrowth, ferns blocking the rabbits’ view of them. A dozen yards from their prey, Rintur paused, and Caroline followed suit. Hunting was still very new to her, but Rintur had been an excellent teacher, and Caroline glanced her way, reading her intentions from her body language. They could get no closer without being detected, and she watched as Rintur braced herself, her canine body like a coiled spring ready to pounce. Caroline copied her, gathering her legs beneath her, her balance perfect, ready for that final sprint that would, with any luck, land them both a meal.
She peered through the leaves, picking out her target, a small rabbit on the fringes of the group that seemed not quite as alert as the rest. Breathed out. Breathed in… and attacked, a short, sharp dash out of the undergrowth, twisting as the rabbit bolted, going left, then right, then left again, Caroline responding on razor sharp reflexes, lunging forward… and she screeched to a halt, almost surprised at herself as she came up with a rabbit in her teeth, a high pitched squeal coming from the animal as it kicked its back legs in terror.
Caroline bit down hard, breaking the animal’s neck swiftly and ending its pain. She glanced around, pleased to see that Rintur had been successful as well, a larger rabbit in her mouth, and she wagged her tail to show her joy at her accomplishment.
Rintur glanced around, checking that no one else was hovering in the background, waiting to steal her meal, and then she slunk away, lying down beneath a bush to enjoy her prize. Caroline chose a similar spot, a cosy nook inside a hollow log, and set her sharp teeth to work.
It was not quite two weeks since she’d joined the Watch, and the first few days here had been fraught with tension and drama. Sempre, the alpha, had been outraged when she’d learned that Caroline was a wolf from Il Trosa. She’d spent hours snarling at her, first in wolf form, then as a human, accusing her of spying, of trespassing, of being a weak, domesticated wolf with no business in the wild.
But Caroline had stood her ground, determined in her intention to join them. She’d made no complaint about their rugged existence, content to sleep outside in wolf form that first night. She’d embraced their competitive lifestyle, throwing herself into battles over food and other resources, and she was comfortable with the lack of amenities – a bare minimum of cooking facilities, no electricity or hot water, and only the most basic items of clothing available.
When they’d finally seen that she was serious about this life in the wilderness, the Watch had accepted her as one of their own. Tough, rugged females were hard to find in this modern society that provided every conceivable convenience, they’d said, and any shifter who could embrace their canine side with such zeal was an asset to their pack. For her part, Caroline had thrown herself into every aspect of this life, hunting, tracking, learning to use her enhanced wolf senses to their full potential. Life here was a constant battle for survival, with none of the ready comforts of life in Il Trosa, and she was feeling more alive, more useful as she performed necessary tasks for her new pack, carting water, chopping firewood, hunting for food.
Once the meal of raw rabbit was finished, Caroline followed Rintur back to the camp. Her mentor seemed to enjoy her company as much as Caroline enjoyed hers, and while she would have had to admit that she missed some of her friends back at the Den, she was also far from lonely. While the senior wolves remained aloof, the younger ones had welcomed her, and three or four of them were becoming close friends.
Back at the camp, Caroline passed the small huddle of males that the Watch kept on her way through the clearing. There were three of them, toned men with the faces and bodies of male models, but they were small as wolves, skinny and unremarkable to look at. Behaviour-wise, they were meek and passive, and as she watched, one of the senior females wandered over, her human form covered in a long grey cloak, and she issued a sharp command to one of the males. He responded by shifting into human form, his hairless chest naked, a pair of thin trousers covering his legs, and followed her towards the tent without a word.
If she’d been inclined, Caroline could have fought for mating rights with the males, sex being a privilege of rank, like all resources in their camp, but in all honesty, she found little about the idea appealing. Her past experience with sex had been dull at best, painful at worst, with her previous boyfriend far more concerned about his own pleasure than hers, always eager to push her to comply, even when she wasn’t in the mood, and he’d loved to call her filthy names in the process, something Caroline had borne with resignation and a slowly growing resentment.
But despite her disinterest in sex in general and her dislike for overb
earing men, the males of the Watch were unappealing for an entirely different reason. They were weak men, Caroline had learned quickly, beaten down and submissive, responding eagerly to gifts of food or flattery over their looks, but showing no hint of defiance or will of their own. More pet than person, they seemed to seek nothing but physical pleasure from life, and the quiet acceptance of their empty existence left Caroline cold.
Further on through the clearing, she saw two of the younger wolves fighting over a bar of soap. It was almost comical to watch, neither wolf wanting to take the thing in her mouth – it must taste disgusting, after all – but equally unwilling to shift and claim possession of the thing in human form. Caroline herself had no use for such luxuries. If she wanted to get clean, she would simply strip off and bathe in the stream naked, using sand to scrub the dirt from her body. But baths were not a regular necessity, with most of her time spent in wolf form, and she snorted derisively at the pair as she passed, heading further on to the very edge of the camp, where a clear stream would provide a refreshing drink of water.
Out here in the forest, the ghosts of her past seemed more easily laid to rest. While she still thought of her mother now and then, still wondered at her reasons for returning and still felt occasional bursts of anger towards her father, she was finding that the dark memories were coming less and less often the longer she spent here. Far away from civilisation, it was easy to think that she’d escaped her past, not just her traumatic childhood, but her days with Il Trosa, the Den seeming a far away memory now. The cool forest seemed more real than thick carpet and soft couches ever had, and Caroline felt she’d finally found somewhere she belonged, amongst the rustle of the trees, the call of birds overhead and with the damp mist and light drizzle seeping into her fur.
Adriana perched in a tree high above the Grey Watch camp. She was perfectly camouflaged, wearing mottled clothing that blended in with the tree’s greens and browns, her scent disguised with the smell of pine needles, her body still and silent.
After arriving at the Den, Kendrick had wasted no time in taking her to Caroline’s room to let her learn her scent. He’d shown her photos of the woman, in both human and wolf form, and then Adriana had headed out to Caroline’s old house, beginning the slow process of tracking her from there.
Now, she waited patiently, watching as Caroline made her way across the camp. Adriana had been here since last night, sneaking in under cover of darkness, having chosen a vantage point above the stream that flowed past the camp. Sooner or later, it was almost certain that Caroline would come this way, either to get a drink, or to collect water for the camp, and now, Adriana’s patience was about to pay off. She watched as the wolf strolled across the clearing, heading for the stream. She stopped to sniff at a bush, scratched her neck with a flexible back leg, then trotted over to the water for a drink.
Adriana lined up the tranquiliser gun in her hand. Waited a moment more, until she could get a good shot at Caroline’s back leg… and pulled the trigger.
Caroline leapt in the air and snarled as she felt the dart, her startled yelp calling other wolves from nearby… and then she went down, the sedative taking effect quickly.
Howling and yipping from the others, and Sempre and the senior wolves were at the scene in seconds, examining the dart in Caroline’s leg, and then they were on full alert, guns out, scanning the surrounding area for enemies.
This was the tricky part. Adriana now had to get out of the tree and convince the Watch that she wasn’t breaking any laws, without getting shot in the process.
Carefully, slowly, so as not to alert them to her presence, she extracted a small, spiked disc from her pocket. On both sides of the disc, displayed in clear black and white, was the symbol of the Council’s emissaries, an inverted V with a slanted dash above it. A flick of her wrist sent the disc spinning to the ground, where it embedded itself in the soil via one of the spikes, and she held her breath as the shifters spun around in alarm.
Then they noticed the symbol on the disc. Sempre swore, her words clearly audible from Adriana’s vantage point. “Fucking Council…” she heard her mutter, but then Sempre sighed and reluctantly put her gun away, folding her arms and tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for their intruder to appear.
Taking her cue, Adriana moved, sliding down the tree in a graceful descent that had her landing squarely on her feet a few metres from the fuming leader of the Watch.
“You trespass,” Sempre accused her coldly, when she reached the ground.
“On the contrary,” Adriana said. “You harbour an Il Trosa fugitive amongst your ranks. I have come to collect her.”
Sempre glanced at Caroline, and Adriana stepped quickly over to her, checking that the wolf was breathing and unharmed. She was out cold, her breaths slow and even, and she carefully retrieved the dart from her leg and put it safely away.
“Fugitive? What has she done?”
“Attempted to murder her natural family, and then defied her alpha when he sought to apprehend her. My orders are to return her to the Council for trial.”
More swearing, growls from the wolves waiting nearby. “Are you going to kill her?” Sempre asked, looking like she was more than willing to make an issue of it, if the answer was yes.
“My orders are to deliver her to Italy alive,” Adriana said calmly. “What the Council chooses to do with her after that is beyond my control.” As it was, her instructions were already a surprise to Adriana. Usually, when a wolf committed such an act of betrayal, putting the perpetrator down was the standard course of action. But apparently Kendrick had pleaded for leniency when he’d spoken to the Council, and they’d agreed to take a more diplomatic approach on this occasion. “The Treaty of Erim Kai Bahn demands that you release her into my custody,” Adriana reminded Sempre. “She has committed crimes against Il Trosa, and as such, we have the right to determine her punishment.” The reverse would also be true – a shifter who betrayed the Grey Watch would be handed back to them should they attempt to seek shelter with Il Trosa, and both packs had respected the agreement for hundreds of years.
“I’m well aware of what the Treaty says,” Sempre snapped, looking none too happy about it. She bent down and stroked Caroline’s head, an act of tenderness that was at odds with the woman’s usual cold manner. “This wolf has great potential,” she said, stepping back reluctantly. “She could be a great asset to your pack. Or to ours. Mention that to your Council when you arrive.”
Interesting. It seemed that Kendrick wasn’t the only one to have recognised the value of this woman, and Adriana nodded. “I’ll inform the Council of your plea on her behalf.”
Sempre waited another moment, glaring at Adriana over Caroline’s still body, the wolves around her growling steadily, a clear display of their anger at this intrusion.
But eventually, Sempre stepped back, clearing a path for her to leave.
Adriana took a thick metal collar from inside her coat. She attached it around Caroline’s neck, much to the displeasure of the watching wolves. Then she snapped a handcuff around her own wrist and attached the two with a short length of chain. There were no guarantees Caroline would cooperate, once she regained consciousness, and after two weeks of tracking her, Adriana was not inclined to take the risk of losing her again. Then she hefted the wolf’s slender body onto her shoulder, and turned to leave.
“May Sirius guide your days and guard your nights,” she said politely to Sempre. For all their disagreements, the Watch were still shifters, allies to Il Trosa in the fight against the Noturatii.
“Get off my territory,” Sempre replied coldly. “We’ve had enough interference from Il Trosa to last a lifetime.”
Caroline came awake slowly. Her head felt foggy. There was a strange sensation around her neck, and she tried to move… but found that she couldn’t sit up. Tried to move her hands, and found them firmly secured behind her back.
Panic drove the last of the drugs out of her system, and she snapped her eyes open, st
ruggling desperately for a moment as she realised she had no idea where she was.
“You’re on a plane bound for Italy,” a female voice said, and Caroline peered up at a tall woman who stepped into her line of sight. The woman held up her left hand, and Caroline’s heart sank as she recognised the Council brand on the woman’s palm. An assassin. Fuck.
“I’m Adriana,” the woman said. “I am returning you to the Council for trial.”
It wasn’t just her hands that were bound, Caroline realised. Her feet were also tied, and a collar around her neck was chained to the wall, preventing her from moving more than a few feet. She was helpless, laid out like a hunting trophy, and the situation was as insulting as it was terrifying.
“Why didn’t you just shoot me?” Caroline asked, feigning bravery. Given the potential punishments waiting for her in Italy, it was entirely possible that death was a better option than capture.
“It’s your lucky day,” Adriana said, complete disinterest in her tone. “It seems the Council may have a use for you yet.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Caroline followed Adriana up the steps into the Italian villa, her heart pounding in her chest. It was just over three hours since she’d woken up, an hour more of the flight, and then a slow journey north from Venice, and she’d spent the time imagining all manner of horrors that could occur once they arrived. She’d heard plenty about the Council in the past two years, everyone in the Den regarding them with a strange mix of respect and annoyance, and in her experience, that meant that they were hard task masters, setting arbitrary rules for the sheer pleasure of it, but more than willing to kick anyone’s arse if they broke them.
The foyer was beautiful, white marble and ornate light fittings, and in her long grey robe, smeared with dirt and grass stains, Caroline felt completely out of place. They were going to take one look at her and kick her out. Or tell her to go and have a bath.