by Ariel Lei
“I’m so sorry, my girl,” Amelia murmured. Neoma opened her mouth to tell her the truth, but the sight of Dwain walking into the shelter stopped her cold. She glared at him from over Amelia’s shoulder. He shook his nearly bald head, his black braid swaying with the movement, as if he knew she was about to tell Amelia everything he’d told her.
I’ll kill the witch. His voice was in her head. She mentally blocked him so that he couldn’t talk to her through the Pack link, but took note of his warning.
“Your father was a good man,” Amelia stated, softly. A tear slid down Neoma’s bruised cheek.
“He was innocent,” she stared right at Dwain as she said it. Dwain smirked. The urge to smack him was strong. She fisted her hands instead.
“Let me take a good look at you.” Amelia pulled away and ran her eyes over her. She took in the yellow dress she was wearing and shook her head. “You’ve lost weight,” she muttered. She lifted her hand to her bruised cheek and gently stroked it. “Poor girl. That nasty Alpha hurt you. He left a scar, too.” Her eyes had fallen to the two inch long red line on top of her right breast.
Dwain raised his brow. “They used silver on you?” Neoma ignored him.
Amelia cleared her throat, no doubt sensing the tension between the two. “Some healing balm will help with the swelling of your cheek. Let’s get you clean and out of that horrid dress first though.”
Dwain opened the flap. “She’ll meet you by the stream.” Amelia nodded and took the hint to leave. Dwain was on Neoma before she could even blink, his large hand circling her throat.
“Don’t ever ignore me again. When I ask you a question, you answer it. Do you understand?” he snarled, his eyes turning dark and angry. When she didn’t answer right away, his hand tightened on her throat. “Perhaps you didn’t hear me the first time. Do. You. Understand?”
She gasped. “Yes.” He kept the pressure on her throat for a moment, his silent way of saying he was in charge. When he pulled back, she sucked in a breath and rubbed where he’d grabbed her. She touched the ring her father had given her before Jonas dragged him away. It was still there. She let out a sigh.
Dwain straightened his spine, standing to his full height of six foot three inches. Her five foot nine inch frame felt small next to him. “If you tell anyone what I told you, I’ll see to it they have a nasty accident. Just like Wade,” he threatened. The mention of Wade brought tears to her eyes. “Do you understand?” he asked in a hard tone.
Neoma nodded. “Yes,” she whispered, brokenly. Dwain smiled in satisfaction and lifted her chin.
“Good.” As he leaned down to kiss her, she pulled away. With a growl, he tightened his grip on her chin and forced her mouth up to his. His lips crash down on hers painfully. When she didn’t respond to the kiss, he bit the inside of her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. The metallic taste filled her mouth, followed shortly by his disgusting tongue. He groaned and pulled her against him, deepening the kiss and grinding his hardness against her stomach. She squeezed her eyes shut as a wave of nausea crashed over. She thought about Mason and the two times they’d kiss. He never made her feel dirty like this.
“Tonight,” Dwain murmured, huskily, as he pulled away, “I’ll taste more than your pretty mouth.” He smiled and licked her blood off his lips. “I expect you to be waiting for me when I come to bed.” As soon as he stepped away from her, she ran from out of the shelter as fast as she could. Her stomach heaved as she fought down the urge to be sick. She wiped her mouth and spat blood on the ground. Looking up, she saw that she was being watched by the men and woman of her Pack.
The werewolves in the Tribal Pack wore little clothing, only enough to cover their female and male parts. Most of the women wore beaded or animal skin bras, complete with a skirt and sandals. Each wore a colourful assortment of self-made necklaces and bracelets to prettier themselves for the men. The men wore shorts made from animal skin, or loincloths made from fur, and often remained topless. The male warriors of the Pack would wear necklaces holding teeth to show off their kills. The more teeth they had dangling from the necklace, the more kills they’d made.
Neoma stood straight and tried to look confident as she began walking through the camp towards the stream. Eyes followed her every step. And each person bowed their head in respect as she passed them.
“Neoma.” Sian, her best friend, held her hand out as she passed. Neoma took her hand and pulled her into a hug. Sian had long, wavy, black hair, grey eyes, and a pretty, heart shaped face. She was as tall as Neoma, but where Neoma was stick thin, Sian had killer curves the men in camp drooled over. Sian was much like Neoma in personality. She used what the goddess had given her to survive. But where Neoma played on her emotions and good acting skills, Sian played on her sexuality, often seducing men to get what she wanted.
Losing her virginity at sixteen, Neoma was far from innocent, but sleeping around was something she never wanted to stoop to. But that was before Mason came into her life. Hadn’t she basically told him she would do whatever he wanted so long as he let her father go? She knew deep down she was talking about sex. Even if she hadn’t come right out and said it.
Sian pulled back from the hug. “I was so worried,” she said. Her soft face turned hard. “What were you thinking following Wade,” she scolded. Tears welled up in Neoma’s eyes, and she fought them back.
“I was stupid,” she whispered. Sian pulled her into another hug. “I thought he was hunting. Why did he cross onto Alpha MacKaye’s territory?” she asked. She still didn’t know.
“He was. But the herd of moose we hunt have relocated due to our hunting activities. He was supposed to sneak onto Alpha Kruz’s territory and bring back some game. The herd must have cut through to Alpha MacKaye’s,” Sian explained. She shook her head. “Wade should have known better than to follow them there.” A sob worked its way up Neoma’s throat.
“Wade is dead.”
Sian hugged her tighter. “I know. Dwain told us Alpha MacKaye ordered his men to kill him,” she murmured, sadly. Neoma stiffened at the lie. She wanted to tell her the truth, but didn’t want to risk endangering her. “Skull is burying his body,” she added. Neoma pulled away.
“Skull brought his body back?” she asked. Sian shook her head.
“Skull hasn’t come back yet.” How odd. It was midday when he was ordered to get rid of Wade. Looking up, Neoma saw that the sun was setting in the sky. Surely Skull should have been back by now.
She looked around the camp, her eyes taking in all the small, brown shelters made from clay and wood. A group of children were playing in front of the fire pit. “He should have been back by now,” she murmured.
“You don’t think Alpha MacKaye followed you and killed him, do you?” Sian asked, nervously. Neoma shook her head. She would have probably sensed Mason’s presence had that been the case. And even if he had, he would have to be in her Pack to see them or their camp.
The spell Amelia had cast years ago was an illusion spell. In place of the camp and the Tribal Pack was a fake image of the forest around them. Each shelter looked like a tree. The fire pit looked like a massive boulder. Any sound made sounded like birds and animals. Scents were covered with the smell of the earth. Each Pack member was invisible as long as they were inside the magical area. Had Mason been standing right next to Neoma, he still wouldn’t see her. However, if he were to sense her presence and reach out to touch her, his eyes would see what was really there. This was the main reason they still didn’t like taking any risks at being followed.
“Alpha MacKaye had no reason to follow us. He has what he wants,” she whispered. She swallowed the lump forming in her throat and tried not to think about him.
Sian touched her shoulder gently. “Come on. Amelia is waiting by the stream for you.”
***
After bathing in the stream, Neoma had changed into one of her outfits, finding them in her father’s bedroom that Dwain had now taken as his. She wore a black beaded bra top, white,
animal skin skirt with lace falling down to the back of her knees, and black sandals that wrapped around the bottom of her legs. On the top of each arm were bronze bracelets. Her waist length, blonde hair had been braided. A white beaded tiara sat around her head. Amelia had soothed the swelling and bruise that Dwain had made on her cheek with healing balm. Her face felt a lot better.
Standing in front of the camp fire, Neoma tossed the yellow dress into the orange flames that Mason had given her to wear after she shifted from her wolf to human form, wanting to burn the memory of him with it.
She looked up at the starlit sky, wondering if her father was still alive. Sian put her arm over her and lay her head on her shoulder. Neoma took comfort from her friend as tears streamed down her face.
“I don’t know what to do. My heart is crushed. I’ve never felt like this before,” she whispered. She felt utterly helpless. Broken.
“Just promise you won’t do something stupid?” Sian asked, softly.
“What aren’t you telling us, my girl?” questioned Amelia from the other side of her. Neoma sniffled. She opened her mouth to speak but shut it again. “Something happened while you were kept prisoner, didn’t it?” Amelia was too perceptive. She turned to look at the older woman. The glow from the fire made her violet eyes look almost red.
“Yes. Something that should have been wonderful.” Amelia cocked her head to the side and studied her carefully.
“You found your fated mate didn’t you, sweetheart?” Neoma nodded.
A small gasp came from Sian. “How did you know?” she asked.
“Her aura has changed. I noticed right away. She isn’t just grieving for her father or Wade. Her grief goes deeper than that. Her soul is fractured,” Amelia answered. Sian wrapped her other arm around Neoma.
“Oh, Neoma, I’m so sorry.” The sympathy in her voice made Neoma cry harder. She wanted to be strong, but her strength had been sapped by heartache. She wanted to tell them everything.
As if sensing her thoughts, Dwain called for her. She wiped her eyes and turned to the sound of his voice. He stood at the other end of the camp with ten other werewolves. They looked as if they were ready to go out hunting. She frowned and started towards them. Dwain met her halfway. He grabbed her by the arm and led her to the shelter.
“No more tears,” he bit out. Neoma growled at him in anger. He raised his hand to hit her, and then must have realised Amelia and Sian were watching from the fire, and thought better of it. He smile tightly and rubbed his head.
Leaning in as of to kiss her cheek, he hissed in her ear, “I’ll deal with you later. I was going to be gentle during out mating, but I think you need to be taught a lesson in respect.” His hold on her arm tightened painfully. “Get inside the shelter and stay there.”
“Where are you going?” she asked. He glared at her. “Skull still hasn’t returned?” Her tone was mocking. Dwain’s glare turned menacing. He flashed his canines at her, and she took a cautious step back. He pointed to the open flap next to her.
“Get. In. The. Shelter.” Neoma took another step back so that she was standing just inside. Dwain pressed his lips together to hold back his temper. He reached forward and tugged the string holding the flap up, and it fell down in front of Neoma’s face, separating them.
When she heard his footsteps retreat from the shelter, she turned around and made her way to her father’s sleeping area. She leaned down next to the makeshift bed and reached underneath it. When her hand touched a small wooden box, she pulled it out. She set the box on the bed and opened it. Inside was an old dagger. The blade was made from silver and the curved handle from bone. It was still sharp. She took hold of the hilt, careful not to touch any silver. She may not have been able to scar now, but she knew it would still burn her. After shoving the box back under the bed, she crawled under the fur blanket. She put the dagger underneath the feathery as she turned to lie on her side. When Dwain came to her to keep good on his threat, she’d be ready.
***
Neoma’s eyes shot open, sensing someone next to her. I fell asleep. She slipped her hand under the pillow and grabbed the dagger. When a hand touched her bare shoulder, she shot up and thrust her arm forward. Her attack was blocked, and the dagger knocked from her hand. She went to scream out, but her mouth was quickly covered. As she was shoved back down on the bed, she thrashed wildly, her heart racing with panic.
“Neoma. Stop.”
Her body stilled at the sound of the voice. She blinked, staring up at a shadowed face. On instinct, she shifted her vision from human to wolf. The outline of the person above her became clearer. Wade? She pulled her mouth away from his hand.
“You...you’re...” She was lost for words.
“Dead?” he supplied. She nodded slowly, her sleep fogged mind trying to understand what was happening.
“Skull made the mistake of untying my hands and gloating about killing me slowly. Even in a drugged and beaten state, he underestimated my will to live.” The smile Wade cracked would have made Neoma laugh, had she not been welling up with tears of relief.
“Get up. Dwain will be back soon. We need to leave before he is.” He pulled her up from off the bed. She grabbed the dagger and followed him through the shelter. When they got outside, Neoma was surprised to see Amelia and Sian waiting for them.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Sian demanded. Neoma looked at Wade in question. He shrugged.
“I snuck into camp and went straight to Amelia and Sian. I told them everything. They’re going to help me get you out of here,” he explained. Amelia pulled a black vial from her dress pocket. She passed it to Neoma.
“This is a new potion that I’ve recently come up with. Drink. It will hide your scent for a few hours. Enough time to disappear.” She offered the vial to her. Neoma drank some of it, grimacing at the sour tasting liquid inside. Amelia passed the vial to Sian and then Wade. Once they were done, she put it back into her pocket.
“Aren’t you coming with us?” Neoma asked. Amelia shook her head.
“No. Someone needs to stay here and protect the others,” she answered.
“We need to go,” Wade insisted. Amelia gave her a quick hug.
“Go. Be safe.” Neoma looked around the empty camp, praying to the goddess everyone was going to be okay. Sian took her by the hand, pulling her along as she followed Wade.
As soon as they left the safety of the camp, Neoma felt determination rise up in her. “I’m going to rescue my father,” she whispered. “You two don’t have to come.” Wade’s back stiffened, and she knew he didn’t like the idea. It didn’t matter though. Her mind was made up.
This was the only opportunity she had. And she wasn’t about to let it pass by.
Chapter Seventeen.
Neoma.
Neoma stared at the prison she’d been kept in. They’d been lucky not to have been caught so far. Spotting the security camera’s Mason had around his territory had been difficult in the dark, but she’d managed to avoid several. Avoiding the ones in front of this building could prove more difficult. There was no way they wouldn’t be seen. But she needed to get inside. Her father was in there.
“Are you two sure you want to do this?” she whispered, turning to look at Wade and Sian. Now that the wolfbane was out of Wade’s bloodstream, the cuts and bruises he’d received from being tortured had started to heal. He had a few new ones Skull had managed to do while he attempted to take his life, but they were minor. Wade had hit him several times across the head with a rock, knocking him out cold. It was a story Neoma knew he’d enjoy telling in the future. If we live pass tonight, she reminded herself.
“I’m not letting you do this on your own,” Wade murmured.
“Neither am I,” Sian agreed, holding up a small dagger she had in her hand. It wasn’t made from silver like Neoma’s, but it would still do damage. “Okay, we need to stick together. As soon as they realise we are here they’ll be on us like a rash. We need to get in and out as fast as we can.” Neoma�
��s heart raced in her chest.
Wade shook his head. “This is too unplanned, Neoma.” She had to admit; she was being spontaneous.
“I know,” she whispered, “but I don’t have time to come up with a better idea. This is my father’s life at stake. It’s now or never.” It was well past midnight. She was hoping Mason, Jonas, Jake and Gary were at home asleep. They were the biggest threat to her plan.
Here goes nothing. She opened her mind up to her companions. Talking out loud was too risky at this point.
Just as she stepped out from the tree she was hiding behind, the door to the prison opened. Wade grabbed her arm and yanked her back. Her heart stopped in her chest for a moment.
That was close, Sian gasped.
Too close, Neoma agreed.
“You don’t need to walk me home. I’m a big girl now. I can walk on my own,” a silky female voice spoke.
“It’s not safe to walk home on your own at this time of night, Courtney. So forget it. I’m walking you like it or not.” Neoma recognised Jonas’s voice. The woman laughed softly.
“You take the roll of big brother too seriously,” she murmured. “Tell Mason he knows where I am if he needs me.”
Neoma’s heart clenched painfully. Mason and this woman were close. Intimately close. It was obvious from the way she spoke his name.
A gust of wind carried Jonas’s and the female’s scent towards her. She was already familiar with Jonas’s scent. But the Cranberry scent? Yes. She recognised that, too. It had been all over the clothes she was given to wear while being kept prisoner. Her heart clenched again. Now she knew who the clothes had belonged to. There was no doubt in her mind that this girl was close to Mason. Knowing that he’d chosen her clothes for Neoma to wear was an insult to injury. Did her feelings mean so little?
The woman started walking towards where Neoma, Wade and Sian were hiding behind the trees. When she heard Jonas follow, she held her breath anxiously. The potion they drank to conceal their scent was wearing off now. If they got too close, they might be able to smell them. As they got closer, her body tensed up.