“Are you alright?” Cohen asked, his fingertip grazing her arm.
She sidestepped him and nodded.
“You don’t look alright.”
“I’ll be fine. This is nothing new,” Ashe assured him. She’d lived with this far longer than he had.
All he did was nod and take a step closer. As people filtered in and out of Vancourt house, Cohen stayed beside her. He glowered at those who dared look in her direction for too long. It was almost like the days before he’d left.
Almost.
“Look,” she began without looking at him. “I can take care of myself now. I don’t need your help.”
“Just because you don’t need it doesn’t mean I don’t feel the need to give it.”
“Be careful. That’s something an Alpha might say.”
She could feel the heat of his glare across her cheek. He didn’t like her words, but cowards rarely enjoyed the truth.
Nancy and Grover stepped out the door, both holding plastic cups of beer in their hands. They spoke about Sampson and his death, throwing pointed glances at Ashe. Nancy said she wouldn’t be surprised if someone finally succeeded in putting Sampson out of his misery while Grover commented that it would have to have been done quietly to happen under the boys’ noses.
Their eyes bored into her, accusingly. They knew she had had access to Sampson and that no one questioned the remedies she brought him. Her throat began to close, rendering her unable to breathe. How long would it be before they treated her like she was her mother? How long would it be before they burned her, too?
There was a gentle tug at her arm. Her eyes snapped up to meet Cohen’s gaze. The shadows had peeled back, and she found a softness in his eyes that made her follow. Glares burned her back as more people spilled out into the lawn, but she paid them no attention. Cohen’s gentle touch on her arm was nearly overwhelming.
She found herself craving more. She wanted to lean into him and absorb his warmth. It took her several moments to realize he’d led her to the shed they once used as a fort. He pushed the door open, dust raining down from the lack of use.
Inside sat a pair of lawn chairs and an overturned milk crate, all much smaller than she remembered. Beside an unravelling lawn chair sat a musty copy of an old fantasy novel. She knelt to pick it up, a small pang of regret thrumming through her heart.
Cohen moved to drop into one of the lawn chairs. It groaned unhappily beneath him, making Ashe laugh. He scrubbed at his face, an overgrown five o’clock shadow overtaking his cheeks. When his gaze dropped from the ceiling to her, she felt her cheeks warm.
“They all want to place blame because it seems all they know is murder now.”
“I was a bit of a raging bitch the other day,” Ashe began. “Why are you trying to play the knight in shining armor?”
“I don’t know about shining armor, but I think I’ve always been your knight. Maybe it’s because my monster recognizes yours. Monsters need to stick together, right?”
Ashe stiffened. Her heart threatened to burst. Just as she’d let her guard down, she was reminded how completely unlovable she was.
“Just because you see yourself as a monster, does not mean you are one. And, it certainly doesn’t mean that I am one.” Her voice was quiet, easily missed.
She wasn’t a monster. Right?
Ashe had worked hard to make sure she did no evil all throughout her life, to the point of catching spiders and releasing them outside rather than squishing the small beasts on sight. On the outside, Ashe tried to be an example of soft and good. But, down to her bones she feared Cohen was right. There was a monster inside her, just waiting to get out.
The force rose. It shook through her. It regarded her with wide eyes, but shared no words with her. She cursed the silent beast. Could she keep living like this? A half life torn between two worlds, neither of which she belonged to? She thought she’d been coping, she’d found a balance that had kept her sane, but it was all smashed and broken now.
“Hey,” Cohen’s voice rumbled through her. She realized he was pressed against her now. His arm wrapped around her, gentle as it held her close. His other hand wiped at her cheek, coming away wet with tears she hadn’t realized she’d shed.
As he looked down at her, she registered the war of confusion that he fought. Concern and wariness pushed and pulled inside him. Sampson had taught them that she was the monster, warned them to never go near her. It seemed those were the only words that stuck with them. She thought she would save him the trouble and shoved away from him.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Cohen growled and tugged her closer. His arm around her tightening and dropping down her back.
“I’m going back outside. If I’m going to be called a monster no matter where I am, I might as well step into the light.”
He let out a breath, a regretful sigh. “I’m… sorry for my words. I’m a recluse who doesn’t know how to handle people anymore.”
That wasn’t any kind of forgivable excuse. Ashe still wanted to smack him upside the head. She wanted to turn him into a toad, if that was at all possible.
“Cohen,” she whispered. He was close enough now that if she raised her head, her lips might touch his. In that moment, she realized she wanted to. How many times had she dreamed of just this as a teenager?
“What is it?” his lips brushed against her skin, close but not quite enough.
In the darkness of the shed, they were alone. It was only the two of them, no prying eyes or accusing words. They could be themselves. The thought allowed Ashe to breathe easier. She dragged in a long breath, as if breathing for the first time.
Could she be just a little bit of a monster? Just for a moment? Would it be all that bad if she showed him a small glimpse of what she kept hidden inside? Her whole life was a game of building walls so that no one could see the truth and it was tiring.
Just this once, she thought…
She grabbed Cohen and pulled his mouth to hers. Surprise caught him off guard, but he responded with a growl. His hands tightened on her as she nibbled his lower lip. He pressed against her, as if he could not get close enough until he was inside her. They stumbled back until her back hit a wall.
His teeth scraped against her lips, hungry, greedy. She leaned her head back, so he could push deeper. She wanted to devour him. He tasted like blood and pine. It was intoxicating. Her nails bit into his skin and he groaned into her mouth.
One arm lifted her off the ground, a hand cupping her ass to hold her in place. The other slammed against the shed wall as if he could barely hold himself back from destroying the place around them. A small thrill raced through her and crashed into her core.
It made her feel alive. The walls she erected between the beast inside her and the world came tumbling down. Something inside her stretched and yawned, the sensation of feathers grazing her skin. It was followed by a blast of power, dark like the night. Panic slammed into her. She shoved Cohen back and her feet hit the ground. They both fumbled, struggling to catch their breath in the dark.
Slowly, almost inevitably, their hands searched for one another again. She listened to Cohen’s heavy breathing in the dark as his hands wrapped around her again.
She was the witch of the Vancourt Pack. Cohen was the monster who wanted to throw away his own pack.
What a broken match they made.
“We need to leave,” Cohen suggested, his forehead pressed against hers.
Their breath mingled in the darkness, their lips brushing against one another. If they opened the door, if they stepped outside the shed, it would all be over. The spell would be broken, and Ashe would have to go back to the girl she’d been before.
She found that she didn’t want it to end. Her fingers tightened on the front of Cohen’s shirt. The thing inside her growled for more. The sound echoed through her until she rubbed against the front of him. His hands gently touched her shoulders and pushed her back.
“I would say let’s not mention thi
s, but I’m sure everyone outside heard us.”
Ashe let out a nervous laugh. Her control was gone and the walls she’d built were nothing more than a memory. She knew, if she stepped into the light, the Pack would see something inhuman in her eyes. It happened once or twice before, but always when she was alone. A cool silver would be swirling in them.
“I’m just going to wait here for a while,” she said, falling into one of the lawn chairs.
Cohen watched her, but she let her hair fall between them. She needed to get control of this. Magic burned through her veins, cold and ancient. It stirred the thing inside if her, making her bones ache. No matter how hard it fought, it couldn’t come out. Her body refused to change. All it could do was burn and ache.
Cohen hesitated, like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t move closer. Instead, he shook his head and left. She wanted to call out and beg him to stay while she hurt, but her voice was trapped inside her.
It was better this way, she reminded herself. Cohen would leave. If he wanted to run and hide again, who was she to stop him? Ashe had lived her life alone and she would continue to hold herself together. Ashe would have to be a monster by herself.
***
Cohen’s head spun. He could barely wrap his mind around what he’d just done. What he’d meant to be an act of trust, to get the witch on his side, had become an act of lust. The moment he stepped into her space, he’d lost control. The bear inside him demanded he take her, rough and wild.
Cohen had held on, but only barely. When she kissed him, it had all flown out the window. He’d slammed her against the wall, ready to bring the world crashing down around their ears if only to get deeper inside her.
What was it about the witch that drew him in? Perhaps it was the fact that he didn’t fear hurting her. She was a power he didn’t understand. Even though she feared him, he knew she would hold her own. She’d proven already that she was not going to let him walk over her. She wouldn’t let him hurt her either.
Cohen found himself replaying the moment over and over as he walked back toward his brothers. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t register their conversation until Gage punched him in the shoulder.
He snarled, surprised. Gage didn’t show fear, but Cohen saw him take a small step back.
“Fuck off, Pussy Waffle.”
Cohen arched a brow at his brother’s new nickname. Each time they got worse and worse. Not demeaning, but… dumb.
“Did you hear a thing we said or are you still mentally sticking it in Ashe?” Archer challenged.
Cohen growled. Hearing her name come from his brother’s mouth enraged him. The bear howled, and heat flooded his limbs. It was one thing for Gage, his packmate, to say things, but Archer was not under his protection. He took one step toward his brother. He would smash the man’s jaw so that he couldn’t say anything else. His hands trembled with the need to hit something. The bear growled for retribution. No one would say anything about what belonged to them.
The urge to hit his brother was overwhelming and it scared him. He fisted his hand in his hair and pulled, hoping the pain would center him. If not, he was going to have a shiny, bald patch. He wished he’d never come back. He wished he was still somewhere no one would get hurt.
He spun away from his brother and stomped back toward the house. He couldn’t deal with this many people today. It was too much for the already uncontrollable bear. Not even Gage and Kaylee could keep him steady today.
“Didn’t you hear me?” Archer shouted after him. “You have a challenge!”
Cohen came to a halt. Electricity shot through his body. Slowly, he turned toward the crowd behind him. Grover detached himself from the Pack and rolled his shoulders, wordlessly indicating who’d issued the challenge.
“Are you dumb?” Cohen snapped. “I’m Alpha of no one and nothing. What do you think to gain by challenging me?”
Gage cleared his throat. Cohen glanced at his brother, reminding Cohen that he was an Alpha. Still, Grover’s challenge earned him nothing. What did he hope to win by challenging Cohen?
“But, you’re the one who stands to inherit it all. If you were still Pack, you’d be in line for the position.”
“But, I’m not.” Cohen was tempted to take the challenge just to knock some sense into the other bear shifter. Grover was weak, despite what he thought of himself. It would take nothing to knock the man around.
He shook his head and turned away again. Grover called after him, but he ignored the call. The din of the crowd rose into a roar as they all cried out with dismay. He couldn’t hear their voices, but he knew they weren’t happy.
Then, just as the roar rose, it died. The entire lawn grew silent.
“I’ll take you up on that challenge, sir.”
The voice echoed through the lawn. It was familiar and the bear inside Cohen growled. He spun to find a smirking man staring at them, hands shoved in his pockets as if this was a casual meeting on the street. Not like he’d snuck onto another Pack’s territory.
“Leave,” Cohen demanded. The power inside him wove through his voice.
He watched it hit the other shifters. They flinched, but Killian only grinned wider. If Cohen’s power held any sway over him, he didn’t show it. Killian waltzed forward, a swagger in his step that made Cohen want to hurt him. Hell, Cohen just wanted to hurt him. This man was the reason everything was still upside down.
Sampson had left a vacuum of power by not ordering the challenges to take place sooner, but Killian shook the proverbial beehive with only his presence.
“You said it yourself,” Killian began. “You aren’t an Alpha. You can’t tell me crap.”
Cohen’s jaw tightened. As he stalked toward the man, he imagined what it would feel like to crush the jaguar’s bones with his teeth. Killian just looked up at him, the gleam of mania burning in his eyes.
“I’ll accept the black bear’s challenge in your stead.” Killian sidestepped Cohen and threw a wink back at the man. “I’m going to steal this Pack right out from under your nose and there’s nothing you can do about it. I might even find me a new mate to cuddle at night.”
Cohen spun toward Grover. If he could get Grover to deny the challenge, then Cohen could kill Killian once and for all. But, Grover shook his head. He wasn’t about to back down from Killian’s demand. The other bear shifter either had a death wish or something to prove because he stepped up to the jaguar shifter and grasped his hand. They shook, and Cohen could already tell the outcome of the confrontation.
Across the lawn, Cohen found Ashe. She leaned against the shed and watched everything go down. Her lips were bruised and stained with blood. He hadn’t even realized he’d drawn blood. She looked like an ancient goddess of death, the queen of battle. Her eyes flashed as they flickered to him.
He caught a glimpse of something metallic in them, and then it swiftly vanished. She slowly looked back toward the circle that widened in preparation for the fight. Killian saw her, too. The smile that slipped over Killian’s face was predatory and nearly brought the bear crashing out of Cohen. If Killian won and fought his way to the top of the Vancourt Pack, he would try to lay claim to Ashe.
When Cohen looked back to her, the visage of the goddess he’d seen was gone. In it’s place was the scared teenager he’d once protected. She shrank back from Killian’s gaze. Her hair fell over her face as if that might protect her. Where was the power she’d just shown him? The strength?
It withered and vanished under Killian’s harsh gaze.
***
Grover wasn’t looking good, even for a shifter. Cohen and Gage had dragged him inside and laid him onto an old and, probably uncomfortable couch. Archer had placed himself in the doorway, preventing a very smug Killian from entering the house while Ashe worked on treating Grover.
Honestly, there was little she could do. Her innate power did not lie in healing. She was forced to work with the remedies left over from Sampson’s room. And, even then, she was unsur
e of which to use. Any one of them could contain the poison that killed her old Alpha. If she used that on Grover and he died…
She shut her eyes and tried to control the nervous tremble in her hands, but it was to no avail. She slammed the jar down onto the floor and ran into the kitchen. There had to be something there she could use. She dug through the refrigerator in search of fresh herbs or vegetables and came up with nothing more than glass bottles of beer. Frustration made her jaw tight. She moved on to the cupboards. Dried herbs often had intense flavor, but their healing properties would be muted.
She slammed the cupboard shut and fought back a growl. What could she do? A monster had infiltrated her Pack, worse than any other she’d faced before. The way Killian had looked at her, like a piece of meat he would be more than happy to eat raw, had terrified her. She was a mouse caught in a corner. She would be eaten by the cat or find herself in a fire made by her own family. No matter what she did, she was powerless.
Ashe dropped to her knees. Tears burned her eyes. She was useless.
“Want to help me kill him?” Cohen’s voice asked.
“Don’t ask me things like that,” she grumbled from between her fingers. “You’ll make the Pack hate me even more.”
“How about I promise to keep them from hurting you? Will you help me kill Killian then?”
“What can I even do? I’m useless. I can’t even heal Grover. At this rate, it will take days for him to fully heal and there will be scars.”
“Good. Let him learn from his mistakes. He isn’t as strong as he likes to think he is, and the scars will remind him of his place every time he looks in the mirror. Maybe then he will stop making stupid decisions.”
She laughed; it was a choked sound through her tears. It was mean, but it was the truth of the matter. Grover hadn’t even been prepared to challenge Cohen like he had. Who did he even think he was? Now, because of Grover’s stupidity, Killian was Pack.
She glanced out the door past Archer to see the feline shifter lounging in a lawn chair, as if he had no worry in the world. His head turned toward her and when their eyes met, a small smile slipped over his lips.
Outcast BoxSet Page 32