The Wolf You Feed Arc

Home > Other > The Wolf You Feed Arc > Page 9
The Wolf You Feed Arc Page 9

by Angela Stevens


  A few days later, nerves ransacked Felix’s stomach as he paced back and forth waiting for them. He jumped at the sound of Tore’s car despite anticipating its arrival.

  This was it. Today, Nea was bringing Rune to meet him. Now he needed to make a decision, about returning with her and Tore.

  His palms were sweaty. Could he take on a kid that had caused so much pain? Nea got out of the car and walked towards him. Behind her, Tore climbed out and hoisted a small child to his hip. Felix couldn’t help but notice how comfortable he was with the child. His heart lurched. Tore looked like a father with his son.

  Swallowing back the lump in his throat, he wondered if he could ever be that.

  A father…

  …with a son.

  He reached out to Rune and took hold of his chubby little hand.

  “Hey there, little guy, nice to meet you. I’m Felix, Mommy’s friend. You wanna take a walk with us, see if we can find any fish in the river?”

  Rune nodded, giving him a shy smile. Then, in that unconditional way small children have, he reached out and allowed Felix to take him from Tore. As Felix wrapped his arms around Rune, the little boy held on tight.

  Maybe he could be a dad to this kid, after all.

  12

  While Felix walked Rune and Nea down to the river, Tore waited at the car. He knew his friend was close to making a decision and he wondered if he would bring Felix back to Liam’s or leave Nea behind. The latter was more risky. From what Felix had told him, repatriation would not be easy, in fact it might be suicidal. He sighed, there was only one choice if his friends were going to stay together. A smile crept over his face. And that suited him fine, because that way he would be able to keep in contact with Rune.

  Tore opened the door of his rental. A twig cracked. He froze, turning his head to the sound. From nowhere, bodies crashed through the undergrowth towards him. Tore leaped back, realizing too late what was happening. David barked an order and five clan members surrounded Tore.

  Tore backed up, his hand reaching out as he stumbled. Disorientated, he glanced from face to face. Henrik, Georg, David. His worse nightmares were lined up in front of him, and they’d brought friends. Luca and Marc rounded out the group of aggressors. “Guys, please let’s…” Tore’s fight or flight reaction tugged hard. It took all his resolve to stay in place. If he ran, they’d shift, if he attacked them; they would too. Either way, this was going to end badly. He swallowed hard. How did they know he was there? Anger flared as reality dawned and he scoured the trail for Nea. “Felix, you traitor.” He yelled. Why would his friend do this?

  Felix stopped down the track and turned towards the commotion. He froze with his arm wrapped around Nea and Rune clinging to his chest. Tore glared at him, searching for an answer. But Felix’s eyes were wide, his face blanched. His friend was as clueless as he was. Tore’s mouth went dry and tension slipped from his neck and shoulders. He hung his head. Thank God. Felix had nothing to do with this.

  “Well, well.” David stepped towards Tore.

  Felix thrust Rune into Nea’s arms and ran towards his friend.

  “I’d take it easy if I were you Felix.” David’s voice was quiet, menacing. “Luca, Marc take care of him.” The Russian twins turned towards Felix and he slowed.

  “So this is where you’ve been sneaking off to,” David called over his shoulder, addressing Felix but not taking his eyes from Tore. “We were thinking you’d gotten yourself a juicy bit of tail and were holding out on us.” David glowered at Nea; she trembled wrapping her arms tight around her son. “But surprise-surprise.” His eyes darkened as he continued to stare at her. “I thought you’d have more self-respect than to allow this harlot back in your life.”

  While David’s focus was on the others, Tore seized his opportunity and lunged at him. He landed a heavy right hook to David’s jaw, sending the Lycan staggering backwards. Georg and Henrik were fast, they launched themselves at Tore, grabbing his arms and wrestling them behind his back.

  David rubbed his face with his hand and leered at Tore. “You think that is wise, Tore? You should try more diplomacy.”

  “Watch your mouth, David. Nea doesn’t deserve what you called her. She’s been faithful to Felix all this time.”

  David smirked. “Is that right, Nea? I remember things quite differently. Seemed like you cheated on Felix at least one night?” He frowned at the infant in her arms, “What do you call that? An immaculate conception?” David furrowed his brow as he looked at Rune. Nea pushed her son’s face into her chest, shielding him from David’s stare. “How old is he?” Nea shook her head, refusing to answer. “I said, how old is he?”

  David stepped forwards and looked closer at the child. He laughed out loud. “Well, what do you know! No hiding who your father is.”

  It took a moment for David’s words to sink in. Tore looked at Rune and for the first time the child’s resemblance to David hit him. He gasped. David was Rune’s father?

  Felix reached the same conclusion at about the same time that Tore did. He launched himself awkwardly at David, and knocked into Henrik instead. Caught off guard, Henrik fell backwards pushing Georg away from Tore. Seizing his opportunity, Tore overpowered Georg with a punch to his gut.

  Tore and Felix stood back-to-back facing the clan members. Georg had recovered from Tore’s blow but was still smarting. His little brother catching him off guard had doubled his aggression. He was the first to break and ran towards them, gunning for Tore. Throwing a wild punch, he just missed Tore’s jaw. Henrik followed suit, his lips curled, fists flying, face savage as he went to help Georg. Tore dodged the first few blows and circled around. Slamming his elbow into Georg’s head, he sent his older brother flailing to the ground and then he honed in on Henrik.

  Meanwhile, Felix had his own problems. Marc and Luca were taking it in turns, to reign down blow after blow. As Felix blocked and tried to protect himself, it was all he could do to fend them off. Trading punches, Felix ducked and weaved but inevitably those hits that found their target began to take their toll.

  Five against two was hopeless. From out of nowhere, Henrik’s fist connected hard with Tore’s face and sent his head flying backwards. He stumbled, wind-milling his arms in an attempt to regain his balance. Before he managed it, Henrik struck him in the stomach and Tore sank to his knees. Georg, having recovered from Tore’s earlier blow, stepped in and finished the job with a knee to his brother’s groin.

  While Tore lay writhing, Luca and Marc rushed forwards, pinning him to the ground. His brothers turned their focus to Felix who was fighting one on one with David. Henrik lunged at Felix and he dodged sideways causing Henrik to stumble. Felix lifted his knee to Henrik’s gut, and followed through by smashing his elbow into his jaw. Henrik went down with a grunt and Felix faced off with Georg.

  Tore tried to pull away from Marc and Luca. He was desperate to help his friend who was struggling against the other three, but he couldn’t shake himself free. Then, for no reason, Felix froze and backed away from Henrik, his hands raised in surrender. Shocked, Tore looked to see why his friend was giving up. His heart sank. David gripped Nea by the arm and hoisted Rune to his hip.

  “Stop! Put him down. I’ll come with you, just give the kid back to Nea,” Felix said, his hands still in the air.

  David grinned. “I don’t want you, Felix.” His eyes locked on Tore, “I want him.”

  Resigned, Tore allowed Luca and Marc to haul him to his feet.

  They bound Tore’s hands and shoved him into the back of the rental. Georg and Henrik took a seat either side of him and David climbed into the driver’s seat. Nea, Felix and Rune were bundled into a red Mustang and Luca and Marc went with them.

  The journey back to the commune took much longer than Tore remembered. As they drove, all Tore could think about was what would happen to Annike and Kjell if the clan found them.

  After ten minutes of silence, Tore stole a look at Georg. His brother continued to stare ahead, keeping his
eyes on the road.

  “Georg…”

  David glanced over his shoulder. “Shut him up.”

  Georg obliged without a moment’s hesitation. Tore didn’t see the blow coming; he just felt it connect with his cheek. Tore shut his mouth. He figured, he might as well save himself another beating.

  David chuckled to himself and winked at Tore, “You’re learning.”

  At the commune, they dragged Tore from the back of the car and dumped him in the dirt. He watched Rune, Nea and Felix enter one of the cabins.

  A black boot kicked him in the chest. As Tore sprawled on the ground, a menacing face leered back. Spitting blood, he tried to get his breath. As he looked, he saw Erik. Tore braced for another blow.

  “Well, well, well! If it isn’t my little brother! Did you not listen to father when you left? He warned you not to come back.”

  A long scar crossed Erik’s cheekbone. His hand reached up and traced it for a moment. He snarled at Tore. “I have a favor to repay you.”

  Bound and surrounded by his brothers, Tore’s only chance was to remain submissive and keep his mouth shut. He avoided looking at the scar he’d given Erik four years ago.

  His brother bent down and grabbed hold of his tee. Hauling Tore to his feet, Erik turned to David. “Where’d you find him?”

  David let out a long stream of spit through his front teeth, “Down by the river at Locust Point. We followed Felix like you told us. Seems you were right, he was up to something. Stupid idiot, you’d think after what that woman did to him he’d have more sense than to see her again. We watched them for a few nights, kept our distance, listened in. When we found out there was a kid, we decided to wait until she brought him with her. Thought we’d get Tore and his son.”

  They’d watched them? “How…” Tore blurted out.

  David laughed, “What? You think you’re the only one that knows how to hide your scent?”

  “What about Annike?” Erik asked.

  David frowned and shrugged. “Never saw her. My guess is they aren’t too far.”

  “Henrik, Georg! Get back into town. See if you can pick up a trail. She’s got to be around Cody somewhere.”

  Tore laughed and tried to sound confident, but inside terror overtook him. Annike wouldn’t stand a chance against his brothers if they found her.

  “You got something to say, little brother?” Erik stepped in closer.

  “You didn’t think I’d be stupid enough to bring her back to Cody with me? I left her with Liam.” Tore kept his face emotionless, hoping his brother would swallow the lie.

  “Liam?” Erik raised one eyebrow, “Our brother, Liam?”

  He nodded.

  “You hear that, David? Get someone to check if she’s still at Gray Wolf Lodge.”

  He knew where Liam lived?

  David walked off. Returning a few minutes later, he shook his head at Erik.

  “Seems like you’re telling me lies, little brother.”

  What? They had someone down there watching the place? How could they know so soon?

  “Funny how forthcoming a woman can be, if you use her kid as leverage.”

  Nea! “What the hell did you do to Rune?” Tore tried to get to his feet but Erik’s fist hit his face, sending him sprawling backwards once again. With his hands still bound behind his back, he had no means to retaliate or defend himself.

  Dazed from the blow, he tried to get back to his knees.

  “So where is she, Tore?”

  Thank God Nea didn’t know Cody well enough, she wouldn’t be able to tell them. “Think I’d tell you?”

  “Henrik, Georg! Go find his bitch and bring her back here. Take one of David’s trackers,” Erik said.

  They whistled to Marc and the three of them climbed into Tore’s rental.

  “Meanwhile, you and me will chat. See if I can’t jog your memory.”

  Erik delivered a punch to Tore’s kidneys. He slumped forwards onto his knees. Pain lanced through his side. Erik crouched down and pulled his brother’s head up, “Just so you know, I don’t mind sloppy seconds!”

  The thought of Erik touching Annike ignited a fire within Tore. Adrenalin surged through him. She was his. His brother was never going to have her. The instinct to protect his pack was strong. His blood boiled and the anger strengthened his battered body. Tore scrambled to his feet but Erik jumped backwards as he tried to charge him. Tore was slowed down by his restraints and Erik dodged sideways and stuck out his foot. He sent Tore sprawling face first into the mud. With a final kick, Erik walked away.

  “Lock him up.” Erik barked over his shoulder, “Father will see him in the morning.” He marched across the commune towards Isak’s cave.

  Georg and David manhandled Tore into a small steel crate. He struggled to sit upright and it was too short to stretch out his legs. They left his hands bound, and attached an enormous padlock to the outside. Then they positioned two clan members at either end of the crate.

  Tore groaned in pain. It was going to be a long night. His body ached all over; his ribs were tender from the bruising and his split lip swelled up. Tore cursed, the stiffness was already settling into his muscles and joints.

  His thoughts drifted to Annike. They’d been careful. As long as she stayed put, she’d be safe. He tried to reach her telepathically but the throbbing in his head made it impossible to focus his thoughts. Without proper control over his mind it was too risky to contact her. Instead, he shut her out. Praying that she wouldn’t turn up at the compound on some fool-rescue attempt.

  Hours later, Tore closed his eyes. There was little he could do until morning. Perhaps, when he spoke to his father, he could make a deal to allow Annike to stay with Liam. Weary, he rested his head on the side of the cage. He needed sleep. Tomorrow would be difficult enough; he’d have to have wits about him to get out of this alive.

  13

  Erik strolled into Isak’s cave, bracing himself for what he’d see. Why his father’s appearance still shocked him, he didn’t know. He took a deep breath and guarded his expression as he caught sight of his father. He wasn’t sure what was the most sickening, the sight of Isak in this pathetic state or that of his mother, kneeling and wiping the drool from his father’s slick lips.

  Isak’s illness contaminated her more than a virus or contagious disease would have done. The constant vigil had aged Lydia, sucking any vibrancy from her.

  Disgust and hatred for Isak’s ability to cling to life, riled Erik. He hadn’t anticipated his father’s decline would cause his mother so much pain and misery. Isak’s death would free her and free him. It couldn’t come soon enough.

  “What’s going on out there?” she asked.

  Erik ignored her question. She’d always had a special bond with her youngest son and he didn’t want her meddling. Tore wasn’t going to be around much longer and it would be better if she didn’t have contact with him until it was necessary.

  “Any change?” He indicated his father.

  The question was designed to distract her. Erik didn’t need to ask. The rasping breath and stench of death and decay hanging around Isak told him all he needed to know.

  Lydia shook her head.

  Of course there was no change. Isak had taken to his bed a year ago. Since then, he had been slowly deteriorating as his life trickled away. This last week was no different, except the stubborn fool had stopped taking his medication.

  His mother helped Isak to sit. Propping a bolster behind him, she took all his weight against her as she supported him. She held a glass to his lips. He took a few tentative sips before shaking his head. Erik took the tumbler from her, and she reached for some bread. Tearing off tiny pieces, she pushed them into the corners of his father’s mouth.

  Bile crawled up Erik’s throat, and he stepped back to control the nausea. No wonder Isak’s once magnificent and powerful body was so emaciated. He ate nothing but a few breadcrumbs or a couple of spoons full of white rice. His stomach couldn’t stand anything else. We
ighing less than a pre-transitioned male, his skin hung from his bones like it was melting right off them. His face was drawn, with deep black hollows circling his sunken dull eyes. His pale tongue lolled from his mouth and he gasped and spluttered over each breath.

  Isak merely existed. Yet, his mind was lucid. Too bad!

  Erik had hoped Isak would have abdicated his position and handed it over to him months ago. But his father was a stubborn man. He still managed to keep a firm grasp on clan politics, despite being unable to leave his bed. He maintained full control of the clan using Erik as his eyes and ears and calling on his sons to offer any necessary persuasion. Erik wished he’d hurry up and die. It was about time he took his proper place in the clan.

  Isak’s eyes flicked towards him. “What’s all the commotion?”

  “Nothing important. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

  He nodded and grimaced in pain. Pity stuck in Erik’s throat. He laid his hand on Isak’s forehead. Another low-grade fever made him hot and clammy.

  “You need your medicine.” Erik reached into his pocket and pulled out a small flask. Isak shook his head and put a trembling hand on his son’s. “Please, Father, you haven’t taken anything for days, you need it…”

  Isak tightened his lips and turned his head like a defiant child. “Told you… makes me feel worse… Put it away. I’m still in charge here…” He winced in pain once again, “I’m not dead yet!”

  Erik thrust the flask back into his pocket. He wished his father would just take the damn medicine and get this over with. “I’ll see you in the morning then. Oh by the way, we have visitors. I’ll bring them to you at first light.”

  His father slumped back onto the bolster, his eyes closed as exhaustion set in.

  ***

  Erik found David leaning against a tree, overlooking one of their crop fields. He held out his cigarette packet. Erik took one, lit up and inhaled long and slow. He searched the inky blackness, checking if they were alone.

  Satisfied there was no one out there, he squatted next to David. “Don’t know how the bastard’s hanging in there. It’s been months.”

 

‹ Prev