Cutting Ties

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Cutting Ties Page 1

by C. M. Torrens




  Cutting Ties

  By C.M. Torrens

  Sequel to The Alpha’s Weave

  Pack Born: Book Two

  War is looming, and as the alpha, it falls to Dante to protect his shifter pack from the hybrid creatures spawned to prey upon them. To that end he joins forces with the Nephilim Odin in the hopes of keeping both their people safe, though past slights and animosity between the clans continue to cause strain. Attacks on the packs and Nephilim clans increase, and the seemingly endless army of hybrids will not stop growing. Dante knows their only chance to put an end to the carnage is to find the nest where his twin August and August’s mistress are creating the hybrids.

  With entire cities being destroyed, Dante must call upon the pack weave to find the people who have been captured—and the nest. Dante and Odin gather an army for an all-out attack. Though a desperate and risky move, Dante has been backed into a corner and he sees no other alternative. It’s a battle they must win at any price, because the cost of losing will be catastrophic.

  Table of Contents

  Blurb

  Dedication

  1. The Making

  2. Homecoming

  3. The Hunter

  4. Monster under the Stairs

  5. Past Mistakes

  6. Pack and Clan

  7. The Elders

  8. Hybrids

  9. Dante’s Pet

  10. The Gathering

  11. Speakers

  12. No Sleep

  13. Elders and Ancients

  14. Among the Packs

  15. Hate and Hybrids

  16. Working Together

  17. Mistress’s Plan

  18. Ancient Advice

  19. Human Intervention

  20. Home

  21. Vegas

  22. About the Past

  23. Out of the Darkness

  24. Last Stand

  25. First Shift

  26. Burning Cities

  27. Behind Enemy Lines

  28. August

  29. River

  30. No One to Save Her

  31. Jax’s Gift

  32. Mate

  33. Letting Go

  34. Bloody Sacrifice

  35. Cutting Ties

  36. The Silence

  37. The Dead Can’t Hear

  More from C.M. Torrens

  About the Author

  By C.M. Torrens

  Visit DSP Publications

  Copyright Page

  For my husband, who was incredibly patient while I wrote this during the holiday season. And a special thank-you to Ella, Kat, and Margie, who wouldn’t let me stop writing and helped me make the hard decisions.

  1. The Making

  THE CONSTANT hum of the industrial fan drowned out the sounds from inside the basement. Twenty human men and women were chained to the concrete walls and floors among a nest of blankets. Some were weeping, others screaming as the virus ripped through their bodies. The once-shifter virus tried to trigger the change in them, but they weren’t shifters. Instead their muscles contracted as if they could and their bones strained under the stress.

  August watched one woman through the window in the door as she screamed and began clawing at her skin. For a shifter the virus was like having the flu. The muscles wanted to shift, the skin itched, and fever and nausea wracked the body, but generally it was not especially life-threatening. Keying it to humans had made it lethal to 50 percent of all humans that they had given it. But lethal wasn’t what they were trying to achieve. They wanted them to survive, but the timing had to be just right. Just when their bones started to break, when the fever was high enough and the virus delivered all of its wonderful new bits of DNA throughout the body, that was when it was time to supply the cure.

  Well, a cure of a sort.

  The whole process took only seven days. Seven days to change a worthless creature like a human into something… new.

  He unbolted the heavy steel door and stepped into the room. The scent of sickness was nauseating. Rags covered the floor, and buckets were filled with bile and excrement. He narrowed his eyes at the sight. The hybrids should have been cleaning up this mess throughout the week.

  He shook his head and grabbed the first one of the night. Mistress made all of her hybrids herself. She needed them all under her control, so the only real limit on the number they could make was the number of humans she could change in a single night. It was exhausting work for her, and twenty was her limit. It took a couple of weeks for her to recover. Then they could do it again.

  Now that they had perfected the process, they could keep this up indefinitely. Or until they ran out of humans, which wasn’t likely.

  August dragged the sick female up the stairs and into the upper part of the cabin. It still held the look of an old hunting retreat. The dark wood paneling, animal heads, and a picture of dogs playing poker remained untouched since they acquired the place. Mistress waited on the couch sipping a glass of wine. She was a very small woman dressed in nothing but a sheer robe. She barely looked over the age of eighteen. Her hair was jet black, and her eyes had gone just as black with excitement. She loved making new children.

  “Please.” The sick woman’s voice trembled and cracked, barely audible in the quiet room. Her glassy eyes and flushed cheeks shone with fever as she stared up at the Mistress. “Please, make it stop.”

  August ignored her pleas and dropped her onto the cushion in front of his mistress. The girl fumbled and tried to move away, but the pain of the sickness made her slow. August shoved her back to the Mistress with his boot.

  “Aw, come here, child,” Mistress said. “I can make you all better. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “I just wanna go home,” the young woman whimpered. “What did you do to me?”

  “I’m making you better, dear.” Mistress reached out to stroke her cheek. “Better than you ever were before.”

  The sound of the Mistress’s voice had grown hypnotic as she captured the woman in her snare of sweet words and gentle touches.

  August rummaged through his front pocket and lit a cigarette as he moved to the bay window across the room. The front door stood ajar to his right, and the hybrid outside hovered near the van. Only a sliver of the moon lit the sky as he waited for his mistress to finish making the first of many for the night. The soft whimpers and weak protests grew muddled behind him, and finally the girl went quiet. After a moment there was a shuddered gasp and Mistress whispered to the girl.

  A solid thump of a body hitting wood echoed through the cabin, and August turned back toward the couch. The girl lay on the floor, her breathing shallow and uneven.

  He flicked the cigarette out the door, scooped up the girl, and carried her out to the van. One of his Primes hovered near it, waiting. It was more misshapen than some of the others and a little twitchy too. It stared down at the unconscious soon-to-be hybrid and reached out to touch her.

  “Stop that! Make yourself useful and grab some blankets for the new ones.” August batted the hybrid’s hand away and waved to toward the cabin.

  The hybrid rushed around toward the back of the cabin and disappeared. At least it knew better than to use the front door.

  He glanced down at the female, shut the van doors, and went to go get the next one from the basement. One at a time, he filled the van with the unconscious newly made. It would take the group a few days to recover and finish their change. They would never be human again, or shifter or Nephilim. They would be… something else.

  With the final one loaded into the van, the hybrid tucked blankets around the sleeper.

  August shot him a hard look, and the hybrid scrambled up to the driver’s seat. He shook his head and shut the doors.

  “Get to the house,” he said.
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br />   The van roared to life, and he watched the vehicle pull away to take them to their new home to be trained properly. They would have time to adapt to their new selves. He stepped back into the cabin as Mistress adjusted herself in her thin robe. A few spots of blood stained the satin pink, and her cherub face looked tired and strained but otherwise fine.

  “You haven’t said a word all evening,” Mistress said.

  “I have nothing to say.”

  “How’s your mate?” Mistress asked.

  August touched the weave that bound him to his pack. He found his mate, Valerie, and the same steady sense of her he had felt for the past few months. “Fine.”

  “Good,” Mistress said. “We wouldn’t want her to lose another cub.”

  August said nothing, and he tried desperately to keep his thoughts from wandering and worry from showing.

  Out of all the cubs his mate tried to carry, only one survived, and Colin was… imperfect. The only thing that saved him was the fact he was alpha. If he hadn’t been born alpha, his mistress would have disposed of him.

  Mistress’s patience, however, had run dry when it came to his mate. And during his last attempt to smooth things over, Mistress vowed Valerie would not be given any more chances. If she lost this cub, there was nothing he could do to help her. It didn’t matter whose fault it was.

  Despite his best attempts to keep his feelings deep, the twinge in his chest was enough for Mistress to raise her head and turn those haunting black eyes on him. He looked out the window, hoping to find something to alter his thoughts, but knew it was already too late.

  “You’re worried about what’s to come, aren’t you?” Mistress said softly.

  August nodded quickly, thankful she hadn’t found the focus of his worries. But the future was indeed another worry. Not just with his mate and pack, but her plan in general. Everything was almost ready now. After years of listening to her plans, years of trying to make them come to pass, they were so close to being ready.

  “Come here,” she said and patted the couch beside her.

  He strode across the room and sat down. She slid her tiny body on top of his, straddling him. He wrapped his arms around her and laid his head on her chest.

  She ran her fingers through his hair. “We’re almost there, my pet,” she said.

  “Does it have to be like this?” August asked softly.

  “Are you doubting me now?”

  “No.”

  “Oh, my poor boy, you still have feelings, don’t you? You need to cut these ties. They aren’t good for you.”

  She was right. The more he felt, the more he ached, and he was tired of hurting.

  She kissed him and ran her lips down his neck. Closing his eyes, he winced as her teeth grazed his neck and shoulder before she bit deep.

  His claws twitched, and he fought to keep them retracted as she drank. She pulled away after a moment and took his face in her hands.

  “Talk to me, pet.”

  “I don’t know if I can do what you need me to do,” he admitted.

  “You can. I have faith in you.”

  August looked down at his shirt and watched her nimble fingers play with a button. Their army was almost ready. She had drawn in her Nephilim and the strays were finally falling into line. She had even taken a few human slaves into her fold for their knowledge, but there was so much that could go wrong. He wasn’t what she wanted him to be yet. He wasn’t sure how to be. He tried so hard to be what she wanted, but it never seemed to stick.

  “But what if I can’t?” His voice was barely a whisper between them.

  She grabbed his jaw and jerked him up to look at her. “You will do as you’re told, won’t you?”

  He nodded. “Always.”

  “That’s a good boy.” She smiled before planting a kiss on his lips. She smelled like his blood. Like she was part of him, and he was a part of her. It was an oddly comforting feeling and filled him with a sense of purpose.

  The black faded, and gentle blue eyes replaced them. She didn’t look upset, but her small brows wrinkled with worry. “Take me home, August. I think we need some special time together, don’t you?”

  He bit back a shudder. He should never have said anything. Then again, maybe it was better this way. The pain would be intense, but then it would fade and he would be exactly as she needed him to be, at least for a while.

  He lifted her into his arms and carried her outside to the waiting car. William, his top heavy, was waiting for him. Blond curls framed his hard-angled face as he scanned the quiet countryside. He glanced at them and climbed into the driver’s seat.

  August tucked a light blanket around his mistress and made sure she was comfortable before slipping into the front seat beside William.

  “Home?” William asked.

  “Yes.”

  Mistress drifted off to sleep within minutes, and August’s mind cleared considerably. When she was too close and alert, things got fuzzy.

  “Why did we make females this time around?” William asked.

  August shook his head. “The Mistress likes them for personal use. She needs some new servants. The males in this batch are nice and strong but a bit independent. Some of them might need to be broken a few times before serious training can begin.”

  “Want me to put them in the pits for a while, then?”

  “That should work. Let the older and wiser hybrids teach them their place. There’s one, though, the young, green-eyed male. He seemed to take to the change far better than most. I think he’ll end up Prime. He needs to be taken special care of.”

  “All right, if he’s not too wily, I can put him in the barracks after a week or so. The others can stew a bit longer.”

  “It might be his age. I’d like to try to figure out what makes a Prime so I can weed them out early. Sometimes it doesn’t show up for a few weeks.”

  William nodded. “I’ll try to keep a closer eye on the new bloods. We could really use more Primes.”

  August hummed his agreement, and William reached into a pouch behind the backseat and pulled out a bottle of juice. “Here.”

  August smiled and touched the blood drying on his neck before taking the bottle. William always took care of him. An alpha couldn’t wish for a better top heavy.

  William had been with him for years. Since he was still a cub. William was a young heavy at the time, found by Mistress to help train and care for him. William had been his entire pack before he was strong enough to have a full pack of his own.

  “Some things are going to have to change soon, William,” August said and took a long drink from the bottle.

  “Whatever you need, Alpha,” William said softly.

  “It won’t be easy.”

  “Nothing ever is,” William said.

  August stared out over the rolling hills and patches of dense woods as they headed for home. William was right. Nothing ever was.

  William drove them in silence, and they hit the highway a few minutes later. August was tired and closed his eyes. He doubted he could sleep. He rarely slept these days, but he needed some rest at least.

  “Alpha,” William called after a long moment.

  “Yeah?” August asked.

  “Shouldn’t we be catching up with the van by now?”

  August sat up suddenly in his seat and scanned the highway. Reaching out with his sense, he tried to find the hybrid driving the van through the weave, but they were so weakly tied to him it was hard.

  He found the bastard. A twitch at the edge of his sense like an itch. He was half-panicked and scared. Running with the damn newly made. “Fuck,” August growled. “He’s running.”

  “With the new batch?”

  August concentrated, fighting to grab and hold the sense of the little bastard. “West. He’s heading for Boulder.”

  He pulled out his phone and called home. They needed to find him and get the new batch back before he reached Colorado. They couldn’t afford to tip off the packs early.

 
And to Boulder of all places. Did he think Dante could help him? That was a laughable thought. Dante wouldn’t even be able to help himself soon enough.

  Fucking Primes. When he got his claws into this one, he was going to skin him alive.

  2. Homecoming

  GEORGE SMILED as he spied the local strays trying to keep their distance and keep an eye on him at the same time. Cautious little glances from across the street as if trying hard not to get close enough to piss him off and still be able to report to the local alpha. He wasn’t worried about Alpha Dante’s strays. They kept out of trouble, and if they didn’t, he was sure it would be taken care of. He wasn’t really needed here, which was good. Sort of.

  He hadn’t been around for a few years, but he had missed the mountains while he was gone. The fresh air, the trees, he even missed the winters and the feet of snow. The desert didn’t have any of that. Shrubs, that’s what the desert had. Lots of dirt and tons of things with thorns, and the things they called trees were laughable.

  The city streets were a lazy sort of busy. The summer heat was starting to warm the city, but after the desert, it was a comfortable heat.

  He strolled through the streets and found his way to the residential area. Stopping in front of a small yellow house, he bit his lip. He wasn’t quite sure if he should do this or not. It had been four years since his last visit. Since he had even been in the city. Things had changed so much. He had changed.

  Taking a deep breath, he walked up the cracked concrete path and climbed the porch stairs.

  He fought back a moment of hesitation and knocked on the door. It took some time, but he could hear the shuffling of feet on the other side before the door finally opened. A plump little woman answered. Lines creased her dark eyes, and shadows had grown deeper than he remembered, her hair more gray now than brown.

  “Yes?” she asked.

  “Hello, Mrs. Sawyer.”

  The woman blinked at him a couple of times, and her face spread into a wide grin. “Oh my God, Georgie!” she gasped and threw her arms around his neck. “I barely recognized you!” She pulled him into the house with a chuckle. “Boy, you grew up. A little taller and your hair is so much shorter. I like it. You can see your face now instead of it all hanging in your eyes.” She urged him toward the couch. “Nathan will be so happy to see you.”

 

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