by Joyce, T. S.
Chapter Nineteen
When Elyse blasted through the final grove of trees and into the clearing in front of the homestead, Ian was sitting on the porch. His eyes reflected strangely in the headlights as she pulled around and parked the truck.
Her anger had grown into an inferno on the forty-five minute drive back. No longer was she in oh-woe-is-me mode. She was in punch-everything mode. Ian had lied about so much, then she’d been choked, threatened, and felt up by a fucking werewolf, and now her rage was infinite.
Pursing her lips over the urge to curse him out immediately, she grabbed the knife and the note and stomped toward him. Miki bounced around her legs and yipped a puppy greeting.
Ian had a lantern hung from a peg over the porch stairs, so she could see just fine when his eyes narrowed on her knife. Then he lowered his gaze back to the half-plucked duck in his hands and went back to ripping feathers from the breast. He had a small pile of the water fowl beside him and a bucket for the feathers a couple stairs below, between his knees. Their first major fight and what did she do? Weep and chug whiskey. Of course Ian had gone and done something productive, such as hunt down a couple week’s worth of meals. Pissed at the world, she kicked a cloud of dirt into the air and started jacking up the water pump handle.
“Who did you stab?” he asked conversationally.
“A werewolf.”
The sound of plucking stopped, but she didn’t look at him. Instead, she washed the blade off and contemplated which question, out of the billion rattling around in her brain, she would ask him first.
“No, you know what. I’m not going to ask questions right now. Why don’t you just tell me everything so I don’t have to decipher your infinite mysteries, Ian?”
“Okay. Why don’t you come sit beside me?”
“I feel like standing.” So I don’t punch you in the face.
Nodding, Ian reached behind him and handed her a large, brown envelope. “This was waiting for me at my den on Afognak when I woke up from hibernation this past spring.”
“What is it?” she asked, moving closer to take it from his hand. When she did, there was a bloody thumbprint from where he’d held it.
Ian went back to plucking. “It’s a kill order for Cole McCall. I’m not just a bear shifter, Elyse. I’m what shifters call an enforcer. All bears take that title because we’re the biggest of the predator shifters. My brothers have taken jobs like this, too.”
“Are you paid to assassinate people?”
Ian huffed and lifted his narrow gaze to her. “Do you really think so low of me?”
“I don’t know what to think, Ian.”
“No, I don’t get paid, and it’s not called assassinating. It’s called ‘putting them down.’”
“Like animals.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because they are animals.”
“Cole was a little crazy, but he wasn’t—”
“He was. You don’t need me shit-talking your ex though, Elyse. I can see how little you trust me. That folder contains most of your answers.”
Elyse stomped up the stairs, then dragged a rocking chair loudly across the porch to the ring of soft, glowing light. Then she pulled out the stack of paperwork from the envelope and read silently, her heart breaking with every word. It was a history on Cole—a list of all the things he’d done to call attention to himself. Some of them she’d known, but the last several pages made her sick to her stomach. There were photos of two trappers who had been attacked by a wolf. One had survived and one had not, and whoever had put together the file for Cole had included the after pictures. It was the next two pictures that drew a horrified gasp from her lips. One was a posed school picture of a little girl. Dark hair and dark eyes. Alaska Native perhaps. She had a snaggle-toothed smile. The photograph that followed was of the little girl in a hospital bed.
Elyse had read about this wolf attack in the newspaper. Her doctors thought the girl would make it for a while, but she hadn’t.
“Cole did this?” Her voice was no better than a wisp of air.
Ian nodded his head and set the naked bird down beside him, then picked up the next to pluck. “The McCalls all go crazy. It’s in their blood. Most of them are smart enough to recognize their expiration date and not involve a mate, but Cole, for whatever reason, felt like taking you down with him at the end.”
“Was this all that was in the file?”
Ian shook his head, his back to her as his body jerked with every rip of the feathers. “There was one last thing.” Leaning to the side, he reached in his back pocket and pulled out a folded photograph.
When she opened it, she found herself staring at the camera with a hollow look. Someone had photographed her from the woods near the garden. She almost didn’t recognize herself, as skinny as she was. Dark circles hung from under her eyes, and her lips were chapped. This picture had been taken right after she’d kicked Cole out of the house. Her lip was still split.
“Why was this in your pocket?”
“Because I fell in love with you from that picture. I carry it everywhere.” When he cast her a glance over his shoulder, his eyes pooled with such deep vulnerability. “It can’t touch the real thing, seeing you in person, but I like the feeling that you’re always close. My bear chose you before I even met you.”
“So you being here isn’t some way to get rid of your guilt over killing Cole?”
“Fuck, woman, is that what you think? I called you, do you remember?”
“When?”
“At the beginning of the warm season I called you asking where Cole was.”
Elyse’s mouth fell open, and she rocked back against the chair. “I remember. I felt better, more hopeful after I talked to you. You said I could call you if I needed anything.”
“And I meant it. I would’ve dropped everything and helped if you ever called. I waited, hoping you would. Not hoping that you needed me, but to hear your voice again. Cole knew I was coming. He didn’t even try to hide from me. He told me he was hoping I got to him in time because his wolf wanted you.”
“Wanted me how?”
“He said he’d given the wolf that little girl to buy him time so he wouldn’t come back here.”
“He wanted to kill me?”
“His wolf did, Elyse. You have to understand. Cole wasn’t right. The McCalls have bad bloodlines. They have for centuries. Most werewolves are okay, but the McCalls always end up losing control of their animals.”
“And you put them down.”
Ian went back to plucking as he darkly said, “Sometimes me. Sometimes my brothers. Cole didn’t deserve it, but I gave him an honorable death. He asked me to give you the note, and I told him I would.”
“An honorable death. Tell me.”
“Elyse,” Ian warned.
“Tell me, Ian.”
He sighed and dropped the duck into the pile, then lifted his jacket and sweater out of the way, exposing the worst of his scars across his ribcage.
“That was Cole’s doing?”
“Nah, that was his wolf’s doing. It was a fight to the death, animal versus animal. His wolf knew he was beat, so he attacked while I was Changing. I couldn’t do anything as he ripped into me, but I can’t really blame him. He didn’t deserve to live, but he still wanted to. Survival is a powerful instinct, even for the broken. This is the gig, Elyse. If a shifter goes wild and wages war on humans, or if they take innocent lives and threaten to expose us, I get the order to put them down.”
Elyse swallowed hard at the thought of a wolf tearing into Ian while he was mid-Change. Of the damage his body had sustained to keep the awful scars that he did. “Why did you wait so long to come find me to give me the note?”
“Because I knew I wouldn’t want to leave if I saw you. If I talked to you in person, I knew I’d want you. I just meant to give you the letter and say sorry and leave, but you were determined to hire a husband, and dammit, Elyse, you were standing there, so fucking beautiful, offering me e
verything I hadn’t known I wanted, and I was weak. I couldn’t say no. Every instinct in my body screamed that I could take care of you where Cole had failed. I could provide for you and make you stronger. I could make it so you never came out of another winter so skinny. And as time went on and I got to know you better, I got terrified of losing you. I’ve wanted to tell you about Cole a million times. I’ve laid awake after you’ve gone to sleep just thinking about it. The thought of losing you was so painful. No, I’m not here out of guilt. I’m here because I fucking need you more than the air I breathe. I love you more than I’ve loved anything. Any life without you would be empty. I told you before, and I meant it. You weren’t ever supposed to be Cole’s mate. You’ve always felt like mine.”
Elyse clutched the picture of herself. This wasn’t the black and white he-killed-my-ex scenario she’d assumed. This was about a different set of rules for shifters to follow, about Ian putting down someone who was dangerous and who’d taken innocent lives. She thought about the trapper and the little girl. About their families, who would forever be changed for the worse because of Cole’s actions.
Life out here required sacrifice. No one made it without getting blood on their hands. Taking life, like those of the ducks on the porch stair, was a part of living. It was a cycle. Cole had become a kink in the chain and disrupted the balance, and Ian drawing out his bear and fighting Cole to the death wasn’t the betrayal she’d thought. He’d avenged the people Cole had killed. He’d given justice to their families. Ian Silver had placed himself between Cole’s dark intentions and the rest of the world and taken scars upon his body to keep her and everyone else safe from that werewolf’s descent into madness.
And he’d saved her in the process.
She didn’t even want to imagine what Cole would’ve done to her if left to his own devices. If she read his letter again now, every sentence he’d written would have a different meaning.
Ian had gone back to plucking, but Elyse slid off the chair and squatted down behind him. Slowly, she rested her cheek against his back and wrapped her arms around his middle.
With a long sigh of relief, the tension left Ian’s body, and he relaxed under her. He angled his head back toward her as if he wanted to be even closer. “I’m sorry.”
“Were you really going to tell me everything when we went to Afognak tomorrow?”
“Yeah. I had it all planned out. Afognak has always been home to me. Miller found the cave I hibernate in. I’d built a cabin inside, but he burned it to ashes.”
“Oh, Ian.”
“It’s fine. I was going to show you and bring the folder and tell you everything—let you see all of me. I couldn’t have gone to sleep for the winter without coming clean. It’s part of why I wanted you to wait to marry me until you’d been with me through the cold season. I want your eyes wide open when you take my last name.”
Her eyes felt puffy, and she had a headache from crying so much today, but some of the tension had left her shoulders as well. She hugged him tighter, then released him and sat down on the stair. Pulling a duck into her lap, she began to work in silence beside him.
And for a while, they just were. It wasn’t until she was working on the last duck that he turned to her and asked, “Are you going to tell me who bruised your neck?”
She swallowed against the lingering ache there. “Miller. He came in the bar drunk. I know how Cole was at the end, and his brother is headed down the same path, Ian. Maybe he’ll be worse. I don’t know. He seems to think that mark Cole gave me makes me a McCall claim.”
A snarl ripped from Ian. “You’re not. You’re mine.”
“I know I am.” No longer able to shoulder what had happened in the bar, she murmured, “Miller choked me, and I put the blade against his throat. Then the bartender, Eric…well, he put a gun to Miller’s head and got me breathing proper again.” She dragged her gaze to Ian and rested her elbows on her knees with the limp, half-plucked bird hanging from her hands. “Ian, he’s going to bring us trouble.”
“That’s what they do, Elyse.” Ian’s eyes turned fierce, darkening like storm clouds. “The McCalls always bring trouble.”
Chapter Twenty
Ian opened his eyes to the pitch blackness. He blinked rapidly a couple of times, trying to remember where he was. The bed was as unfamiliar as the room, and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, everything that had happened yesterday crashed over him like stormy ocean waves.
Elyse had forgiven him for hiding the truth, but he would have to work to earn her trust back. Tonight, he was sleeping in the guest room in an effort to give her space to process all he’d kept from her. It had taken him forever to fall asleep, and apparently he was still restless without his mate in his arms because he was awake again, only—he looked at his watch—two hours after he’d gone to sleep.
The soft clink of metal sounded from the other side of the house near Elyse’s bedroom. Miki let off a low growl. Ian slipped out of bed and padded out of the guest room and through the den, careful to miss the creaky boards.
He hadn’t just woken up restless. Something had his hairs raised on end, and by the time he reached Elyse’s room, he could smell it—the stink of a werewolf. Elyse was lying in bed on her side, facing him, fast asleep and unbothered, but Miki was looking out her bedroom window, his dark lips curled up, exposing a row of needle-sharp puppy teeth. Little brawler.
Ian heard it again. Metal on metal. Mother-fuckin’ Miller was trying to steal from Elyse.
Ian’s rage started in his middle, unfurling like a poison as it filled him. Gritting his teeth, he swallowed down a growl and padded out the front door because it was a silent opener. The air nipped at his bare chest as he slunk silently around the cabin. A figure stood beside the freezer, shoving a small key into the padlock with a muttered curse.
If he hadn’t recognized Miller’s voice, he sure as shit would’ve recognized the pungent aroma of unwashed body and wet dog.
Ian leaned against the log wall. “Your little thief key don’t work anymore, McCall.”
Miller started and spun, his eyes blazing white. “S-Silver.” He cocked his head and straightened his spine from the defensive crouch he’d sunk into. A deep frown making him even uglier, he asked, “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Inside, Miki went mad, barking in a much deeper voice than the pup had ever used before.
Ian offered him a dead smile. “My territory now. I’d suggest you get the fuck off it before I rip your throat through that hideous mouth-hole of yours.”
“Your territory.” Miller took a step back and leaned on the padlocked deep freeze he’d been trying to rob. He slid a slit-eyed gaze to Elyse’s bedroom window, then back to Ian. “Your territory? I think you’re lost. See, this is wolf territory, along with that pretty little bitch inside.”
Ian didn’t hide the snarl in his throat now. Miller should see his death coming. “She chose me.”
“Bull—”
Ian lunged, grabbed the back of his head, and slammed it against the edge of the freezer so fast Miller couldn’t even finish the curse. He shoved his bowed body onto the dirt and gritted out, “You laid a hand on her today. Choked her, so I heard.”
Miller was crawling away, one hand gripping his forehead as dark streams dripped through his fingers. “She’s marked.”
“By me now. Your shit brother’s mark is covered up, and even if it wasn’t, even if she bore his scar, that wouldn’t make her yours or any other McCall’s, and it wouldn’t justify you stealing her meat.”
“Ian?” Elyse’s voice was high-pitched and scared as she flew around the corner, flashlight beam bouncing across the ground in front of her. When it illuminated Miller, she skidded to a stop, her white nightgown billowing around her knees. “What are you doing here?”
Miller scrambled upward and jammed a finger at Ian. “What’s he doing here? Do you know who he is? Do you know what kind of monster you’re fucking, Elyse?”
The flashlight beam s
hook in Elyse’s hand, but her voice didn’t sound scared at all. It sounded like steel. “The only monster I see here is you. Get off our land.”
“Our land.”
“Yes, our land! You are trespassing on our property, and for what, Miller? To steal from me again? To clean me out because you aren’t man enough to fend for yourself? You’re too lazy to provide for yourself so you have to prey on other people? Well, fuck you. You’re not welcome here, and let’s face it. You never really were.”
“He killed my brother!” Miller screamed. Half of his face was covered in red now, but he was a fast healer. He probably wouldn’t bleed out from the head wound. Pity. “Did you hear me? You’re sleeping with your mate’s murderer, you stupid bitch!”
Elyse’s eyebrows arched primly like she gave exactly zero fucks. “Cole who killed that trapper? Cole who killed that little girl? Cole who cheated on me, stole from me, hurt me, and nearly fucking starved me because he didn’t want to work when he could drain someone who loved him instead? Ian did the world a favor. Your brother was shit. Just. Like. You. Get out of here before my mate kills you.”
Miller rocked back on his heels and looked back and forth between the two of them.
Ian clenched his hands. They tingled to strangle the life out of him, but Clayton hadn’t given the order for Miller, and killing a shifter un-sanctioned was against their laws and would bring punishment on him and Elyse both.
Miller huffed a laugh that echoed through the clearing, followed by an insane giggle that toppled from his lips as he hunched forward. Hands on his knees, he laughed from his belly, louder and louder until the air shook. “You stupid fucks.” Miller spat red, but the crazy smile still lingered on his lips. White eyes, red blood, yellow teeth. “Do you feel that?” Miller inhaled loudly and lowered his voice. “Can you smell it? Winter is almost here, and you,” he murmured, locking his inhuman eyes on Ian, “you’re gonna go to sleep for a long time. I told you I was gonna hunt you slow. I told you I was gonna hurt the people you loved.” He backed toward the woods, step by careful step. “Sleep tight, Silver, ’cause when winter comes, I’ll be hunting your girl.”