by Kim Dare
Bennett was in the courtyard, making his way towards the house, just as Alfred emerged through the doorway. He said something, but Alfred didn’t really hear it. The world before him was flooded with tears, but that didn’t matter. He didn’t care where he was going, as long as it was as far away from Caden as he could get.
* * * *
“Would anyone like to tell me what the hell that was all about?” Marsdon demanded as a stunned silence settled over the kitchen.
Caden barely even registered the question. All he could do was stare at the door Alfred had run through, unable to bring a single word to his lips in order to frame an answer.
“Caden?” Gunnar’s voice tugged at the edge of his consciousness, but even that failed to rouse him from his stupor right then.
Alfred thought that he was nothing more than a—?
Big, strong hands landed on Caden’s shoulders. He was turned forcibly away from the kitchen door and made to face his brother.
Gunnar glared down at him. His expression was angry, but he was nowhere near as furious as Alfred had been. And Caden knew his brother well enough to be able to see that beneath all of Gunnar’s anger was a hell of a lot of concern. He hadn’t seen any hint of that in Alfred’s eyes—all he’d sensed in Alfred’s scent was hatred.
“I…” Caden couldn’t think of any other words to add to that one, lonely little syllable.
Alfred had all the potential in the world to be a good wolf, to be the kind of man any shifter would be proud to call his mate. But it had never occurred to Caden that a wolf with so much potential wouldn’t want to be mated to someone whose main talent lay in fluttering his eyelashes.
He swallowed rapidly, trying to make his throat work, even if his brain wouldn’t. Looking up, he saw everyone staring at him. “He didn’t mean it,” he whispered. Alfred couldn’t have meant it. Could he?
Lifting a hand, Caden shook off his brother’s touch and pushed his fingers through his hair. There was no mud to stop them now. If Alfred had wanted him when he looked like a muddy little mongrel, it stood to reason that he must still want him when he was all clean and pretty. “He’s probably just having a bad day and—”
“Don’t stand up for the little bastard!” Gunnar growled.
Caden quickly lifted his gaze and met the beta’s eyes. “It’s not all his fault.”
“Then whose fault is it?” someone asked, very calmly, from behind them.
Caden turned towards his alphas. Bennett was at Marsdon’s side now. His words sounded like an honest question, but the answer was far too dangerous to say out loud.
Even with panic swirling through his veins and the possibility of Alfred not wanting to be mated to anyone who only had a pretty face to recommend them hanging over his head, Caden knew it was something that simply wasn’t said. Not by wolves. Not within a pack.
“Yours.”
And the word was out, hanging in the air between them. It was too late for Caden to snatch it back, and as a damn near deafening silence settled over them, he found he didn’t want to. Who cared how dangerous anything was when the worst had already happened?
“What did you say?” Marsdon snapped, stepping forward and blocking Caden’s view of the other alpha.
“Not Bennett in particular,” Caden corrected, as he realised what Marsdon thought. “All of you—all of us. The entire pack is to blame for the way Alfred acts.”
Marsdon folded his arms across his chest as he squared his stance. “Gunnar’s right—trying to make excuses for him and blaming everyone except him every time he screws up isn’t going to do—”
“Don’t you mean if?” Caden asked, his voice perfectly calm and controlled now that there was no going back. He hadn’t meant to have the conversation like this. Hell, he’d hoped he could have got away with never needing to have it at all. But, if it was happening, he knew he had to make sure it happened right—he had to give Alfred that much of a fighting chance.
Whatever was destined to happen between them, whatever Alfred really thought of him, he owed any wolf he loved that much.
Marsdon frowned. “What?”
“Don’t you mean if he screws up rather than when?” Caden asked again. “Is it really fair on him that you always assume he’s going to screw up right from the start? Doesn’t that just tempt fate and make it all the more likely he’ll do something wrong?”
Bennett stepped forward before Marsdon could say anything, and laid his hand gently on his mate’s arm. “I think we’d best sit down. This sounds like it’ll take a while.” He moved forward and pointedly took a seat at one end of the long pine table. Marsdon silently claimed the seat next to him.
Feeling very much like he was crossing quicksand, Caden sat next to his brother, opposite the alphas. Folding his hands neatly on the table, Caden stared down at them for a long time, trying to find the best possible words.
“Have you ever wondered why Alfred has never settled into your pack very well?” he finally asked.
“Because he’s a selfish little brat who couldn’t care less about anyone but himself,” Marsdon suggested. “Because he’d rather stir up trouble than be a useful member of anyone’s pack.” The alpha was sitting back in his chair, his arms folded across his chest, and didn’t appear to be the least interested in hearing anything that contradicted that view.
“Could any wolf really be happy living that way?” Caden asked, forcing himself to keep every word polite and softly spoken, making sure his body language screamed out that he wasn’t trying to challenge anyone. “Would any wolf really want that?”
“No, no wolf would want that,” Bennett said. “But if no one tells us anything else, that’s the only thing we can believe.” He leant forward, all his attention on the conversation. At least one of the alphas seemed willing to listen.
Caden took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I know it’s usually obvious what rank a wolf is most suited to from the time he’s a little pup.”
“Oh?” Marsdon said.
“But what if someone made a mistake? Or what if there are occasions when something happens to make the alphas of a pack wonder if someone’s first impressions of a pup weren’t entirely right?” Caden said to his neatly clasped hands. His knuckles were slowly turning white as he struggled to push forward. He was pretty sure he’d cut off all the circulation to the fingers on his left hand. They were starting to feel numb.
“If you have something to say, say it,” Marsdon snapped. “But I’m telling you now, if you’ve acquired Alfred’s habit for trying to stir up trouble then—”
“I think you’ve assigned Alfred the wrong rank among the gammas in your pack,” Caden blurted out.
The challenge should have made Marsdon launch himself to his feet in fury. Caden was braced for it, willing to receive the full force of the other wolf’s anger, even while nerves made him sure he was going to throw up long before the end of the conversation.
There was no furious howl. The other wolf merely tilted his head to the side and considered him in silence for several moments.
Caden risked a brief glance up and met Marsdon’s eyes. From there, he turned to Bennett. When he saw the complete lack of emotion in his other alpha’s gaze, Caden suddenly realised what they had both thought he was going to say.
“I know you’re a good alpha,” Caden said to Bennett. “I’ve never doubted that. You’re both good alphas, good wolves. But if someone forced you to live in another rank, maybe you wouldn’t be such good wolves. Perhaps, if there was something that made you doubt you were living out your right role, you’d be more like Alfred. Maybe you’d find there was something that screamed inside you, making you desperate to rock the boat hard enough that you might find yourself in a different place when everything settled after the storm.”
“You think that’s what Alfred has been trying to do?” Bennett asked.
“I think he’s spent his whole life feeling as if he’s out of place, as if he can’t settle into his pack, or even
into his own skin, because every wolf around him has been pushing him to be something he’s not. Everyone assumes he’s not that different to our omega—that he should be treated much the same as Talbot.”
“He’s nothing like Talbot !” Gunnar snapped to Caden’s left.
“You’re right, he’s nothing like our omega,” Caden said, and barely missed a beat before he pushed on. “He’s much more like our beta.”
“What?”
Caden hadn’t heard his brother’s voice reach that pitch since it had first broken and descended into its habitual deep growl. The beta launched himself to his feet. His chair tumbled back and clattered onto the tiles behind him.
“If Talbot was pushed into a different role, he’d worry and fret and struggle to please the people around him, even though it hurt him in a million different ways,” Caden said, shoving back his own chair and squaring off against his brother without the slightest hesitation. “But if you were forced into a lower place in the hierarchy, we all know you’d give the whole world hell until you got moved to where you wanted to be. Tell me, who do you think Alfred is more like?”
“Sit down, both of you.”
Caden glanced towards Marsdon out of the corner of his eye.
“If I have to get to my feet in order to make you both sit down and stop acting like silly little children…” the alpha warned.
Caden slowly did as he was told. The conversation was far too important to derail just because his brother was a jerk. Gunnar would still be there, and no doubt he’d still be a jerk, tomorrow. He could be dealt with then.
Gunnar picked up his chair and sat back down with a huff.
“You believe that Alfred might flourish if he was moved up the ranks among the gammas?” Bennett asked.
Caden nodded.
“Even without any…bribery taking place?” the alpha asked, quite gently.
“Alfred was angry—he lashed out.” Caden wasn’t entirely sure who he was trying to convince. Right then, a pretty face and a good technique didn’t seem to count for a lot.
“And you still wish to be mated to a wolf who is inclined to lash out that way?”
Caden’s lips twisted into a slight smile. “When he realises that he outranks me, he’ll stop.” He made sure all the other wolves saw his confidence in that fact, even if it wasn’t built on an entirely solid foundation.
“And if he doesn’t?” Marsdon cut in.
“Then…”
Caden’s gaze dropped to Marsdon’s forearm and the mark cut into the skin there. It was a huge risk to take. But if it was the only way to make his point, then…
“As things stand, I don’t trust him to reach out and touch the back of my neck. I know that will change when our respective ranks change, but if for some reason it doesn’t, then we’ll have to…find a way to live our lives just with me reaching out for his forearm?” he suggested.
For several minutes the whole world seemed to wait and watch the alphas, to see what their reaction would be. Caden could hear his own heart pounding so loudly in his ears he was sure everyone else in the room had to be able to hear it too, but no one mentioned the racket.
It wasn’t as if every wolf in the pack didn’t know what it meant when Bennett reached out and touched the scar on his mate’s arm, or what Bennett was offering Marsdon when he did that. Everyone knew there would soon be howls of pleasure emanating from the barn or the alphas’ bedroom.
And when Marsdon touched the scar on the back of Bennett’s neck, Caden had no doubt that he was asking his mate to submit to him, to hand over control to him for a little while, that Marsdon was telling his mate what he needed from him when he offered him that particular caress.
“That has nothing to do with a wolf’s place in the pack,” Marsdon said, each word enunciated very carefully.
Caden ignored him in favour of meeting Bennett’s eyes and holding them. “Would you let Marsdon reach for the back of your neck if he wasn’t secure in his place in the pack?”
“That’s not the same—”
Marsdon stopped short when Bennett held up a hand. “No,” he admitted. “I wouldn’t.”
Caden held his breath.
“I think I understand what you’re trying to say.”
“But—” Marsdon began.
“He’s not insulting me,” Bennett cut in, before the other alpha had time to build up any sort of momentum. “He’s not insulting anyone.” Still holding Caden’s eyes, he nodded slowly. “I think it’s time someone went to fetch Alfred.”
Gunnar immediately pushed back his chair. “I’ll get him.”
“Don’t get into an argument with him, but don’t take no for an answer when you tell him he’s to come home either,” Bennett commanded, as Gunnar made his way to the kitchen door.
The beta nodded his understanding. Unless Caden was very much mistaken, his brother was supremely glad the mushy stuff had now been taken care of and he could get back to doing the kind of thing he did best.
As the door closed behind the beta, Caden was left alone with the alphas, the sole focus of their attention.
“You’re very observant,” Bennett said.
Caden made no reply.
“And now,” Bennett went on, “I think both your alphas would like to know exactly what you’ve observed.”
Quickly looking from Bennett to Marsdon and back again, Caden weighed up his options. “I’ve noticed the scars mean a lot to you,” he offered as an opening bid.
“Yes,” Bennett allowed, and nodded for him to continue.
“I think, when you touch the scar on Marsdon’s arm, you’re asking him to take control for a while, telling him that you’d like to follow his lead the next time you mate.”
Neither alpha moved nor spoke.
“And when he touches the scar on your neck, he’s asking for you to let him take control that way.”
The room remained still and silent.
“I don’t know what signals you use when you want to take control of Marsdon or he wants to give up control to you,” Caden said. The moments the words hit the air, he knew he had stumbled on exactly the right thing to say, and it wasn’t exactly a lie, there was no need to add he was pretty sure such a gesture had never been used.
Bennett smiled slightly. “I think we all know those signals don’t exist.”
“Bennett!” Marsdon wasn’t smiling at all.
“It’s not a problem,” Bennett told his mate. “Caden’s never had any intention of questioning my ability to lead this pack, have you?”
Caden shook his head. “I have no doubt you’re an alpha. But…I think you’re an alpha who knows how much it can hurt when something makes you doubt where you belong in a pack.”
Bennett looked down. “If you’re right about this, Alfred deserves all our sympathy.”
“Yes,” Caden agreed.
“And if you’re wrong?” Marsdon asked.
Caden dropped his gaze. The answer was obvious, although he found it impossible to admit it out loud. If he was wrong, he was going to be screwed—and not in the way he’d been hoping for.
* * * *
“Put me down, you bastard!” Alfred did his best to shout the words, but it wasn’t easy while Gunnar’s shoulder seemed to be determined to knock the air out of his lungs every time the beta took a step.
“Careful, brat, those are Caden’s parents you’re questioning the morals of, too,” Gunnar warned as he marched on.
Every step bounced Alfred on his shoulder. For someone who seemed to be covered in muscle, he was incredibly bony. The other wolf’s grip on him wasn’t painful as such, but it was immovable as hell. His biceps stayed locked over the back of Alfred’s legs no matter what he did.
Alfred hit against Gunnar’s back and kicked out as hard as he could. Nothing made the damnedest bit of difference.
Looking around as best he could while hoisted over the other wolf’s shoulder, he realised they were making their way back to the farmhouse. “Let me go!”
Gunnar simply ignored him and held more tightly to his legs, preventing Alfred’s kicks landing hard enough to do any real damage.
Alfred’s upside-down view of the courtyard, then the kitchen, suddenly span. He was deposited unceremoniously onto the cold tiles in the middle of the kitchen floor. Glaring up at Gunnar, Alfred opened his mouth to hurl another insult at him.
His eyes fell on Caden instead. Every thought, every word, fled from Alfred’s head. He closed his mouth and ground his teeth together as fresh anger flooded through him.
“Good of you to join us,” Marsdon said.
Alfred scrambled to his feet and turned to face the alpha.
“Save it for the challenge ring,” the older wolf advised, before Alfred could even part his lips.
“What?” The single word hung in the air, small and lonely as Alfred’s mind reeled.
“No! This isn’t what—” Caden rushed out.
Alfred glanced in his direction just in time to see Marsdon silence him with a look.
“But,” Caden tried again.
“You were right,” Marsdon informed the other gamma, before turning back to Alfred. “It’s time you found your rightful place in the pack—whatever that might be.”
For once, Alfred failed to see the usual anger spinning in the other wolf’s eyes. Marsdon looked almost…curious? But that wasn’t important.
“You’re throwing me out of the pack…” Alfred took a step back, cursing himself for his stupidity in being surprised, in letting his shock creep into his words.
He’d known from the start that he didn’t really belong there, that he didn’t fit into Marsdon and Bennett’s pack the way all the other wolves did. He should have expected this. He should have been ready for it.
Perhaps if he had anticipated it, his heart wouldn’t have broken a little at the sudden realisation he was about to find himself all alone in the world, without a pack. Even a pack who felt nothing but contempt for him was better than that. And Caden was—