by H. D. Gordon
Ryker bent down and kissed me, deeply and slowly, and all thoughts of red flags and confusion left my mind.
I was sure about this. I was sure about him.
“I love you,” I told him, speaking against his lips. It was the first time I’d ever said it, but it felt as though the words had always been there.
Ryker let out a sigh that sounded more relieved than I thought was necessary. “I love you, too,” he replied, “which is why I need to protect you… The other Pack Masters, they won’t like it, but I’ve thought of a way to keep you out of their reach, so that if they were to try and hurt you, they would know that it meant war with the Western Pack.”
I studied his beautiful face, and reached up to run my fingers over the light stubble covering his strong jaw. “What are you talking about?” I asked.
Ryker took my hands into his and kissed the backs of them. My heart skipped several beats. “I love you, Rook, and I want you to be my Mate. I want to make it official in front of everyone, so that the whole world knows you’re mine, and understands the consequences of ever thinking otherwise.”
I felt tears trying to sting my eyes, and smiled past them, tracing the line of his chin. “But… you’re the Pack Master now, and I’m just a Dog.”
“As the Pack Master, I can free you,” Ryker promised. “And as your Mate, I will keep you safe. You’ll want for nothing.”
I almost couldn’t believe the words I was hearing, had never dreamed of such a thing. Was it even possible? To have my freedom and Ryker?
And why did I get the feeling that I had known freedom before, when I could only ever recall being a slave? Why was that stupid red flag waving again? Why was it that the obvious answer to Ryker’s proposal was yes, a hundred times yes, and yet…
He kissed me again, and this time, I groaned shamelessly against his lips, a rather Wolf-like sound escaping me. When he pulled away, I almost cried out at the loss of his touch.
“What do you say, Rook?” Ryker asked. “Will you make me the happiest Wolf alive? Will you sit beside me as I rule the Western Coast and bear and raise my pups? I want you to be my Mate, and be unbreakably bound to me and I to you by moon and magic and blood for as long as we both shall live.”
My hands slipped around the back of his neck and pulled him toward me until his warm body was once again aligned with mine. As he dipped his head to my neck and began to trace circles with his tongue on the sensitive skin there, I turned my head to give him better access, and my gaze caught on the empty goblet.
The goblet that had been filled with that delicious, scarlet wine.
Scarlet was the color of…
What?
What the hell was I missing here? Why did my body insist on one thing while my mind whispered inaudibly about another? I was feeling sort of woozy again, and thought maybe I shouldn’t have had another glass of wine.
But it was too late. The poison had made it into my veins, but even if it hadn’t my gut whispered that this was not actually a choice. My gut insisted that if I refused Ryker’s offer, he would not react well.
So despite the silent protest of that little red flag, my traitorous lips parted and I uttered the word yes.
Ryker lifted his head from where his lips had been traveling slowly down my body, and his blue eyes glittered with hope. “Yes?” he repeated.
I nodded. “Yes, Ryker. I’ll be your Mate.”
32
Ryker retreated immediately from atop me, the loss of his touch leaving me cold.
“I’ll make the arrangements immediately,” he said, and placed a quick kiss on my forehead before heading for the door.
He opened it and revealed the healer he’d called for me.
“Good,” he said to the young female, and pointed at me where I still lay on the bed. “She’s not feeling well. Heal her.” He whispered something to her that I didn’t catch, but my head was too fuzzy to call him out for it.
Ryker offered me one more smile and disappeared from the room, promising that we would be Mated this evening. I thought this was rather abrupt, but didn’t get a chance to say it before he left.
I didn’t understand why a bit of relief flooded me as I watched Ryker exit. I’d been ready to give myself to him, and was disappointed about not getting to finish… Or at least, I thought I was.
I realized the young healer was still standing by the closed door and waiting for instructions.
“You can sit down if you want,” I said.
The girl did a small curtsey. “Thank you,” she mumbled, and pulled the chair by the desk over to the bed where I lay. “What’s ailing you?” she asked.
I tried to pinpoint it and couldn’t. “I don’t know,” I said. “I just feel… off.”
The girl nodded slowly, her smooth face expressionless, but the fear behind her hazel eyes betraying her. She reached into the healer’s case she’d carried in with her and removed a small vial of black liquid. Uncorking it, she handed it over to me.
“Drink that,” she ordered.
I took the vial and sniffed it, pulling my body up to a sitting position with some effort. My brow furrowed as I recognized that there had been a hint of this scent in the wine. I looked at the healer. She was a Wolf of no more than sixteen years, with long brown hair and lovely brown skin. She wore the same clothes made from potato sacks as all the other slaves, and her eyes had the same silent nervousness.
Making no move to drink from the vial, I glanced at the closed door to the room, and got the sudden but certain feeling that there was a Hound on the other side, that there had been one there since I’d arrived here. I reached up and tapped the girl gently on her forehead with two fingers; the universal Wolf signal for a request to speak in her head.
All Wolves could communicate telepathically. It was an evolutionary advantage that allowed us to communicate when we were in our Wolf forms, but consent from both parties was required, the opening of two doors.
The girl shook her head, and the fear that filled her hazel eyes was unmistakable. I felt bad for putting her in this position, but something was wrong here. I could not shake the feeling that I was being duped, that my uncontrollable lust for Ryker was somehow iniquitous.
“Please,” I whispered, and touched the Dog’s collar around my neck, saying to the girl without words that I was not a Hound, that I was a slave, just like her, and I desperately needed her help.
My heart sank when she shook her head and pointed at the vial she’d handed me. With that, she scurried out of the room as fast as her feet would carry her.
I pulled myself up from the bed, put the cork back in the vial, and tucked it underneath the mattress. I wasn’t going to drink whatever that was. Something told me I’d already had too much of it. I moved over to the desk and sniffed at the empty goblet I’d been drinking from. Sure enough, my strong nose detected an underlying scent that matched the one in the vial.
Why had I been so quick to accept Ryker’s advances? And how would he have reacted if I had refused?
The thing about making the Mate’s bond was that the magic was unbreakable. It was a commitment that was absolute, forged in front of the Pack and under the moon. Once Mated, there was no going back, because the two life forces of the Wolves were intertwined irrevocably.
Once upon a time, this was exactly what I’d wanted, though, wasn’t it? What I’d never dared dream for. I’d fallen for Ryker against all my better judgment. I’d never imagined that he would become Pack Master and make me his Mate, never imagined that we could be together.
The only confusing thing was that there seemed to be a gap in my memory. I remembered The Games, where I’d escaped the Arena on the back of a Firedrake, and that same Firedrake had gobbled up Reagan Ramsey in the process, which was why Ryker was now the new West Coast Pack Master… but what had happened after that? Where had I gone? And with whom had I been?
The most disconcerting part of it all was that I wasn’t even sure how much time had passed while I’d been… Whe
rever. I wasn’t sure how I’d gotten here, in this windowless room where the wind whistled around the stones that made up the walls and the door was always closed too swiftly behind whomever entered.
The healer girl. She’d been hiding something. She’d likely been instructed to give me whatever was in that vial. She’d been too scared to even speak to me in my head. And I could’ve sworn that she’d cast me a helpless but sympathetic look before she’d exited the room as though her tail was on fire.
Was I really going to Mate Ryker? I reached up and touched the collar around my neck. It had always been there… Hadn’t it? In order to Mate me, he would have to remove it first, so that the magic of the Mating wasn’t blocked by the magic in the collar. Would he really remove it? Was it true that I could be free? Could I really sit atop the Western Pack alongside him? And, if so, what kind of person would that make me?
A former slave watching over slaves. The idea was absurd.
Before I could grapple too long with this decision (and probe at the question of whether it was actually a decision at all) Ryker returned.
My heart jumped when I set eyes on him, the reaction so strong that the little red flag appeared again in the back of my mind. I clung to that flag while I tried to remain calm about everything that was happening.
Various people began to flood into the room, carrying fabrics and cosmetics meant to make me presentable for the ceremony that would take place as soon as the moon rose.
Ryker left again as the handmaidens he’d summoned dressed me in a long blue gown, combed and curled my hair, and painted my eyes and lips. Kalene returned as well, and I had a hard time recalling my last conversation with her. She sat silently near the desk while the females worked on my appearance, not saying a word and only glancing at me with obvious indifference occasionally.
I didn’t know why she should be so upset with me, why she was being so cold, and so it surprised me when I felt a gentle knock on my mental door. My eyes found Kalene’s across the small space, and she raised her eyebrows so slightly I couldn’t even be sure that she actually did so.
I opened the door to my mind, and her voice flooded in.
“He’s been making you drink a potion,” Kalene said inside my head. “Stop staring at me or these bitches will know we’re communicating.”
I swallowed and set my gaze elsewhere, holding still so that the cosmetics could be applied to my face. “What kind of potion?” I asked.
“A love potion. A powerful one. I heard Madame Rama telling Ryker that it would make you focus on the good feelings you have toward him, and make you forget about anything that would stand in the way of that.”
“The red flag,” I said.
“What?”
“Nothing…” My panic was mounting now. I needed to get a hold of myself.
“What am I supposed to do?” I asked her “If I Mate him, my very biology will change. There’ll be no separating us. Not ever.”
“Yeah, I know,” Kalene replied with deadly seriousness. “That’s why I brought you this.”
Kalene showed me an image of her tucking a small silver dagger into the folds of her clothes before coming here.
My heart skipped a couple beats. “What do you want me to do with that?”
Across the room, Kalene’s dark eyes held mine for a full five seconds. “I want you to avenge Ares and Oren and all of the other poor bastards they burned alive,” she told me, her voice a vicious growl in my head. “I want you to kill that son of a bitch Ryker while the entire Western Coast watches—same as you did Reagan Ramsey…”
I swallowed, staring at her long after she stopped looking at me. I’d forgotten about Oren and Ares completely. A strong potion, indeed. I wondered how long the effects of it would last, but knew Ryker only needed it to last until after the Mating ceremony.
After that, he would hold an even more permanent control over me than the collar could ever offer.
“Tonight, you have to decide exactly what kind of Wolf you want to be,” Kalene said, “and I suggest you check the collar around your neck, Dog, before you make that decision.” There was no sympathy on her beautiful face, nothing but a righteous demand.
“So you tell me, Rook,” she snarled. “How is this evening going to end, with you Mating a Hound… or killing a Master?”
Ryker had been serious about us being Mated that very evening.
The moon was already making its ascension into the sky by the time I was finished being prepped. As soon as the handmaidens were done, the door to the room opened and two Hounds appeared.
“The Master is ready for you,” said the taller of the two. He jerked his chin for me to follow him, and I did so without resistance. Before I exited the room, I cast one last look at Kalene, who had gone back to her vacant, subdued stare.
The dagger she had slipped me was tucked into the bodice of my gown, where my strained heart was racing beside it.
Even if I was entirely sure that I didn’t want to Mate Ryker, there was really no backing out now. Kalene had been right about that. A glance at the Hounds revealed that as far as choices went, I had two.
I could allow myself to be Mated to Ryker. Or, when he crawled on top of me to make the Mating official, I could jam the dagger Kalene had given me into his throat, and kill the new West Coast Pack Master in a fashion perhaps less spectacular, but certainly more brutal than I had the previous one.
Because to finalize a Mating Ceremony, two Wolves had to merge their mortal bodies in front of everyone in the Pack. Every Wolf, males and females of all ages, would be present to watch. Ryker would tear my gown from me after removing his own clothes. Then, he would flip me onto my stomach and take me from behind, just as he would if we were in our Wolf forms.
While his seed spilled inside me, he would bite into my shoulder just hard enough to break the skin. The Pack would send up a symphony of howls. The Mating would be complete. The bond would be unbreakable. With that done, Ryker would no longer need a collar to control me, he’d have some of the strongest Wolf magic to make sure the job was done.
The real question was, could I kill him to save myself from such a fate? Could I really make my hand jab the dagger into his throat, and watch his blood spill over my fingers while my broken heart called out to the remnants of his?
I didn’t know.
But when I made it to the bottom of the spiral staircase leading up to the tower room Ryker had locked me in, and I saw Mekhi waiting for me with a huge, Wolfish grin on his ugly face, I knew one thing for certain.
Time to decide was up.
33
The smile on the Hound’s face was enough to make my blood boil. His eyes ran over me from head to toe, taking in every inch of my body in a way that felt both abrasive and invasive.
Suddenly, I wished I would not have allowed them to dress me up in this ridiculous silk gown and painted face. I looked and felt utterly ridiculous, and the dagger hidden within the dress felt a little less heavy as a result.
“Well, look at you,” Mekhi crooned, scratching the scar over his eyebrow with his thumb and running his tongue out over his large, pink lips. “You look good enough to eat,” he whispered.
“Go fuck yourself,” I spat.
Pain exploded on the left side of my face as the Hound slapped me hard enough to rattle my teeth. I bit down on any cry of agony that might want to escape me, refusing to give the Hound the pleasure. Instead, I absorbed the blow despite the abruptness of it, bringing my eyes back to his and holding his stare with a death promise in my own.
“See what you made me do?” Mekhi said, shaking his head in feigned disappointment. “I’m supposed to remove that collar before we step out in front of everyone, Master’s orders, but I told him that would be a mistake, that we should wait until the very last minute… but,” he shrugged, “appearances.”
I only stared at him, thinking the dagger would not be wasted if I jammed it into his throat right then.
Mekhi leaned forward, his face comi
ng close enough to mine that all I could smell was his rancid breath. Around us, the other two Hounds that had led me down here watched on in silence.
“You know, I told Ryker that you can’t make a Dog into a Mate,” Mekhi continued, apparently unaware of how close he was to being impaled, “just the same as you can’t make a whore into a housewife.” He laughed. “Am I right?”
He sighed when I just continued my glare. “Well, orders are orders,” he said with a shrug.
One of the other Hounds put a black bag over my head, obscuring my vision. This was standard procedure when removing one of the collars, meant to keep Dogs ignorant of what goes on with the removal. It took a few moments, and there was the distinct feel of magic circling my neck.
Then, Mekhi yanked the thing off me hard enough to make me stumble forward and almost fall flat on my face. One of the other Hounds gripped my arm roughly and righted me, and I struggled with the very real decision of sacrificing my own life in this very instant for the trade off of murdering Mekhi right where he stood. The other two Hounds would definitely be able to take me down, but not before I could cut the bastard’s throat clean open.
Kalene’s words came back to me, though, and ultimately stayed my hand. “I want you to avenge Ares and Oren and all of the other poor bastards they burned alive,” she’d told me. “I want you to kill that son of a bitch Ryker while the entire Western Coast watches—same as you did Reagan Ramsey… So you tell me, Rukiya. How is this evening going to end, with you Mating a Hound… or killing a Master?””
I was shoved forward, the moment where Mekhi was in absolute reach passing as we made our way through the castle.
The halls were silent and empty, just me and my three Hound escorts. With each step I took my heart picked up in pace, my palms growing sweaty and my mind racing with indecision. If this were any of the other Pack Masters, the decision would be instant and obvious. Taking out any one of them would be worth my life, for all the pain and destruction those individuals had caused to others... But, this was Ryker, and he was a bastard, yes, a Hound and now a Pack Master himself.