by SJ Himes
“I woke up and you were gone, and I find you in bed with my best friend,” Kane grumbled, nipping at Ghost’s neck. Ghost frowned, not understanding the problem, and he snuggled in close, wrapping his legs around Kane’s hips. “Naked, and in his bed.”
“Sophia is here, too,” Ghost replied, licking his lips and staring at Kane’s mouth, wanting to taste it. Sophia groaned and slapped at Burke when he snorted out a laugh. “Burke was hurt. It was my fault, so I fixed him.”
Kane glared at Burke, who sat back against the headboard, shaking his head. “I told him it wasn’t his fault, but he’s stubborn, like his mate.” Kane rolled his eyes, which made Ghost smile. He nibbled along his mate’s strong jaw, licking the firm flesh. Kane exhaled, and his hands wandered down to his bare ass.
“Fuck, Kane, watch where you’re putting your hands in mixed company,” Burke grumbled, and a blush rose over his cheekbones, his dark eyes going gold as he gazed at where Kane’s hands were resting. Kane growled, and spun on his heel, putting his back to the room and blocking Burke’s view.
“Get dressed, and meet us downstairs. Andromeda has the traitor and is on her way back. I need a moment with my mate,” Kane ordered his wolves over his shoulder, and he carried Ghost from the room. He could hear Burke swearing, Sophia saying something about him hogging the blankets and letting his eyes wander where they shouldn’t.
Kane carried him back to the room they slept in the night before, kicking the door shut. Kane tried to put Ghost down, but he held on, and with a mental push, toppled them both to the bed. Kane settled between his legs, and Ghost ran his hands over the firm muscles of his mate’s back, relishing in the feel of his smooth skin and warm strength. Kane growled, a gentle rumble that made Ghost give a breathy laugh, tilting his head to let Kane at his neck.
Kane pulled his head away after laying a wet kiss to his neck, dark eyes lit up from within. “We need to get dressed.”
Ghost sighed, knowing his mate was right. He wanted to stay here, under Kane’s body, secure and safe, the world just the two of them. Yet he couldn’t, they couldn’t. Kane was the Heir, and they could not ignore their duties. There were things to do, and his mate had wolves to protect.
They got dressed, more of Shaman River’s clothing appearing mysteriously for Ghost to wear, since he had none of his own. Kane had clothing in the hall next to the door, a small duffel bag that must have survived the explosion, presumably Sophia taking care of her alpha while they slept. He felt a brief pang of guilt when he pulled the soft sweater over his head, but if River was leaving him clothing and healing his hurts, then the other shaman must not be that mad at him for throwing him in the wall. He frowned as he sat on the bed, staring down at the heavy brown leather boots next to his sock-covered feet. Kane was waiting by the door, doing something with his cellphone, dark head down and fingers flying.
Ghost thought about what happened the night before, backing through his memories from when the bomb exploded, all the way to the altercation in the hallway with River. He was unaccustomed to thinking thusly, to concerning himself with important matters in his human form. Wolf was easy; eat, sleep, hunt, play. No responsibilities, and no need to apologize. He threw a shaman into a wall with his mind, and now his mate was about to deal with a traitor. His life was so much simpler when he just had to exist as an over-large pet wolf. Confusion clouded his thoughts, and he realized he’d been staring down at his borrowed boots for long minutes. He pushed his feet into them one at a time, the long thin laces hanging from his fingers.
Fingers, hands. Feet. Days old as a man, his skin smooth as an infant’s, untouched by life and time. The laces twirled around his fingers, moving in a wind that came as he stirred the power that lay quiet just under his skin. It had always been there, his power. His use of it over the last several years was instinctual and sporadic. Until he burned Remus and the weakling doctor at the sanctuary he’d never used it with true intent, with purpose. Opening locks and doors was idle thought expressing itself as action.
He had no true control. Last night was proof enough. The whisper that carried the warning to his ears had been a faint annoyance, his mate and packmates distracting him just enough that the words weren’t clear until it was too late. He may have saved his new packmates lives, but if he’d given coherent warning in time, then he wouldn’t have tossed Burke like a chew toy and risked the life of his mate and his wolves. River would never have been hurt if Ghost was trained. Throwing someone head first into a wall was not the reasonable response of a grown man to being tugged on his arm. And especially not to a shaman.
Finding his humanity brought with it the need for control, and responsibility. He was a shaman, and reactionary behavior and unschooled gifts were not the way to go on as a man.
Ghost sat up, the laces falling from his fingers, curling in the soft wind that flowed over the floor. He narrowed his eyes, and breathed evenly, focusing. His will bent the wind, and the laces moved, invisible fingers guiding them along the riveted hooks, lacing up the boots. He recognized the wind for what it was, his ability affecting the physical world, a bleed over side effect. He banished the wind as the laces tied, a neat bow like he’d seen Glen tie on his own boots hundreds of times over the years.
“You are glorious, little wolf,” Kane sat on his heels at his feet, big hands resting on his knees, their warmth and inherent strength soothing Ghost’s melancholy. “What makes you so sad?”
“I have power,” Ghost said, holding up his hand, calling to the celestial river of energy he could feel brewing and writhing beneath his skin. His hand glowed, a glimmer and sheen of silver white light that winked in time with his heartbeat. “I have power and no training. I know what Andromeda told Grandpa Caius, I saw it in your mind when you came back to me after calling him. Am I dangerous?”
“We are wolfkin. We are all of us a danger.” Kane put a hand to his cheek, thumb rubbing his skin. He sighed and leaned into the touch, needing it. Wanting more. “Never be afraid of what you are, or what you can do. I have the power to destroy any of our people with a careless word and thought. I can break the strongest of wolves with my jaws. But if I fear my power, then I can’t control it, and I will end up hurting someone. I will never be happy that I carry the Voice, but I will not fear it. True control comes from embracing your powers and gifts, and letting go of fear and guilt.”
Ghost tried to nod, but for all of Kane’s faith in him, his mate couldn’t remove the doubt in his heart. Ghost dispelled the lights and sighed again.
Kane stood and gently tugged him to his feet. Ghost went into his arms, snuggling close, chin on his alpha’s chest, looking up into his dark eyes. Kane gave him a sweet smile, gazing down at him as if he were the greatest treasure, precious and rare. Ghost smiled in return, helpless to resist the blatant affection in the older wolf’s eyes.
“I am not afraid that you will lose control or hurt someone innocent. Even betas have power and gifts to control. We all do. We are none of us perfect, my little wolf, and we all learn to live with who and what we are. You will too, and I somehow think you’ll gain control of your abilities far faster than any shaman the clans have ever seen.”
“Hope for the best?” Ghost said softly, repeating a phrase Cat was fond of saying. It usually accompanied Glen’s warning of ‘plan for the worst’. He was moved by Kane’s faith in him, and he hoped to do his mate proud.
“Yes, little wolf,” Kane affirmed, and graced his forehead with a chaste kiss. Kane gently led him to the door, and Ghost felt a shimmer of power rush over his skin. “She’s here, let’s go.”
Andromeda was back. Her anger rolled over the cabin, and Ghost pulled up his Spirit-sight in time to see through the walls as a golden-white star gained the front yard, burning to his eyes like a supernova.
The White Wolf was not happy.
KANE SILENTLY called his wolves to the front porch. Gerald was there, exhausted yet resolute, a
nd he let Kane and Ghost take his place at the railing as Andromeda led a small cream-colored female beta to the middle of the snowy yard. Kane put a hand on Gerald’s shoulder and gave the lesser alpha a brisk nod in thanks for his vigil through the night before giving his full attention to the White Wolf. Sophia and Burke came out as well and stood at their backs, followed by the remaining members of the Black Pine wolves.
The White Wolf Changed in the barest of seconds, her brother there immediately to offer her a cotton dress, this one white and pristine as the snow in which she stood. River paused when he noticed the small beta, and he shook his head, turning his back on the beta and walking to the porch. The shaman must know the traitor, given her coloring and his reaction. He disappeared among the crowd, though Kane knew he wouldn’t go far.
Kane was about to speak when the door opened one more time, and his brows went up in surprise when Gabriel Suarez stepped out, making his way through the assembled wolfkin to stand beside Ghost. This was Gabe’s first foray into public since his kidnapping and torture, and Kane gave him a nod, trying to show how proud he was of the youngling that he would brave everyone’s eyes and the whispers that followed him.
Ghost surprised Gabe in turn, grabbing the young alpha’s hand with his free one, before turning to the scene in the yard. Gabe looked down at the small shaman, but said nothing, the tightness around his haunted moss-green eyes fading a bit.
“Shift, my daughter,” Andromeda ordered the beta, and Kane stiffened. Daughter?
Her voice held an edge to it that made everyone present stand straighter in response. The White Wolf’s power was inescapable and ruthless. The cream-colored beta hung her head low, nose touching the snow, and she Changed, the transformation slow and typically awkward for a weaker beta.
Kane growled when the beta gained her human-form. She sniffled, wiping a small hand over her face, tears pouring from her eyes as Claire lifted her head, formerly of Red Fern, a current wolf belonging to Black Pine. She was one of the betas that hung around the alphas and first betas that lived in Caius’ Clan House in Augusta. She also spent the majority of her time with one wolf, hanging on his every word, depressingly in love with him, even though everyone knew he was never faithful or returned her affections.
Gerald swore where he stood at Kane’s shoulder, obviously making the same intuitive leap as Kane. He scented nothing from Gerald but anger and frustration, the sour tang of deceit and fear absent. At least one son of Caius was honest and free of treason.
“Talk, my child,” Andromeda ordered the beta, who nodded, even as she choked back a sob, thin and small in the cold wind on the mountain, naked, on her knees in the snow.
“I am Claire,” she sniffled, her words garbled by tears but clear enough to their sensitive ears. “I was born to Red Fern, my mother Andromeda, but I moved to Black Pine to follow my lover fifteen years ago. I was the one who placed the bomb on the steps of the Heir’s cabin, at my lover’s request, to kill the Speaker and the Heir’s First Beta.”
“Why?” Andromeda said casually, as if asking if anyone wanted more tea. Kane admired her iron control, even though she must be beyond angered.
“Because Kane is impossible to beat in combat. His Voice is useless if he cannot control it, and the hope was that grief and anger would render that Gift impotent enough to take out the Heir.”
“Tell them who your lover is, my daughter,” Andromeda said, words like stones, each flung with harsh precision, Claire flinching with every syllable. “Tell them the name of the great traitor.”
Kane knew. Gerald knew. Sophia and Burke knew, as did the wolves of Black Pine standing behind him on the porch. The wolves of Red Fern were coming, filling the edges of the yard, silently watching one of their own confess her sins. The second Claire revealed herself, they all knew. Growls and snarls of rage rose in the wind, and Claire quaked in terror, tears falling faster. She looked to her mother, as if pleading for a reprieve, but there was none in the Clan Leader’s expression. Gone was Andromeda, beta mother of many cubs. The White Wolf, Clan Leader of Red Fern, was resolute, and Claire’s eyes spilled a river of tears in total defeat before speaking the name.
“My lover is Roman, son of Caius, and he is the traitor the Heir and his wolves have been hunting the last fifteen years.”
GHOST, GABE, Sophia, Burke and Gerald were all that remained in the front yard, the remaining wolves sent to patrol the borders and post sentries among the cabins. Claire shivered in the breeze, still kneeling, Andromeda behind her. River was gone, somewhere nearby, but heavily affected by his niece’s betrayal and unable to join them. The older shaman’s absence worried Ghost, part of him wanting to find the wolfkin and help him, but River’s face left little doubt of how unwelcome his gesture of comfort would be taken.
Ghost still held Gabe’s hand, a few feet from where Kane stood over Claire as she answered his questions.
“Where is Roman?”
“I do not know for certain, Alpha. Mother called us home, and I used that to meet him without anyone noticing. I met him just outside the border and took the package he gave me. He told me where to put it, and how to arm it. I was supposed to kill your First Beta and the Speaker.”
“Why?”
“Because he can’t defeat you in a Challenge, you’re too strong. You defeated him twice in combat, and that was without using the Voice.”
“So killing Sophia and Burke would gain him what?” Kane demanded, growling. Claire ducked her head, tears now dry. Defeat and despair was in every word, every line of her body.
“He reasoned that if the First Beta and your best friend were both dead, then you would be crippled by grief, and easily restrained,” Claire admitted.
“That is the stupidest thing he’s ever thought of,” Gerald scoffed, shaking his head and turning away, kicking at the snow under his boots. Kane snarled, and Gerald quieted.
“Restrained? Not dead?” Kane asked.
Claire nodded, and Ghost was as confused as Kane appeared to be. Why not try to kill Kane?
“Yes, Alpha,” Claire whispered, head ducked, as if expecting a blow. This beta was nothing like her mother. She was meek and beaten, starved for affection and weak-willed. “All I know is he wants you and…”
“And?” Kane snarled, impatient.
“A shaman named Luca,” she gasped out, eyes on the snow under her snow-scraped knees. She purposely did not look at Ghost, and she kept her face averted. “The one long lost, thought drowned in Baxter’s river fifteen years ago.”
Ghost felt Kane’s fear through their link, and he sent reassurance along the river of light that wove between their spirits. The Heir did not visibly react, maintaining his control. Kane breathed easier, but he sensed the greater alpha’s hyper-alert state.
“Why?” Kane asked, and Ghost paid attention. The easy answer was power of course, but the how was truly relevant. Power and gifts were only transferrable along a mate bond, and could be blocked, and forced mating bonds could be broken by any shaman. Soulbonds, where the power exchange was reliable and dependable, would be the best way to gain another wolfkin’s abilities, but they only occurred at the discretion of the Great Mother. How Roman planned to gain power was the true mystery here. Unless the humans developed a means to steal gifts…
“Power, Alpha,” Claire said, lifting her head at last. Her eyes were bruised from crying, skin flushed and her lips turning blue. “He wants your powers, always has. He hates you so much and cannot abide shamans for the gifts he feels rightly belong to alphas.”
“He would never be able to gain what he wants from me, and from Luca,” Kane said, trying to reason out Roman’s motivations. “Our abilities don’t work like that, they can’t be stolen. Each gift belongs to the wolfkin in which it was born.”
“Is he working with Remus? We know the older brother tried to kidnap Gray Shadow and Luca, and Gray Shadow’s family. Was Roman the w
olf responsible for the ambush fifteen years ago?” Burke said, turning on Claire directly.
“Yes...,” Claire stammered, and the tears returned. “I was there that night, the night before the ambush, and told Roman about Gray Shadow’s plans to leave at dawn with his family. He told Sebastien Remus, who then tried to capture them the next morning.”
“You were the beta at the council house,” Kane breathed in realization, anger swelling so fast Ghost could taste the rage coming off his mate. The Heir’s whole body seemed to vibrate, and his shoulders tensed, fingers curling to claws. Foreseeing Claire was about to die a brutal death, Ghost stepped up to his mate and placed his hand on the Heir’s shoulder, pulling at the vicious anger inside his mate, clearing his thoughts. Kane shuddered and carefully looked over his shoulder at Ghost, his eyes wild, fangs descending, but that was all Ghost would allow. He didn’t know how he did it, but he restrained his mate’s impending Change.
Claire may yet die for treason, but not like this. Not at Kane’s hands in a rage. Ghost would never let Kane kill in anger, his actions, no matter how justifiable, haunting his mate all their long lives.
Burke jerked on his feet, a small movement that Ghost saw only because the Speaker was nearest to Kane and in his line of sight. Wondering what happened to startle Burke, Ghost released his mental hold on his mate and met Burke’s eyes. Kane returned his attention to Claire after taking a deep breath, his anger under control. Kane sent him a wordless thanks along their link, and Ghost squeezed his shoulder, still watching Burke. The Speaker was staring at him, brows raised, mouth slightly agape.
*Burke?* Ghost asked, making sure to keep his query private, so as not to distract his mate.