by Lily Cahill
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Max took a cold compress and a hot washcloth from Annika as his brothers glared at him from across the living room. He glared back, watching as Annika distributed the same little party favors to everyone. When she'd gone into the kitchen, he finally spoke.
"You came here to talk. So talk," Max said.
"We came here to meet you," Elliott spit out, his black eye hidden behind a compress. "Not to get ambushed."
"What the hell did you expect?" Max said. "Balloons and streamers?"
"A handshake would have been nice," Hudson said, dabbing at his split lip with a washcloth.
"So I'm supposed to just act like we're brothers now? Like the past didn't happen?"
"We are brothers," Samuel said firmly. Somehow, he'd only managed to get a small scrape on his cheek. Max would have to try harder next time.
"No," Max said. "We're not brothers anymore. That ended the day she sent me away."
Elliott turned to Hudson. "Please let me hit him again."
"She sent us all away, asshole," Hudson barked, ignoring Elliott. "You're not the only one, so stop licking your wounds and get over it."
"What are you talking about?" Max asked. That couldn't be true, could it?
"To protect us," Hudson said. "You should be thanking her. But instead you're too busy feeling sorry for yourself."
"Wait," Samuel said. "Is that what you thought? That you were the only one?"
"Are you trying to tell me you idiots didn't grow up in the palace?" Max asked.
"Of course not," Elliott said. "We all got treated the same. We all got sent away. None of us knew shit until a few months ago."
"Sure you didn't," Max said.
Samuel looked to his brothers. "He got sent away first, after Dad died. We thought he was old enough to remember everything, but he doesn't even know."
"Know what?" Max asked, getting more pissed by the second. He did not appreciate being the one on the outside of their little insider information.
"The Zoltags attacked at Dad's funeral," Samuel said with a worried glance toward where Annika was standing in the kitchen. "They tried to kill us all when we were just kids. That's why she sent us away, into hiding. If it hadn't been for Mom, the three of us might be dead."
Max shook his head. He didn't know what to believe anymore.
"He's telling the truth," Annika said, stepping in from the kitchen.
Max was glad she was there. She was the one person in this room he actually trusted.
Annika continued. "You all got sent away after what my father did. And he would have done it again. The palace wasn't safe anymore. None of you were."
"Yeah," Elliott said to Max. "If you're pissed at anyone, it should be your girlfriend over there. Not us."
Max had a fist twisted in his prissy collared shirt in two seconds. "You say another word about her and I will eat you for breakfast, understand?"
"Bet I'm tasty with hash browns," Elliott dared.
Max swung at him, but Elliott jumped up and grabbed his fist mid-air. Maybe he wasn't quite as pathetic as Max had originally thought.
Before Max could throw another punch, Hudson and Sam were on them, pulling them apart.
"Jesus, Elliott. Can you keep your mouth shut for once?" Hudson said as he slammed Elliott back into the couch.
But Elliott didn't listen. "You bonded with her, didn't you? With a Zoltag?" Elliott asked with hate in his eyes.
"You didn't seem to mind it when a Zoltag saved your life," Annika said.
"That was different," Elliott said. "We were friends. And I didn't bond--"
"You were quite a bit more than friends from the way I understand it," Annika said.
"Would someone please tell me what the hell you're all talking about?" Max asked.
Annika turned to him. "My sister saved this creep's life. And she died doing it."
"She's right," Hudson said quietly.
"And you," Annika said, pointing at Hudson. "What would have happened to Kay if I hadn't stepped in? Do you really think you would have made it through their defenses? Do you really think she would have lasted long enough for you to try?"
Hudson seemed to bristle at her accusation that he wasn't strong enough to protect his own mate. It was yet another story Max didn't know, but he wasn't surprised his Annika had managed something Hudson couldn't. She was unbreakable.
"I risked my life for her," Annika continued. "I barely made it back before they figured out she'd escaped. And let me tell you, my father was pissed when he thought she got past me. He would have killed me if he knew I actually helped her."
Maxwell saw a familiar look in his mate's eye, and suspected she'd been punished harshly for her so-called mistake. He wanted to punch Hudson for ever thinking a single bad thought about her.
"I owe you a debt," Hudson said, looking Annika straight in the eye. "One that I may never be able to repay."
"Hold on," Elliott said. "Is she seriously trying to say her family is trustworthy?"
"I'm not defending my family. They can all eat shit and die as far as I'm concerned. But I've never done anything to any of you."
"And she's been through more hell than all of us put together," Max said.
"I bet," Elliott scoffed.
"How would you have liked having a murderer as a father?" Max challenged him.
"What happened to your brothers?" Samuel asked quietly, interrupting Max and Elliott's heated exchange. "The ones who attacked me and Frankie. The ones who ran away."
"I don't know," Annika said. "They never came home."
"And if they had?" Samuel asked.
"I think you know the answer to that question," she said.
"You ran from him too?" Hudson asked Annika.
"A week ago," she said. "With Maxwell."
"And he doesn't know where you are?"
"No."
Hudson and Samuel exchanged a look.
"And who's idea was it for Maxwell to abdicate?" Elliott asked. "That seems pretty damn convenient, if you ask me."
"Mine," Max said firmly.
Hudson looked back and forth between Annika and Max. Finally, he spoke. "I vote she comes."
"We promised Mom we wouldn't bring her back. Just him," Elliott protested.
"We didn't know it was Annika when we made that promise," Hudson said. "And I trust Annika."
"That doesn't mean Mom's going to be cool with it," Elliott said.
"Annika comes, or I don't," Max said. "It's that simple."
"She's your mate?" Sam asked cautiously.
"Yes."
Sam looked to Hudson. "Then she comes. She has to."
"No way," Elliott said.
"She's in just as much danger as he is," Hudson said. "If not more. It's not safe to leave them."
"We can take care of ourselves," Max said.
"I'm sure you can, but it would be easier at the palace," Samuel said. "Mom's been turning it into a fortress for the last thirty years. And if you're set on abdicating, you have to go there anyway."
"Personally, I think that's a hasty decision to abdicate," Hudson said. "But it's yours to make, and I'll deal with it if you do."
Max stared at him, realizing for the first time that if he didn't take the throne, someone else would have to--and that someone was Hudson. This whole time, he'd been operating under the assumption that they'd been trying to get rid of him--had chosen to keep him away--because they didn't want him to rule. But Hudson seemed just as hesitant to take the job as he was.
It was a small thing, seeing Hudson's hesitation, but it had the effect of making absolutely everything look nearly the opposite of how it had before.
Max suddenly felt like an asshole. His brothers hadn't shown up to force him through some formality. They'd shown up to meet their older brother and bring him safely to the throne. And he'd treated them like the enemy.
"I can't believe you guys are even considering this," Elliott said. "She could be a spy, or an assassin, or both."
Elliott quieted.
"Love is the first tenant of being a shifter," Hudson said. "Mom won't like it, but she'll learn to accept it."
But Elliott still wasn't talking. He was sitting there with his arms across his chest.
Max looked to Elliott, thoughts still churning in his mind. "I owe you an apology," he said. "I owe you all an apology. For how I treated you. I was under some incorrect assumptions. I'm sorry."
"It's been jarring for all of us," Hudson offered.
"Yeah. And it's only the beginning. Just wait until you see what happens when you two do your commitment ceremony," Sam chuckled.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Max smirked, liking the idea of anything that had him making a commitment to Annika.
"Oh, you'll see," Hudson said. "As Mom would say, true love makes our kind stronger."
"And your love is true," Sam grinned.
Hudson laughed. Even Elliott cracked a smile.
Max wasn't entirely sure what that meant. It seemed like an inside joke of some sort. But before he could ask, Sam spoke up again.
"What do you say, Elliott?" he asked. "Don't you think it's time to bring our brother and his mate home?"
Elliott shook his head. "I still don't like it. But if you guys are set on it, I'm not going to fight you."
"Thank you, Elliott," Hudson said, then he turned to Maxwell. "You have our support. Will you come to the palace with us?"
Max looked to Annika. Her face was worried. He could tell she wanted to go to the palace almost as much as Elliott wanted her there. An hour ago, he would have hated the idea just as much. But now he wanted to go. He wanted to go very, very badly.
As she met his eye, he thought she saw the new light there. Finally, Annika nodded.
Max turned to his brothers. "We'll come."
Chapter Fifteen
Annika
Annika handed her small suitcase to Maxwell, and he loaded it into the plane's cargo hold. They were going to the palace. They were actually going to the palace. Of all the places she'd hoped to go in her life, that was the last. The very idea of it sent a pang of anxiety through her heart.
But when she'd looked at Maxwell, she'd seen it written all over his face. The visit from his brothers had changed something, something big. He wanted to go, and he wasn't going to go without her. So she'd agreed.
The jet's engines were already warming up on the runway. The other princes would take off first. The plan was for her and Maxwell to follow in his plane all the way to Juneau, Alaska. Max wanted his own plane close, which gave her some hope that they'd be returning to this wonderful haven someday soon. He'd stow it in Juneau, then the five of them would continue on together from there on a different plane entirely.
She'd studied the maps as a child along with all her brothers and sisters. The palace was extremely remote, nearly inaccessible. The easiest way to get there was a seaplane, because the lake out front could act as a runway. But that was an option her family had never considered for their attacks. It was too obvious, too easy to see them coming and attack as soon as they landed.
Instead, her father had relied on helicopters to get them as close as possible. After that it was snowmobiles or snowshoes--something her brothers had been trained to run on. Not walk, run. And they were fast. A lifetime with a single attack goal in mind would do that to a person.
She tried not to think about the fact that they were about to go to the one place she knew her father would show up at eventually--and probably soon. He'd been gathering supporters from other clans--picking them off like rotten fruit. His army was growing slowly but steadily. It was yet another idea that had her palms sweating at the same time it sent the rest of her body into a chill.
One day, her father would find her there, and his wrath would be worse than anything she'd ever faced before. She could only hope that having all the princes fighting against him would make for an easy defeat. But she knew no part of Dietrich Zoltag would allow anything to be easy.
"You stay here. I'll grab the last bag," he said.
"I can do it," she said. She was sure he had airplane things to do, and she liked being useful.
"Thanks," he said, handing her his key. "Lock the door on your way out?"
"Will do," she said.
She hiked back to the house and grabbed the bag that held their sack lunches and water for the journey. They were slower than the jet. It was going to be a long flight, and everyone thought it was a better idea not to stop along the way.
Annika locked the house up behind her, saying a quiet good-bye in her heart. She was going to miss this place. She heard the jet barreling down the runway just as she stepped off the deck.
Then she saw something that made her blood run cold.
A polar bear.
There was a polar bear at the edge of the woods, racing straight for Maxwell. But Maxwell's back was turned. He was oblivious, watching his brothers fly away, and she was too far to get there in time.
"MAX!" she screamed. "MAXWELL!"
But the sound of the jets was too loud. He couldn't hear her. He couldn't hear anything.
Something cold slapped over her mouth and tightened around her waist.
That smell. She would recognize that smell anywhere.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
How had he found her? How? Even she hadn't known where she was going when they left.
"Quiet, little girl," her father said. "And pay attention while Fritzy teaches your little lover boy over there a lesson."
Annika struggled against him, but he was stronger than her. He'd always been stronger than her. Something sharp jabbed into her neck. A needle?
It must have been. She felt her limbs go weak. She tried to shift, but she couldn't manage it. Her body wouldn't obey. He'd tranquilized her.
It was just like last time, when she'd finally left the compound and he hadn't wanted her to see how to find it again. She had a minute before she lost consciousness, maybe less.
She watched as Fritz, her brother, closed in on Maxwell. She watched as he pounced. Her father's grip finally loosened around her mouth.
"No!" she screamed. "No!" But it only came out quiet, weak.
At the last second, Maxwell seemed to sense something was wrong--or maybe he finally heard her. He shifted, but it was already too late. Fritz landed on him with a mighty roar, and the two of them began to fight.
That's when she noticed the rest of them.
They were coming through the forest in droves, wearing the battle gear they were accustomed to: harnesses strapped with guns and ammo.
Another of her brothers--Hans--shifted into his human form, grabbed a gun, and took fire at the jet, rising into the sky. Two more of her brothers followed suit.
"Who's in the plane?" Dietrich asked.
She didn't say a word.
"It's the brothers, isn't it?" he said. "They came to collect him. That's why you were packing up, wasn't it?"
Again, she didn't answer.
"Well, well, well." Dietrich was grinning. She could hear it in his voice, though she couldn't see his face the way he was holding her. "This might all be over very, very soon."
Annika heard the echo of the shots ring out, but couldn't tell if they were hitting. The plane seemed to rise, though--so small that it was surely out of rifle range. She saw no flames, no broken parts careening down. At least they'd gotten away. But what about Maxwell?
She tried to spot him on the field, but he was covered with her brothers. They were stacking onto him in a giant pile of white fur. The pile undulated with Maxwell's movements. He was fighting, and fighting hard. But they outnumbered him.
Guilt overtook her as her vision went muddy. This was all her fault.
Chapter Sixteen
Annika
Annika woke shivering. She felt half frozen, immobile, though it sounded like she was moving. Something rumb
led beneath her, loud and shaking. It sounded like an engine. It sounded like tire against road.
She forced her eyes open, but found that it was still too dark to see. Only a small crack of light was visible--a thin, long line across the floor--and the cold air was coming from the same direction. Annika put it together. She was in a truck. She was in the back of a big rig, and she had no idea where it was headed.
Then she noticed something else.
Bars.
Thick, heavy bars. She wasn't just in the back of a truck. She was inside a cage, like an animal.
"Hello?" she called out.
A match lit the darkness next to her, pulled slowly to a cigarette. God, she hated that smell. It was rancid and rotten and owned exclusively by her father.
"Have a nice nap?" he chuckled, the garish scars on his face looking even more menacing in the light of the cigarette.
"What did you do to him?" she asked, her voice sharp as a knife.
"Loverboy?" he asked. "Oh, he's fine."
"You didn't kill him?" she asked, hope flooding her heart.
"Not yet. We still need him breathing for a while longer."
"Where is he?"
"Over there," he said, motioning with his cigarette.
Annika strained to see. The bright tip of the cigarette was playing tricks with her eyes, making them accustomed to light instead of darkness. But she concentrated, and finally she made out another cage. It was just like hers, but on the opposite end of the space, near the back wall. She was closer to the door--the crack of light, the cold air.
Like she had been a moment ago, Maxwell was huddled on the floor. Only he wore no clothes. His body was covered in bruises and cuts, completely exposed to the elements.
Between them, her brothers sat in rows on the floor--some sleeping, some staring into space as the truck trundled toward who knew where. They had taken him in his human form and not even bothered to give him a blanket.
Wherever they were, it was cold, and growing colder by the second. She expected they were heading north. It could have meant the compound, but she guessed it didn't. She guessed it meant the palace.
She tried to think clearly. Maxwell was alive. That's what mattered now. She had to figure out a way to save him. To save them both.