"Then why are you … " I wave my free hand vaguely, and he laughs.
"I was just worried, pup. You were slurring your words something fierce and kept getting distracted. Dorian said you hit your head, but he couldn't tell if you'd lost consciousness or not." He sighs. "Not to mention you were staggering like a drunk all the way back to the mansion."
I frown. "I don't remember you being there."
He smiles. "You were leaning on me the whole time."
"Oh."
He laughs and squeezes my hand lightly. "If you can still blush like that, then I guess you'll be okay."
I don't know what to say to that, so I stay quiet, and Donovan doesn't say anything else, either. The fuzziness from the headache drags me down, and this time, I don't fight the urge to sleep. The last thing I see before I drop off is Donovan's smile.
*~*~*
"Light duty, idiot!" Noelle yells after me as I leave the infirmary. I wave my hand at her and hunch my shoulders as I walk down the hall. I keep getting stopped by people asking if I'm alright, and it takes way too long to get back to my room.
I close the door behind me and rest my forehead on the doorframe. God, I feel awful, weak and shaky, and my head still hurts.
"Alright, little wolf?"
I whirl around and sag against the door when my head throbs angrily. I grit my teeth and battle the urge to throw up until it fades.
"I'm sorry, pup." Dorian's hovering a few feet away, and I wave away his concern.
"Why are you here?" I mumble. I stagger towards my bed and sink onto the cool sheets. A glass of water and a few pills appear under my nose, and I take both gratefully.
Dorian sits next to me, and I hold the glass to my cheek, my eyelids drooping. Noelle kicked me out of the infirmary cuz it's too noisy, and I kept waking up, and God do I want to go back to sleep right now.
"What do you remember from the other night, after we got back to the mansion?"
I give Dorian an unamused look, but he doesn't yield. I sigh. "I already talked to Donovan and Mika."
"Well, I want to know."
I close my eyes. "Not much. Mostly Noelle yelling my ear off. She wasn't happy I hadn't said anything about the silver, and I didn't want to get on the stretcher." And Donovan, but there's no way I'm telling that to Dorian.
"Where did you come from, Reese?" I frown, and he elaborates. "Your home pack. You don't ever talk about who raised you directly. You've pretty much admitted you have a home pack, but that's it, and that's more than anyone else knows."
"I don't want to talk about it." Standard answer to anyone who asks, though no one's asked in a long, long time.
"Well, you're gonna talk about it now because I want to know." There's a hard note in Dorian's voice now, and instinct has me itching to do as he says. "Who trained you? You're a highly competent enforcer, so why did you do such a shit job on my field dressing? You were panicked, like you didn't know what you were doing."
I shake my head and rotate the glass. "I don't want to talk about it." Ryan told me not to.
"Tell me, Reese."
"No." Ryan's order is still holding. I couldn't tell Dorian if I wanted to. I start to shake with the strain of dealing with two opposing orders, though, and my headache increases tenfold.
"Tell me now."
"I won't," I say through gritted teeth.
"Just make this easier on yourself and tell me."
"I … can't," I grind out.
He jumps on that. "Why not?"
I curl into myself. "Stop," I say.
"I won't. Tell me what you're hiding, Reese." There's a harder note of command in his voice now, and Ryan hasn't been around to exert control for months.
The glass slips from my fingers and breaks against the floor. "Stop it."
"Tell me."
Splitting agony erupts behind my eyes, and I whine, pressing my hands against my ears, but Dorian grabs my wrists and forces me to uncurl. "Stop it!"
"Reese, tell me what you're hiding!"
I do the only thing I can: I shift into my full wolf form, and the pain disappears. I pull my tail down and curl up in front of the beta, whining. Anger and frustration roll off him, and he snarls before stomping away.
I lay on my bed and pant, bury my head in my paws and just breathe for a while. Not good. This isn't good, not good at all.
I spend the next few days as a wolf, partially because I'm too tired from fighting Dorian's orders and recovering to shift back, and partially to protect myself if he decides to try again. I get a lot of curious looks as I trot around the mansion; I rarely spend whole days in my wolf form, though there are plenty of people who do.
Dorian tries to corner me for a few days before giving up. It's a lot easier to sneak around the mansion as a wolf, and I take shameless advantage of this fact. I know, on some level, that things can't stay like this. There's a lot I have to do, but it's easier to avoid thinking about those things as a wolf.
I know I'm failing my mission, but I don't care. I'm not ready to be found out, not yet. I haven't found out what I need to know.
I watch the pups roll around in the grass in the yard behind the mansion, happy for a while to watch them play from the shade of one of the huge pine trees that lines the property. I never got to do that when I was growing up. Playing was wasted time that could have been spent training, and Ryan didn't permit the other pups my age to talk to me much. Just one more reason why they all hate me.
I jerk my head up as Donovan drops down to sit next to me. He runs a hand along my back, and I sidle a little closer to press against his side. It's easier to do a lot of things as a wolf. He smiles and rubs my ears, and I shove my head into his chest. The only person who ever rubbed my ears was Cori, and that was only when the others weren't around. He laughs softly and indulges me till I'm half-asleep in his lap, warm and happy and content.
He strokes a hand down my side and leans over until his mouth's right next to my ear. "Change back, Reese."
With my defenses completely lowered, the order goes straight down to wherever we keep track of such things as dominance and loyalty and shatters Ryan's hold over me. I whine, but shift back obediently, habit guiding the change so I come back with my clothes on. I try to jump up when I'm settled inside my skin, but Donovan's arm across my chest keeps me right where I am. He nuzzles against me and pets me until I'm calm, and when I'm relaxed again, he starts talking.
"I'm sorry Dorian stressed you out like that, but he was trying to keep things from my attention until he knew what was going on," he says. "He didn't realize that your old alpha had such a hold on you still." He leans back against the tree and pulls me with him until I'm settled between his legs, my head on his thigh as he pets my hair. "He's very fond of you, actually. I think he wanted to protect you until he figured out what you're hiding. He just usually doesn't go about these things the right way."
"I'm sorry," I say, and he tugs on a lock of my hair.
"It's okay. I'm not gonna ask what you're hiding, or what you don't want to talk about," he says softly. "I want you to come to me and tell me when you're ready, okay?"
"But …"
"It's okay." There's a smile in his voice now as he traces his fingers along my throat and shoulder. "I trust you. I want you to come to me when you trust me. Okay?"
I have to swallow hard before I can reply, and I stubbornly ignore the burning behind my eyes. "Okay."
*~*~*
Donovan's office is moderately sized and brightly lit by the huge windows against the back walls. There are bookshelves covering all available wall space and more stacks taking some floor space. All in all, it's comfortable and familiar.
Just like Donovan. I refuse to glance at him and instead keep my eyes very firmly on Mika, who's giving me and the rest of the first and high-tier enforcers a brief rundown of what this meeting's supposed to be about.
Finally, they trust me enough. I should be happy about this meeting. Thrilled, even. This is a huge step towards my g
oal. I should be proud of myself.
So why do I want to crawl into a hole and never come out?
"Alright." I jerk my eyes up to Donovan, who's leaning against his desk with his arms crossed and a frown on his face. "I think it's about time we tell you all exactly what's going on." He glances at Dorian, who's sprawled in a chair a few feet away. Next to me, Nathan fidgets and nudges me. I shrug and don't look away from Donovan.
"We haven't been honest with you," Dorian says abruptly, and we all switch out attention to him. He straightens in his seat and makes a face. "We haven't been honest with most of you," he corrects. "To get down to it, we've been losing people. A lot of people."
"There've been kidnappings," Donovan says softly. "Whole teams going missing. We've been very careful about keeping it quiet, telling you all they were relocated, or that they're visiting allies. We've increased the ranks to make it easier to hide our losses, but the fact of the matter is, there have been a lot of losses."
"Why haven't you reported it?" Lee asks. "It's no secret that at least five packs have reported kidnappings. Why not tell the Syndicate?"
There's a low murmur of discontent at the idea of involving the Syndicate, but Lee doesn't back down, and we all look at Donovan when it becomes clear Lee isn't going to retract the question.
"Because those packs are our rivals," Donovan says. "Not a single one of our allies have reported kidnappings, to the Syndicate, or to us."
"You think we're being targeted," I say, the words falling out of my mouth before I can stop them. I cringe, but nobody looks irritated.
"Yes," Donovan says, giving me a little smile before he looks at Dorian.
"My spies haven't been able to find anything," Dorian says, and it's clear that he takes the lack of valuable information as a personal affront. "All we can really determine is that we're being targeted, but we don't know by who, or for what. If our allies aren't directly involved, then they can't help us, and I don't much like the idea of going up against Greenfield, Snowridge, and Silverlight. That's just asking for trouble."
"You think the attack last week was a continuation of the kidnappings?" Luka, a second-tier enforcer, asks. "Why would they try to take our beta?"
"Maybe they didn't know," Nathan says, a nasty edge to his tone. "Dorian coming along was a last-minute change, remember? Maybe they wanted someone else."
They fall into bickering, fueled by the fact that most everyone's in their half-form and therefore more volatile, and I toy with the idea of telling them my suspicions. But no, I'd have to tell them everything, and I can't do that. I can't betray Ryan again. I stare at the carpet, acutely aware of the gradually shifting atmosphere of the room from grim, but controlled to something anxious and fearful. Enforcers aren't the most stable bunch around, and there's a reason why we're not usually involved in decision-making meetings.
"You can't say we're not being herded!"
I jerk my head up and frown at Desmond. "What do you mean?" I ask, cutting clear across the other arguments, and the others fall silent.
"I mean we're stuck, and it can't be an accident," he snarls. "We could find out what's going on if we went to the Syndicate, but we can't do that because none of our allies can, and we'd be outnumbered. If we don't say anything, though, then we're still screwed cuz something's going on, and we don't know what! We can't move either way, and it's gonna bite us in the ass."
There's a dead stillness in the room, a shocked sort of silence as what he said sinks in. He's right, he's absolutely right.
"Shit." Donovan presses his hands to his eyes and stress and anger flow through the pack bond loud and clear. I cross my arms and lean back against the wall more firmly, resisting the urge to cross the room. It's not my place, not my right.
"We're fucked," Mika says softly, and the fear and confusion and anger jangle through the air, turning the warm scent of the room acrid and sour. "We need to figure out how to split the pack, send people to our allies to keep them safe until we figure out what to do."
Immediately, the others start protesting, yelling at Mika and each other as the tension snaps, exploding in a torrent of pent-up energy and denial, the almost fanatic desire to save face. I bite back the urge to join in the argument—I'm all too familiar with the need to never appear weak, to always show a strong front even when it's a lie. Most especially when it's a lie.
I close my eyes. In another few minutes, someone's gonna snap and shift fully, and this whole room's gonna turn into one huge brawl with the best fighters in the pack. I can't do anything here, can't risk my cover. But … I could take a look. I could get a message to the dragon, ask for what I need. I could find out if I'm right. Not defy Ryan, no, but … I could check, that's all. Just to be thorough.
I open my eyes and see Donovan, unmoved except that now he's pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezed shut, and I realize just how angry and stressed he must be not to bring his enforcers to heel. The enforcers respect him too much to allow this incident to hurt his dominance, but if he doesn't do something, it's just gonna put everyone more on edge. No one likes to know that their alpha doesn't know what to do.
I'm across the room before I make the conscious decision to move, and Donovan doesn't open his eyes when he reaches out and tugs me closer to him. I go easily and wrap my arms around his waist, bowing my head so he can bury his face in my neck and take a deep breath. I nuzzle against his shoulder and let out a long, shaky breath as the anxiety in the bond alleviates. I was always so used to Ryan telegraphing anger and disappointment at me, I never realized that other emotions could be sent, too, or how much of an effect they have.
I pretty much melt against Donovan, for once too relieved to be embarrassed at the physical contact. This is better than all the other emotions flying about, and Donovan smells much nicer without the undercurrent of anger and desperation riding along his scent.
I ignore the part of me that's pointing out that this sort of thing isn't my right, isn't something I should be doing. I'm not Donovan's spouse, I don't have the right to calm him down or soothe him. But he doesn't seem angry, and it's working. It's not like I'm going to be making a habit of this sort of behavior.
I also ignore the part of me that very much so wants to make this a habit.
"Alright, what we're going to do is start drawing up plans like Mika said." Donovan sounds more level now, and I realize that the arguing has stopped. I try to move away, to straighten, but Donovan doesn't so much as let me lift my head. "We're going to talk to our allies and see if we can't discover some kidnappings they hadn't felt like sharing with us, and if not, if we can arrange some. We've seen how they work—I'm sure we can replicate the situation. If that works, and we can make it so we won't be so outnumbered, then we'll go to the Syndicate."
"And if not?" Dorian drawls out.
"Then I'm sure we can find a wolf we can talk to." There's an edge to Donovan's voice I haven't heard before, something that reminds me a little of Ryan when he's getting ready to hurt someone, or when he was ordering me to kill that wolf, and I kept refusing. Danger, I guess it is. Donovan's ready to kill to protect his pack.
"Sounds like a plan," Dorian says. I tilt my head a little against Donovan's shoulder so I can see him, still lounging in his chair like he hasn't a care. He sees me looking at him and smirks. "Mika, you've handled these kinds of things before. Get everyone organized and kitted out and talk to who you need to so you can get things rolling."
"In the meantime, there's a rogue that needs killing," Mika says tiredly.
"I'll go." I push against Donovan's stomach and squirm until he lets me straighten, though he doesn't let me go. I half-turn so I can see my handler. "I'll take care of the rogue."
He frowns. "I'd prefer you stay close, Reese."
I glare at him. "Why? I can take care of it."
"That's not the problem, pup, I just—"
Donovan makes a small sound, and I look at him, then at my handler. They aren't telling me something, but neither
of them looks ready to volunteer the information, and I'm not exactly going to question my alpha in front of everyone.
"I want to go," I say, firmer. "It's the one on the northern sector, right? It's easy, I can take him and be back later."
Mika appears to be gritting his teeth before he nods sharply. "Van can give you the dossier."
"I'd rather someone else go," Donovan says quietly as everyone else files out, much more relaxed now that we have orders.
"Why?" I ask sharply.
He smiles. "I'm not going to tell you." He pulls me closer again, his fingers petting over the small of my back, a little above the base of my tail. "You have to guess."
"Why?" I ask again, trying to repress a shiver.
He laughs. "Because I want you to, pup. It's more fun if you guess." He laughs again at my disgruntled expression and nuzzles against my shoulder. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't poke fun. But I like that you're comfortable enough to snap and glare at me like that."
"You deserve it," I grumble, hitting his shoulder with the heel of my palm. He grabs my wrist and sniffs at my palm, a bright smile on his face.
"Maybe," he concedes. He surges up and nips at my ear, and I yelp and shove him away. He catches my wrist before I go too far and reels me back in, making low coaxing noises until I'm back where I started.
I let myself enjoy the contact for a little while before making myself deal with reality. Because I want to be thorough.
"Donovan?"
"Mm?"
"Can I have access to the enrollment database?" I trace my fingers over the backs of his shoulders. "There's … something I want to check."
He nips at my ear again, sharper than before, and I duck my head at the clear admonishment. But I don't explain further or relent, and he sighs after a minute. "As if I would tell you no, pup. Of course you can."
"Thank you." I rub my cheek against his shoulder. I'm sure it won't take the dragon long to get the information I need. I can check the database tomorrow and then … figure out what I'm going to do. Because honestly, it's probably time that I admitted that my loyalties aren't as absolute as I would like to think they are. It's hard to be loyal to an alpha you can't feel anymore. I've heard stories of wolves going undercover for years—I could never last that long. I've barely lasted six months as it is.
Private Dicks Page 5