“Reena, I’d like you to stay with Zara and wait for Baylee to wake. Daxon was quite adamant she not be alone. I have a few matters to see to, and better for the first face she sees to be a friendly one.” That matriarchal voice chilled considerably. “Saxa, you may walk me home. We can discuss your abominable attitude on the way.”
Baylee tuned them out. Evidently, she had Dax’s mother and at least one sister on her side. An improvement, she decided, on taking blows to the head. She’d gotten herself in too deep, too fast, and she didn’t know if Daxon was enough to hold her steady in the fast flow of hatred.
Bound to him by the depths of her love, she couldn’t live without him. Dramatic, she berated herself. Dramatic to say a person couldn’t live without another, because she could if she had to. She’d just be half the woman she knew she could be with him.
We’d still be alive.
We would, Baylee assured Sheba as she felt the entity’s rising discomfort. We would live and we would mourn. Raise our children, watch the years pass us by. And we’d be alone, Sheba. We couldn’t share a bed with another man, we’d grow old with only each other for company. Sentence our children to the same fate.
Her children would never be accepted here if Baylee didn’t find a way to make Daxon’s family see her for what she was. Not as a mutation, not as an anomaly, but as a woman who needed to be with her man, desperate for family, to be loved instead of feared, hated, shunned.
She needed to find Daxon. If he managed to change his family’s opinion on her around—Saxa the rabid bitch sister excluded—maybe there was hope for her. If not...well, it was a hellish hike back to Montana but she could make it. She could go home.
The squeak of a door and sudden bright, glaring light interrupted her thoughts. Automatically she brought her hand up to shield her eyes and felt bruised muscles ping and pull with the movement.
“Oh wonderful! You’re awake, and sooner than anticipated. That’s a very good sign.” A soft, melodious voice stroked over Baylee’s skin like a reassuring caress, but she couldn’t see the woman behind it. “I’d like to assure you, Baylee, you’re in capable hands and you’re safe here. My name is Zara, I’m the medic for the valley community.”
“Dax?”
The door closed, shutting off the annoying glare, and Baylee saw the outline of a tiny figure in the dim room lights. The light glinted off shiny blonde hair. “Daxon will be along shortly. He had to see to some clan business with his father.”
“They’re deciding what to do with me.” Baylee said flatly, and sighed. She wished for something to drink, something cold and fresh to alleviate the desert-dry sensation in her mouth.
A small, warm hand covered hers. “Don’t worry. Daxon loves you, I’ve seen it. He’ll no more allow Shax to hurt you than he would do so himself. He can be a stubborn man when pushed and is a fair match for Shax. They’ll bump heads but you’ll be fine.”
Too much had gone wrong since she’d come to this place for Baylee to believe her, despite Zara’s unwavering confidence. She closed her eyes and said nothing.
“You took a couple good knocks to the noggin,” Zara segued easily. “You’ll likely feel a little off for a couple days, light-headed, sick, some blurred vision. Have you shown any signs of morning sickness yet?”
“No,” Baylee said wearily.
“They’ll come,” Zara responded cheerfully. Her fingers moved to Baylee’s wrist, monitoring her pulse. “I’d like to give you a full examination, make sure you’re fit and healthy. Pregnancy in shifters is just as testing on the body as it is for mortals—probably more so what with our tendency for multiple litters.”
Not a cat in hell’s chance. “Not happening.” Baylee drew the blanket further up to her chin, using it as a shield.
“Baylee—”
“Not. Happening.” She knew her body well enough to know when things weren’t right. She didn’t need a perky blonde-bobbed medic to feel her up for that.
Zara held her hands up in plain sight. “Okay, we’ll discuss it when you’re not feeling as vulnerable. You don’t know me and, from what Daxon said, you’ve had a rough time. Not everyone here is against you,” she added in a gentle tone. “We know what we are as a species; we know our lore and history back to the First. You’ve just shattered everything we thought we knew about ourselves.”
“Do you think I wanted this? I’m thirty years old and spent my whole life in a small town where one man’s business is common knowledge. I work hard, I have my own business. I may not have had a man before Daxon came along, but I was happy.” To a degree, she corrected herself.
In the dim lighting, Baylee could only just read the shock on Zara’s face. The woman’s voice dropped to below a whisper, so quiet Baylee strained to hear the words. “You were a virgin at the age of thirty?”
“Yes.” Baylee snapped defensively. “And?”
“I’m not judging.” Hastily, Zara patted her patient’s hand. “It’s just...around here, that’s unheard of. Females are usually mounted during their first heat.”
Unease filtered through Baylee’s system. “Which is when?”
“Most females become sexually mature and reach their initial heat at around seventeen. There have been instances of younger females coming into season earlier.”
“How much younger?”
“The youngest recorded was thirteen.”
Baylee choked on bile. She tried to hold it back, couldn’t, and twisted herself over to vomit profusely. No. “That’s rape. For God’s sake, that’s raping a child.”
“We don’t abide by the time constraints of outside society. If a female is in heat, she is bred. Continuation of the line is paramount to our survival and, although you seem to have taken surprisingly quickly, it can sometimes take years for a pregnancy to take. Your cubs will be the first to be born within the valley in three years.”
They will not be born here! Sheba’s tone spoke of murder.
Fully in agreement, Baylee rolled onto her back and wiped at the tears on her face. Barbaric. This was no civilized culture; they were no better than the beasts they shared bodies with. Her heart broke when she thought of how Daxon had wanted so badly for her to be here. How he’d brought her here, knowing their children grew inside her and fully aware of the fate that awaited their daughters in the years to come.
“Who...”
“Who are the lucky men?” Zara finished easily, apparently oblivious to the maelstrom of emotion she’d invoked inside Baylee. “If the female hasn’t already got her eyes on a male, one is chosen for her from willing candidates.”
Ah, Baylee thought, so the men had the choice to be willing in the rape of underage girls. Wasn’t that always the way? A horrible question came to mind and although the answer had potential to tear her apart, she couldn’t stop the words spilling from her mouth. “Daxon? Was he a willing candidate?”
“He was chosen, yes.” Zara smiled fondly and it sickened Baylee beyond belief. Zara moved away to the door and suddenly the lights came on at full brightness. “Sorry, I can’t see your expressions very well. I’m not sure I should tell you this, given your current condition.”
Baylee snorted derisively. “What, the pregnancy or the concussion?”
“Both. Either. Daxon was chosen to be my lover. Our fathers are as close as brothers and it was decided that a merging of the families could only be beneficial for the clan. Their ideal outcome of the breeding was, of course, a litter and a true mating, tying us and our lines together. Sex between our kind is just sex until a true mate is found,” she explained.
“How old were you?” It burned her throat as harshly as the acid she’d thrown up.
Zara walked to the sink, drenched a cloth in water and returned to press it to Baylee’s forehead. Baylee slapped it away. The coldness was relief incarnate but damned if she wanted anyone in this fucked up place touching her. “I was born the same year as Saxa. We are three years younger than Daxon. She was mad as a wet hen when I came into heat
at fifteen; she had to wait almost another two years.”
Eighteen. Daxon had raped a fifteen-year-old girl when he was eighteen. An adult who knew right from wrong.
“The problem was, Dax refused to do the deed, much to our fathers’ raging disappointment. Shax went into a fury so volatile half the valley evacuated for a whole calendar month until his temper cooled. He never did give a reason why,” Zara continued, looking vaguely puzzled. “In the end, I was given to one of the Council leaders. A good man, a kind one who didn’t hurt me as others would have, but with no fire, no passion.”
Wait, what? “Daxon didn’t...”
“No.” The blonde assessed Baylee with sharp blue eyes. “You’re looking pale, honey. Let’s move you somewhere more comfortable and get some food into you. You can rest then and wait for Daxon to come for you.”
Staggered by the punch of relief, Baylee only nodded in agreement. The man she loved had proven himself to be more of a man than any of the other cowards in this community. How easy would it have been for him to sleep with the pretty blonde at eighteen? She remembered the hormones coursing through her blood at that age, compulsions she’d managed to ignore.
Would she have given in to peer pressure at that age? If her father—God rest his soul—had been alive to push her into sex, would she have obeyed him or stood her ground? She had an awful feeling she’d have bowed under the strain.
Her daughters, her sons, would not be put under the same pressure. Baylee vowed it on the blood running through her veins, blood she would spill to the last drop to keep the promise. They would not fall to archaic practices, forced to grow up well before their time because of a goddamn menstrual cycle. To keep that vow, she was going to have to run.
Chapter Sixteen
Negotiations with Shax over Baylee’s future in the community took hours. Dax knew it took hours because he kept track of each and every one of them, his frustration at being separated from his mate becoming more tangible as the minutes fluttered past.
Shax’s demands were, for the most part, incredulous. From keeping her under house arrest until the cubs were born and then using them as an incentive to make sure Baylee stayed in line, to walking her around on a collar and leash.
Daxon was dominant of nature, as many of his clansmen were, but collaring his mate in such a manner was against everything he believed in. Captivity for a big cat was a death sentence; it would be no different for Baylee, trapped with Sheba inside the same shell.
And so they argued, father and son, clan leader and clan heir, over the rights of a young woman who had no idea how valiantly her mate defended her.
“I’m giving you two options, my lad. Choose one or I will.”
Exhausted by the constant battle of words, the petty digs and sly stabs in the back, Daxon fought to keep his spine straight, his eyes and brain clear and on the lookout for traps. Shax wouldn’t hesitate to lead him into one, son or not, and close the steel jaws over his leg to hold him. “Both options are unacceptable. She is a person, a woman, who has done nothing to harm anyone here.”
“Not the way Salvador sees it,” Shax retorted. “Girl got her teeth into him good and proper.”
“Defending me,” Daxon growled back. “Tristan’s underhanded tactics brought her down on their heads. They should assume as much of the blame as Baylee, if that’s the way you want to play it.”
“Nevertheless, she attacked clan members. She’s knocked the security team down by one, a talented warrior. That alone warrants punishment.”
Dax rolled his eyes. “Salvador’s an idiot. His favored form is a sheep, for fuck’s sake. A sheep. Everyone else has the common sense to choose a form that has some clout behind it, but Salvador chooses one that’s more likely to bound off over the hills at the first scent of danger.”
“We all have our favorite forms,” Shax said in a cool tone.
“Yeah, and we make sure we have teeth and claws to attack or defend.”
“This is not the point. You have brought a potential threat into our midst. I should kill you both. So your choices are this: turn her over to Zara for a full medical assessment so we can try figure out this clusterfuck you’ve brought upon us, or I will give her to Tristan and his brothers to do as they wish. As long as she’s dead by the time they’re done with her, I don’t care.”
Disgusted, Daxon clenched his fists. “You’re a vicious bastard, Shax.”
“Be thankful for it. A pussy leading the clan would have resulted in our extinction long ago. Making hard choices, executing final decisions, is part and parcel of leadership. There can be no sentimentality, no weakness, no bias. You’d do well to learn that lesson, boy. I’ve been trying to teach you it for years.”
Sick of the conversation, Daxon rose. “Everything I’ve learned, I learned from you. The difference is my sense of morality came from Mother.”
Shax waved him away. “Get on to bed with you, boy. If that girl of yours isn’t back with Zara by ten a.m., Tristan will be round for her at ten-oh-one. Believe me when I say you don’t want that to happen. He likes the pretty young ones.”
Sickened, Dax shook his head in disgust and walked away, striding out into the clear night sky without pause. He breathed deep of cold, fresh air and made his way toward Zara’s cabin. It might be gone midnight but he was beyond caring.
He hammered on the wooden door, knowing Zara would be awake—she never slept with the lights on and hers were blazing brightly into the darkness. When the door opened, he stepped inside without invitation. “She okay?”
“Baylee is fine. A little sickness earlier but nothing to worry about. Reena and I have kept her company; she’s eaten a couple of bowls of chicken broth which so far has stayed down. She’s just dozing now but I’m sure she’ll—”
“Dax? Daxon?” Baylee called out.
“—be bright as a button once she knows you’re here,” Zara finished dryly. She gestured toward her living room. “We moved her into the warmth while we got the med room cleaned up.”
Impatient, Dax walked past her and into the room where his lover tried to push herself up from the sofa she laid on. He was beside her in an instant, easing her back and kissing her like he’d dreamed of doing the entire time he’d spent battling with Shax.
“Brother, get a room.”
He broke the kiss and simply leaned his forehead against Baylee’s, drawing comfort from her. Her arms wound around him, holding him close. “Reena, I love you but go far, far away.”
His sister laughed. “I’m here on Mother’s orders, Daxon.”
He turned to face her, his youngest sister and one of the sweetest souls he’d ever known. She carried the Gillies genes perfectly; their mother’s face had imprinted best of all on Reena, and her eyes were an intense shade of green even he envied. Her black hair, all four feet of it, had the vaguest tint of red running through it in the long braid she habitually wore.
“I’m here now,” he said, both to Reena and to Baylee. “I’m taking Baylee home. I appreciate you—both of you—taking care of her while I’ve been gone.” He cast his gaze toward Zara but couldn’t meet her eyes, not knowing that in only a few hours, she’d be pulling his mate to pieces to find what made her tick. “It’s been a long day and we both need to rest.”
Zara smiled. “You’re more than welcome to stay here for the night, Daxon. Baylee really shouldn’t be moved.”
Did she know? he wondered bitterly. Did his old friend already know what his father had ordered? The price it would cost them for Baylee to be accepted? The worst of it all was, he couldn’t pay the price for her. Couldn’t lift that burden from her fragile shoulders and spare her the pain, the humiliation of what was to come.
“Thanks but we’re going home.” He wanted Baylee in his bed, their bed, where he could see to her every need without ears listening in. He scooped her up, blanket and all, aware she was naked beneath it.
Frowning, Zara stepped aside. “Well I guess if you insist. Make sure she gets sleep and
keep her well-fed. Light food only; broth or soup would be best. And absolutely no shifting. A simple concussion could turn into something more drastic.”
“Yes, boss.” Daxon’s heart lifted when Baylee curled into him, tucking her face into his neck so her warm breath wafted over his skin. “Goodnight.”
Reena and Zara followed them to the door, their quiet goodnights sliding through the quiet night.
Everything was still, not even a breath of wind to stir the leaves in the trees. The cabins they passed were mainly dark, with only one or two still showing signs of life.
“It didn’t go well, did it?” Baylee murmured against his skin.
He hugged her closer, his guilt overwhelming. “No, baby. No, it didn’t.”
“He’s going to kill me, isn’t he? That’s what he wants, your father. He wants me dead, and his perfect little valley set back to rights.”
Daxon nuzzled at her. His mate hadn’t even met his father and yet she understood him. She was a miracle. “He can’t always get what he wants, Baylee. I’ll make damned sure of it this time.”
She fell silent for a moment as he turned and headed for his cabin. “Why didn’t you tell me about the girls, Dax?”
“The girls?”
“The underage girls who get raped on their first heat.”
Oh shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Daxon’s chest tightened with panic. “Who the hell told you about that?”
“Zara. She very kindly told me all about what happens when the chosen male rapes his female. Years of tradition and all that crap.”
“That was not hers to tell.” Daxon would make sure she knew it. “That...tradition is out of date and barbaric. It’s been that way since the clans were formed. I’ve always hated it, and it’s my goal in life to end it once I take over leadership.”
“Is that why you wouldn’t...with Zara?”
God, that bitch just couldn’t keep her mouth shut. He’d locked that time away, several layers deep with a concrete lid to keep the shit from coming back. Obviously that hadn’t worked. “Zara and I have been friends for a long time. Her father and mine wanted us to be together, like you and I are now. Bonded, preparing to welcome cubs. I was eighteen, horny, prepared to fuck anything.
Wild: Hangman's Haunt Book 1 Page 23