by Odessa Lynne
He’d never felt anything like it before, as if Five’s sense of danger had become his own.
He quickly scanned the woods, but didn’t see anything that warranted the feeling of disquiet that had rushed over him. Without much thought, he put more of his back to Five and watched the trees to the left, away from the building.
“What’s—”
Five put his hand on Mason’s arm and shook his head.
Mason shut his mouth and squinted into the distance, but as far as he could see, nothing had changed.
Another moment passed, the only sounds the chirp of a bird and the hum and song of insects in the forest around them.
Cord turned. “Francis needs help.”
Five’s claws came out. “Protect my mate.”
“Gray is already on his way.”
“Gray isn’t close enough. Have him return here.” Without any further discussion, Five raced away from Mason and Cord, disappearing into the forest with only a quiet rustle of undergrowth to tell Mason where he was headed.
“Come,” Cord said. He started a careful walk in the direction Mason and Five had been headed in earlier.
Mason followed, but only after a long look over his shoulder at the last place he’d seen Five. “How do you know Francis is in trouble?”
“He told me.”
“You have communications tech on you?” Mason hadn’t seen anything, but that didn’t mean much when it came to the wolves’ advanced technologies. Even humans could implant tech. They didn’t, not often, not anymore, but it was possible. He wouldn’t do it, not knowing the little bit of history he remembered and what had happened in some place called Ontario all those years ago, but some people still braved it.
Ontario was the kind of story people told around a campfire to scare the shit out of everybody. Mason could still remember the way Tiffany Carter had curled up against his chest the first time he’d heard it. He’d gotten his first real kiss that night, three months after the wolves came—notable because it hadn’t been from Tiffany, but her older sister Megan. The experience was forever tainted with the knowledge that she’d thought he was Marcus, something he hadn’t discovered until she’d put her hand on his dick and whispered “Marcus” into his ear.
The worst part was that he’d let her keep touching him until guilt had finally eaten a hole in his gut and he’d hauled her hand out of his pants, zipped up, and left his and Marcus’s tent without explaining anything.
He had let Marcus do the explaining later.
Cord ignored Mason’s question. He held back a thick tangle of thorny vines that had lost most of their leaves and gestured for Mason to pass through. “This way.”
Mason went. Cord followed.
The building loomed ahead, shadowing the forest.
They were less than twenty feet from the tree line when Mason saw the wolf leaning back against an old birch tree with peeling bark. The wolf pushed away from the trunk and walked toward them, his eyes on Mason.
“Stop here,” Cord said from behind him.
Mason stopped. He didn’t take his eyes off the approaching wolf; he knew trouble when he saw it coming. There was something there in that wolf’s bold gaze, something that told Mason he was being challenged.
“Where’s Alpha?” the wolf said, his gaze turning lazily toward Cord.
Mason had been dismissed; he knew it, and that wolf knew it.
“Francis ran into a pack of rogues,” Cord said.
The wolf’s eyes flickered toward the woods behind Mason and Cord. “It was dangerous of him to leave this one with you.”
“This one has a name,” Mason said.
“I know your name,” the wolf said, his gaze flickering in Mason’s direction, “but my comment wasn’t meant for you.”
“He’s worried your scent will overcome the drugs and trigger my heat,” Cord said. “It’s a valid concern. I’m… between mates at the moment.”
His pause and the look that passed between him and the other wolf told Mason there was more to that story.
Mason continued to watch the unknown wolf. “Which one are you? Rain?”
“Jordan.”
Mason gave him a sharp nod.
Jordan had already returned his attention to Cord. “Alpha could have chosen anyone he wanted for a mate. He even had the opportunity to mate someone of First Alpha’s line. And he chose this one. This human doesn’t understand the honor of that, and his lack of affection for our alpha is an insult to all of us.”
“What the hell,” Mason said. “I’m right here.”
But even as Mason spoke, Cord reached out with remarkable speed and yanked Jordan forward by his throat.
Mason jerked, staggering several steps backward.
Blood trickled from puncture wounds at Jordan’s neck where Cord’s claws bit into his skin.
“Apologize, Jetarikeille.” Cord’s voice was a tightly controlled weapon.
“I won’t apologize for speaking the truth all of us feel. He’s—”
Cord’s hand visibly tightened around Jordan’s throat.
Jordan struggled to breathe. He wrapped his fingers around Cord’s wrist but didn’t actually seem to be trying to pull away.
Mason glanced over his shoulder. Bolting was probably not a good idea, no matter how tempting the thought was at that moment.
“He’s human,” Cord said, “and we’ll make allowances for his lack of knowledge of our ways.”
“He isn’t worthy of—”
“You will submit, or I’ll tear out your throat in Alpha’s stead.” Cord sounded like he meant it, too. “Now, submit.”
The word had power—literal power, because Mason felt it into his bones.
The worry that had been building in the back of his brain blossomed into panic and he turned, not knowing where to go or what to do. He leaned over, resting his hands on his knees, his stomach clenching. A cold sweat swept across his skin and the edges of his vision grayed to almost black.
He was going to be sick.
He dropped to one knee.
The sudden feel of hands on him, under his arms, pulling him up, shocked him almost as much as the bare hand pushing under the bottom edge of his t-shirt did.
“Something’s wrong with him.”
“Are you okay?”
Cord’s voice, and Jordan’s. Both sounding confused and concerned.
Mason locked his knees and took a deep breath, then in the next second, jerked away from the arms offering him support. “Get away from me. Both of you. Don’t touch me.”
A tense silence followed, and then another voice from behind them, “He’s confused.”
Startled, Mason turned to see another member of Five’s pack standing under the knotty branch of an old pine tree. The wolf had his arm stretched above his head, his hand resting on the branch, and he was watching Mason with narrow, shadowed eyes.
Cord straightened away from Mason, pulling Jordan back with him. “Do you know what’s wrong with him?”
“I hear him. His communications are scattered. Weak. But he wants me to know he’s afraid.”
The other wolves shared a glance that chilled Mason. The cramp in his stomach returned in full force.
He rubbed his hand across his mouth, wiping sweat off his upper lip. “Tell me what’s happening to me. You fuckers are doing something to my head. I know it. I can feel it.”
The newly arrived wolf said, “Alpha will tell you what he wants you to know.”
“But you know?”
“I have a suspicion. We’ll know soon enough.”
“Then tell me!”
“Alpha will decide.”
“You goddamn—” But he couldn’t continue as anger rose with such a fiery heat inside him that he lost the ability to speak.
He turned around and slammed his fist into the side of the tree behind him. It was a goddamned idiot thing to do, and in the instant his knuckles made contact and he felt the crack of bone, he recognized that fact.
Too late for his hand—or his self-respect.
Chapter 20
Mason had never been one to lash out physically when he lost his temper, so it was almost with surprise that he looked down at his bleeding knuckles and the dark bruise forming on the back of his right hand near his pinky and realized exactly what he’d done.
“Shit,” he said, just as feeling rushed back into his hand.
A sharp, nerve-stabbing pain stole his breath, severe enough that he felt it all the way into his knees.
“Oh fucking—fuck—” he gasped out, doubling over and cradling his hand to his chest.
Hands gripped Mason’s shoulders, pulling him up and turning him.
“Let me see,” Cord said.
Mason tried to knock Cord away using his uninjured arm. “Leave me the fuck alone.”
Jordan gripped Mason’s forearm and pulled, using his superior strength to overcome Mason’s resistance. Cord took hold of Mason’s wrist.
“He broke his hand,” Cord said.
The other wolf, the one Mason still didn’t have a name for, approached. “Weketekari isn’t going to be pleased.”
“With any of us,” Cord said, staring pointedly at Mason.
Mason winced. “You think I don’t regret this?”
“What’s done is done. Your regret isn’t going to save any of us from Alpha’s wrath.”
“Well thanks for that goddamn platitude,” Mason snapped. He tried to pull his arm back.
Jordan held firm and Cord gave Mason a sharp, disapproving look.
“Gray,” Cord said. “Your shirt.”
As names went, Gray wasn’t so bad. The until-then unnamed wolf sighed but stripped off his shirt without any further complaint.
Mason breathed hard through his nose. “Won’t it just heal, like that cut did?”
“Even we have to set our bones before we can expect them to heal properly.”
“Oh, no no—don’t you—fuck!”
Something in his hand snapped with an unpleasant pressure, and pain sparked bright and sharp, only to fade to a dull ache almost as quickly as it had come.
It reminded him of the moment he’d sliced his arm open on the barbed wire fence when he’d wrecked the ATV. At the time, he’d thought the intense pain had faded so quickly because of shock, but now… he wasn’t sure. The cut had continued to hurt—he remembered that clearly enough. And when Rock and Lavi had gotten hold of him, they’d managed to make it hurt a whole lot worse, but…
He tried moving his fingers. Pain sparked again, intense enough to make him suck in his breath, but the feeling eased into a slow, deep throb too quickly to be normal.
Mason glanced up at Cord. “Is this what it’s like for you guys?”
“I don’t understand your question.”
“The pain. It should be worse than this. This isn’t the first time I’ve had my hand broken—well, my wrist, but close enough. It should hurt—shit! What are you—” He tried to pull away again.
Cord used Gray’s t-shirt to take another swipe across Mason’s bloody knuckles. “I’m going to bind your hand for the moment. But if your broken bone doesn’t heal properly, we’ll have to break it again.”
Mason gritted his teeth and held his hand steady.
Cord did exactly what he’d said: he tore off a strip of Gray’s black t-shirt and wrapped it around Mason’s hand, too tight for comfort. Mason winced as Cord tied the ends into a secure knot, but the throbbing pain eased quicker than Mason expected.
As soon as Cord finished and released Mason’s hand, Jordan released Mason’s arm and stepped back.
“He’s already slowing us down,” Jordan said. “Now this. And his scent—” Jordan sniffed carefully of the air and his lip curled. He turned his head away.
“I didn’t ask to come on this goddamned mission,” Mason said.
“But you are here,” Cord said. Then to Jordan, “If the drugs are weakening—”
“They aren’t.” Jordan took another step back. “Alpha’s mark is enough—for now.”
Still, Cord looked as uneasy as Mason felt after that, and if Mason had been asked his preference, he would not have been walking ahead of any of them as they continued through the forest toward the front of the biolab building.
He wasn’t allowed that choice, though, and had to feel Cord’s gaze boring into the back of his head the entire way.
Gray had taken the lead, headed toward the building’s front entrance where Mason assumed they would meet up with Lake. It didn’t make a lot of sense to Mason, their path through the woods parallel to the tree line, but he assumed the wolves had a reason for choosing to stay under the cover of the trees for as long as possible.
Earlier, Five had said he and Mason would enter the lab with Jordan, Rain, and Cord, so Mason knew there was another wolf somewhere nearby who hadn’t made himself known yet. Mason had glimpsed him earlier, but all he’d noticed was that Rain was a perfectly average wolf. Tall, but not too tall—definitely not as tall as Lake. Dark, short hair, fit and lean.
Nothing at all to distinguish him from any other wolf as far as Mason had seen. The same as Jordan, and the same as Cord.
Only Cord had a certain something about him that made Mason think he could be counted on to keep his temper in check even when he was angry, and Jordan had already proven he didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut. Lake had shown himself capable of knowing what needed done and doing it without being told, and Gray seemed ready to lead at a moment’s notice.
The idea that the wolves were indistinguishable from one another was as far from the truth as possible.
Mason followed along through the prickly underbrush, looking back often enough to get a curious look from Cord.
The next time Mason had the urge to look behind him, he didn’t let himself do it. Five would return when he returned and not a moment sooner. Looking back wasn’t going to make a goddamned bit of difference.
It pissed him off that he couldn’t shake the niggle of worry that seemed to have burrowed its way into his brain, just like whatever it was that was making him heal was burrowing its way into him in other, more insidious ways. Something was happening to him and he couldn’t explain it, and goddamn him if he was going to just let it happen.
Five was a wolf, and an alpha at that. He could handle himself.
Mason, on the other hand—
Jordan released a spindly pine branch full of prickly needles too close to Mason’s face.
Mason shoved it aside with great prejudice and said, “I should have a weapon.”
“And yet you do not,” Cord said.
Mason heard a low thwap as Cord caught the limb Mason had just released.
“And yet you do not,” Mason muttered. “You fucking smartass.”
“You are Alpha’s mate. We’ll protect you from humans—and if there are other rogue wolves, a weapon would only encourage you to make a foolish mistake. Submission is your only safe course of action.”
“So what you’re saying is that I’m both too stupid to do the smart thing and incapable of taking care of myself. No wonder your pal is pissed that your alpha wants me for his mate. Talk about being a goddamned lucky bastard, right?”
“Your perception’s flawed. But if that’s how you want to perceive my words, you’re free to do so. It won’t change the truth as I experience it.”
“What is the truth?”
“Perception alters truth just as the choices we make alter fate.”
“Forget I asked,” Mason said and used his left arm to block another pine branch about to smack him in the face.
He raised his voice at Jordan’s back, “Would you stop being such a fucking asshole and try a little harder not to break my nose?”
Jordan hesitated, glancing over his shoulder. His gaze skimmed Mason from head to toe. “I assumed you were capable of moving quickly through the forest. I apologize. It seems my assumption was mistaken.”
“Oh you fucking—”
The firm hand
on Mason’s shoulder tensed the few muscles in his body that weren’t already tense but effectively stopped him from saying more.
Cord spoke, his voice quiet and low. “He means what he said. If your injury is making it hard for you to make your way without assistance, I can help you.”
“I can handle it.”
Cord didn’t look like he believed Mason.
Mason shrugged off Cord’s hand. “I said I can handle it.”
Cord gestured for Mason to resume walking.
Jordan also took that as his cue to turn away and resume his walk.
Mason followed, and this time, Jordan made his way through the thick growth of pines with more care.
When they reached the outer edges of the partial clearing around the biolab building, Mason started looking around more carefully. He’d been watching his step for a while, because of the number of fallen limbs—the storms the night before last had been big enough to leave behind some wind damage—and because the ground was soft and dead trees left behind big holes a man could break an ankle stepping into.
“There should be a pair of binoculars around here,” he said over his shoulder. “I tossed them coming out of the building. If they’re still here, I’m taking them. Damn things are worth a fortune.”
He could trade the binoculars for a reasonable supply of halfgas. Gillie and his mom could use the halfgas to supplement the solar power running the generators and maybe winter wouldn’t be so miserable this year.
Then again, with two fewer people using up the power reserves, this winter might not be so miserable even without the halfgas.
The wood stove kept the house warm, but it didn’t run the water recycler nor the locks or the alarms. Fucking thieves were everywhere when they thought you had something they didn’t because your house was bigger than theirs.
That unwelcome thought was enough to darken his mood.
Where would he and Marcus be come winter?
He didn’t know. Marcus had obviously come to some kind of decision about that wolf of his, while Mason suspected Five was going to be just as stubborn about Mason sticking around after heat season as Mason planned to be about leaving.
Gray’s stride halted abruptly and he turned toward the woods nearest the burned out walls. “Alpha’s returning. He has a human with him.”