Pack Mentality

by Idella Breen

  “Stupid bitch. Let’s see if any of them want you now,” Art laughed. He sounded crazed, she thought even as tears streamed down her face. They added to the burn. She was going to die at the hands of a crazy man.

  The metal holding her dropped to the floor with a loud yet lyrical clang. Gwen was dropped to the cold concrete and the slamming of the metal bars of her cell was the sound that left her as she curled into herself and tried to breathe through the pain. Soon, soon this would all end, she thought. Soon she wouldn’t have to suffer anymore. Her tears continued to burn the wound he’d left and somehow the pain in her heart was greater still.

  Ghosts, Art thought. They stood as ghosts among men. Lined in long rows, ready to fall like tin soldiers at his command, and command them he would, and fall they would, and yet he, he would rise above the bloodied mud and stand among them as a god, victorious and untouchable. He was born to command, born to lead, born to rule, and obey they would or they would fall at the hands of his men. Art looked out at the battlefield where his clan and allies stood waiting, waiting for his signal. He would lead from behind like all good rulers and Remus Lander would fall. The land he wanted will be his and then Art would deal with Death and his so-called night reapers. Art feared no one. He will not fall today, nor will he fall tomorrow, he thought to himself. He will live forever. An eternal king, he thought, and he liked the sound of it more then he cared to admit.

  Warmth. It was the first thought Gwen had when she became aware of the world around her again. Her eyes refused to open but her body hung loosely around another. Just warmth and the soothing scent of jasmine. It was familiar but she couldn’t place it. Darkness welcomed her again.

  Sam stood next to Keith, who stood next to Remus, and he couldn’t help the feeling of frustration. He should be the right hand. He should be next to Remus on this battlefield supporting his alpha but now wasn’t the time for such thoughts. Sam adjusted the blade at his side. It was made of silver and he hated to admit that he feared to wield it.

  Sam straightened his shoulders as Remus regarded them all. Now they waged war, now they fought for their way of life, now they fought until it was over. It would be over soon. Sam believed it would all be over much too soon and that’s what scared him. They were outnumbered.

  He met Remus’s gaze and saw no fear. Remus could’ve commanded them to fight to the death, yet before the battle, he’d asked those who didn’t wish to fight to stay behind to protect their homes. Several had walked away in shame but Remus hadn’t ridiculed them. He’d nodded his respect. Sam turned to see the front lines of the McCloud’s in the distance. They would fight and if they won, if he lived through this then while he licked his wounds he could try to find it within himself to stop running away. He was very tired of running.

  Remus was losing. The Lander’s were losing and he knew it was because Gwen was missing. He could command his men but she would have given them the valor they needed to face these odds. Art outnumbered them. Keith had said it was two to one. They’d known he would. Now Remus was watching his clansmen fall one after the other. Their blood flowed like a river in the mud as rain poured down on them. Remus was losing. Until suddenly, he wasn’t.

  A loud smacking of skin on skin broke the tense silence and Silvia accepted it as she gingerly touched her cheek. Jezebel stood in Silvia’s bedroom in McCloud manor with tears of betrayal in her eyes and Silvia accepted that as well.

  “Traitor,” she accepted the harsh but true words.

  “Take her, quickly, before they realize that she’s gone.”

  “Is that all you have to say for yourself,” Jezebel asked.

  “No, but it’s all I have time to say.”

  “I’ll never forgive you, Silvia.”

  Silvia nodded and accepted it. It was all she could do. Silvia knew that in life there were two types of heroes. There were the public heroes and then there were the shadow heroes. Many refer to the public heroes as the courageous ones while the shadow heroes were regarded as cowards. This, she believed to not be entirely accurate. Public heroes often became martyrs while shadow heroes carried on to live another day.

  Once, when Silvia was young and her mother still alive, her mother had told her that, “Heroes died young, while cowards lived to fight another day.”

  Silvia had always known she was a coward. She’d rather be a coward if it meant she could keep all her loved ones alive. Martyrs gave people the courage to fight but once they died the ones left alive had to find that courage within themselves and often times they couldn’t.

  Shadow heroes worked behind the scenes and carried on living while making the difficult and often times soul-crushing decisions of who they would sacrifice to help others live, what would they give to keep others alive. Silvia had decided to walk the path of a shadow hero the day her brother was born and though she was filled with many regrets she wouldn’t hesitate to make all the same decisions.

  “Take her, Jezebel, and go.”

  So she did. They left, and Silvia knew she had to move to finish what she’d begun. Transforming into her demon form she stood majestically with fur as white as snow and eyes a deep red, on each side of her snout were her purple jagged stripes and she wagged two tails as she took to the sky. As she raced towards the battlefield she belatedly realized that she would have hesitated to make this last decision. She would have hesitated but she would have still made it all the same. That was the way a shadow hero lived. It was the fine line that they walked. She was a coward but she was a coward that kept people alive and she would live a life with a tainted soul if it meant others could be happy. She had needed Art to take Gwen. By allowing Art to take Gwen she had been able to convince the person she needed to believe her that Art was unstable. Gwen was a sacrifice. She had sacrificed her mate to gain an ally. An ally that would change the tide of war. Yet, she had still sacrificed her mate and that was unforgivable. It was a sacrifice not only for her brother but for all of them, she tried to convince herself of this as she ran faster.

  Silvia would sacrifice it all if it meant she got to keep it all even if it was a little bit broken. Transforming back, she settled between the trees and stood to overlook the carnage in the field below. She wiped the rain from her eyes as she heard the yells and screams of people being sacrificed to a man who’d given into his insanity and wondered once again if any of this had been worth it. She bit into her bottom lip. There would be time to think about her actions later. What’s done is done. Now, all she could do was finish what she began.

  Silvia ran. She ran, and she ran, and the thought hit her once again, how long has she been running straight into danger? When would she ever learn to run away from it? Silvia shook her head and grinned. Cain’s sought out danger like birds sought out water. Danger made her feel alive and it was where she was meant to be. Silvia was the blade that protected without a shield. Her mother had told her to strike first for those who wait will first be struck down. Silvia had always struck first and she has never lost. Yet, even as she found Art standing tall among the dead, she couldn’t help but wonder if by striking first this time she had lost something she could never get back.

  16

  Art was winning. Until suddenly, he wasn’t. He didn’t understand what was happening at first. One moment, his men were advancing on the Lander’s then suddenly a section of them were cannibalizing his ranks. He looked out over the battlefield at his army and saw Kebethi at the head of another section and realized he’d been betrayed. Betrayed! Him! How dare she? He shuddered as Kebethi’s forces mowed over his army, her section of elites cutting them down like weeds, until she’d reached him and while he was distracted with her from the front he felt the bite of silver piercing his chest from behind. Art looked over his shoulder into the icy blues of Silvia eyes.

  “Why?” He gasped

  “Because, I hate you,”she growled.

  Darkness greeted him and he realized, as he fell that he’d lost everything.

  The moderator of the fie
ld blew into a horn signaling the end of the battle. He made his way through the bodies littering the ground and pushed between the soldiers standing still in confusion. He walked over to where Silvia stood with Art’s body at her feet. Kebethi stood next to her. He walked straight up to Silvia and gave a slight bow.

  “You have killed the king. What say you to your vanquished? What is your desire? Do you wish to continue the grievance of land?”

  “No. I resend the McCloud’s grievances. I also name Kebethi as the new alpha of the McCloud Clan,” Silvia gestured to the woman next to her. The moderator nodded and bowed to Kebethi.

  “Understood. State your name.”

  “Kebethi McCloud,”

  He stepped forward and held up her hand, “Kebethi McCloud, you are now alpha of the titled Heavenly Sky Clan. May you lead valiantly and add to the strength of your clan. What say you of your next move?”

  “We will leave this land. We have no grievances here.”

  He nodded and turned towards the battlefield. When he spoke, his voice carried out through the rain and all heard what he said.

  “This land battle has concluded with the death of Art McCloud. The dispute has been resent. The Lander’s will keep their land. The McCloud’s shall leave this land with their new alpha, Kebethi McCloud. That is all.” The moderator then jumped into the sky, wings of powdered snow spread out from his back, and he was gone. Silvia nodded to Kebethi who smirked back.

  “Did you get your woman back?” Kebethi asked.

  Silvia looked away.

  “Well, we do what we do and then we live with it,” Silvia turned back to see the woman holding out her hand. Silvia reached out and gripped her forearm and they shook in the old way. “You are always welcome among the McCloud’s.”

  Silvia nodded then released her grip. “I should go.”

  Remus watched as the night reapers harvested the souls from the dead. His men prevented them from taking the souls of the fallen Lander’s but he felt a sick contentment when they took the soul of Art. Mary, his love, had managed to capture her siblings on the battlefields and draw them into safety. Overall, it had ended as best as it could. The Lander’s kept their land and Art was dead.

  Gwen woke screaming. Warm hands held her down as she kicked and yelled.

  “I can’t breathe!”

  “Gwen! You’re okay! Baby, you’re okay!”

  “I can’t breathe!”

  “Breathe Gwen,” there was a hand on her chest that pushed forcing breath into her lungs. Gwen gasped. She breathed and she gasped and the hand on her chest was warm and safe.

  She finally settled down into the warm arms of Jezebel. “You’re safe.”

  “I’m safe?”

  “You’re safe.”

  “I’m safe,” she said with more conviction this time.

  It took some convincing but Jezebel finally let her see the scar. She felt both numb and an aching sadness as she touched the inflamed wound.

  “It was infected but the nurse gave you something earlier in your IV. The swelling should go down in a few days.”

  Gwen nodded numbly. “I’d like to be alone.”

  “Gwen—”

  “I don’t forgive you, yet.”

  Jezebel’s hand paused from reaching out towards her. She pulled her hand back to her chest and looked down at the bedsheets. “I know,” she whispered quietly.

  Gwen glared at her and gasped in pain at the movement as it pulled at her stitches. “I’m fine,” she said and they both knew it was a lie. Jezebel let her lie and stood leaving her alone.

  Gwen stared out the window at the sunny day. Tears fell before she knew what was happening. She let them fall even as they burned. She cried because it was all she could do, she cried because it was all she wanted to do, and she cried because it was all she had the power to do. Her mates had left her for dead and when she had finally almost been granted it, they’d brought her back. She wanted to hate them, she wanted to never see them again and yet the blood bond changed everything. She could never live a life without them in it.

  For the first time, Gwen felt like the blood bond was more of a chain then the shackles she had worn when she was a captive. She’d always seen the blood bond as something magical, something to be celebrated, and now it felt like poison. Like a curse that was now branded into her very being. Her soul was bound to their’s and there was no way to reverse such a thing. Not only that, their bond was that of lovers. She would never love another. Her wolf would reject them all. Her mates didn’t want her. She was nothing to them. She was expendable once again. When would she learn, Gwen thought as the tears burned her wound. Gwen slept and when she slept she’d wake with a scream in the middle of the night and remember that she was unwanted and unloved.

  Gwen had finally been given a clean bill of health and they allowed her to leave the hospital so long as she took care of the wound that had yet to fully heal. Unsurprisingly, it was Sam that came to take her home. She hasn’t spoken to either Jezebel or Silvia. She’d refused both of them when they came to visit.

  “I was the only one that was free,” he said by way of an explanation and she wondered if he thought she had wanted Remus to come instead of him. He led her to a bench outside of the hospital.

  “I’m glad it was you, Sam.”

  He smiled at her as they took a seat. “Really?”

  She nodded and looked out into the woods surrounding the area. The hospital sat at the top of a hill. A valley dipped below them and tapered off into a wooded area. It was a pleasant view and one she’d been able to enjoy as her hospital room faced it.

  She took in a breath and said, “I’d like to walk home alone, if you don’t mind. But for now, could we sit here for a moment?”

  Sam was quiet as he considered her request. Remus would kill him but right now he felt he owed more to her and if giving her back control over her life helped bring his friend back then he would do whatever he could because the Gwen he knew was gone. He noticed it when he visited her the first time. There was a different look in her eyes. She felt different when he spoke to her. Sure, he understood she’d be shaken up.

  The McCloud’s had her for four days. He didn’t know everything as he hadn’t spoken with Silvia, but Aaron mentioned some things. Sam didn’t know what to expect the first time he visited her. Maybe someone shook up. Maybe he expected her to be teary. What he didn’t expect was to walk into her hospital room and to see a stranger.

  He couldn’t exactly put his finger on it but this Gwen was a different woman altogether. It was like she’d just become something more than she was before and for some reason that scared him. He didn’t know what this Gwen was capable of. She felt stronger, almost dangerous. He was honestly scared to leave her alone. He felt she could do anything. Sam realized he’d been quiet too long and yet he felt she already knew what his answer would be.

  “If that’s what you need.”

  She smiled and rested her hands in her lap. They were quiet for a moment. It was peaceful or at least as peaceful as sitting next to a complete stranger could be because, this Gwen unsettled him more than he cared to admit.

  “They won’t stare,” Sam said as he stared out into the clear sky.

  “They will,” she said and he nodded because they both knew it was the truth.

  After a moment of silence, Sam turned to her and gave a frustrated huff, because even though this new woman was a stranger, she was still his friend and he needed a friend because this Gwen was strong and he wanted to understand it. He wanted to understand her. He ached to understand how she gained this strength because, at this moment, Sam felt like this Gwen could move mountains. “How are you so strong, Gwen?”

  She shrugged. “Why do you think you aren’t?”

  He looked down at his clenched fists. “Because I’m always running away from things.”

  Gwen looked down at his fists and reached out placing her hand on one of them, easing it out into a flat palm that she touched gently. She loo
ked back up into the sky. “Some risks are worth taking so you can truly see what you’re capable of. Otherwise, you find yourself falling with no hope of ever reaching the bottom. That is a fate worse than death. Having no hope? Nothing to dream of or wish for? What’s the point of living if that’s the cage you’ve created for yourself? You know what I say?”

  “What?”

  “I say, take that risk because even if you fail, you’ll learn something invaluable about yourself, but more importantly you’ll finally stop running.” Gwen smiled at him, “It must be exhausting to run without a destination. I know it was exhausting for me. When I finally turned around I realized that there was nothing there. For so long, I had believed I was being chased by some monster only to learn that I wasn’t. I was running from something that didn’t exist. I had been so scared of what I would find behind me. All that was there was life. You can’t run from life, Sam, because you know where that leads you?”

  He shook his head.

  “It leads you right into the hands of death. Then all you’ll have left is regret that you never had a chance to live. That isn’t a fate I would wish on my worst enemy. So Sam, when are you going to finally stop running?” Gwen said as she stood up and dusted her pants off. She pointed to the scar that ran down her forehead and curled around her nose ending at her upper lip. The stitches were still in and the scar was bright red due to the infection that had only begun to clear up. Sam wanted to wince. He could only imagine the kind of pain a silver knife would inflict. It was one of the few materials that could scar a werewolf. Gwen pointed to her wound and smirked turning her once enchanting face into something grisly and unsettling.

  “This will be with me for the rest of my life. It’s physical and it has been branded into my skin. But at least it’s a reminder that I finally stopped running.” Gwen looked down at her hands. The wounds from the chains around her wrists had healed. She was grateful for small blessings. “I gave up you know.”