“He’s not budging,” Alice said eventually. “I think he’s taking his cue from you, Thorn.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Thorn asked, frustrated but trying to keep his tone even.
“Just that you’re not very comfortable right now, and the little one is picking up on it. He has decided that you’re his measure of safety. When you relax, he will too.”
Well, there was no way Thorn could relax with a terrified cub attached to him and two pairs of eyes watching his every move.
“What do you suggest?” He was open to ideas at this point.
Alice and Kira shared a look before Kira spoke. “It may sound unorthodox, but the best thing for the cub right now is to be close to you in an environment you’re very comfortable in.”
There was only one place Thorn felt comfortable these days.
“You’re suggesting I take him home with me?”
“Just until he’s feeling secure enough to change form. Once that happens, and we can introduce other people into his care structure, we can transition him back to the packhouse.”
“Me alone with a cub sounds like a bad idea.”
He tried to gently pry the little one from his chest. That only caused the cub to double down, his claws digging in painfully. “But I guess we don’t have a better option right now, do we?”
“Forcibly separating him from you would be highly traumatizing,” Kira said softly.
“And he seems plenty traumatized as it is,” Thorn agreed as he zipped up his jacket around the cub and pushed slowly to his feet. “I guess I should bring some of this stuff with me?”
Alice started gathering up the blankets and things while Kira reassured Thorn.
“You can call us, day or night. We’ll give you two some space to acclimatize today. But we’ll keep in touch by phone, and be by first thing tomorrow morning to see how things are going.”
“Hopefully he’ll have shifted by then.”
“It takes time,” Alice warned him. “Days, weeks, sometimes even months.”
He knew his face must have shown just how unhappy he was to hear that.
“But we’ll come up with something,” Kira assured him with a small smile. “Just focus on making him feel safe. Things will soon come to rights.”
He felt like they were just placating him, but what could he do? The cub didn’t want to let go, so he was going wherever Thorn went.
It was early afternoon by the time Thorn got the cub home. The little guy’s claws still had a tight grip on him, but Thorn had the sense that he was tiring.
He had a bag of clothes and blankets, and another of food. As he looked them over, he thought about what Kira and Alice had said—that he needed to bring the cub to the place he felt most comfortable. There was only one room in his house that fit that description.
“Alright, my workshop it is.”
He talked to the cub as he walked through the house, hoping that might put him at ease in his new environment.
“I hope you like it here, buddy. This is my favorite place in the whole house. It’s cozy and quiet. You must be tired by now.”
He pushed open the door and switched on the lights, illuminating the workbenches on one side with his half-finished project and the worn couch on the other.
“Let’s get situated and have something to eat. How does that sound for a plan?” He didn’t know about the cub, but he was ravenous.
The cub lifted his head and took a peek around the room.
“I know it doesn’t look like much,” Thorn said. “But I spend a lot of my day in here.” And more nights than he could count. More often than not, he crashed on the workshop couch rather than in his bed.
He settled down onto the couch, setting the bags next to him as he unzipped and shrugged off his jacket. The cub did not like that, whining softly and curling closer.
“Easy, buddy. You hang tight. We’re not going anywhere.”
He pulled a blanket out of the bag next to him, covering the cub with it. There was a pause before the cub squirmed, loosening his grip on Thorn’s shirt.
“That’s it,” Thorn encouraged.
He reached into the other bag for some food. In his leopard form, the cub would have a more limited diet. Thorn searched around until he found a container with some plain shredded chicken. He opened it, showing it to the cub. He could see his little nose twitch at the scent.
He popped a piece into his mouth, exaggerating his chewing. “Yum, that’s tasty. Want some?”
Holding out a piece, he waited to see if the cub would take it. After a long moment, the cub’s nose twitching furiously, he snatched the chicken from Thorn’s fingers and disappeared under the blanket.
Thorn laughed softly and picked up another piece of chicken. The cub pushed his head out from under the blanket, snagged it, and dragged it under with him.
“Nice, huh?”
He checked through the bag, finding a bottle of formula milk tucked in among the rest. Deciding it was worth a try, he took off the lid, shook it, and offered it to the cub.
It seemed like the cub didn’t know what to make of it at first, if his attempt to chew the top was any indication. But he caught on, his hunger and thirst overriding his instincts.
Thorn’s phone buzzed. He silenced it quickly, not wanting to disturb the cub, then answered it.
“Hi, Brax.”
“You’re on speaker with me, Oliver, and Kira. We’ve been thinking it over. We wonder if we should send someone to spend the night at your place. Alice, maybe?”
Thorn tensed at the suggestion. In his lap, the cub stopped drinking, whining softly. Thorn tucked the blanket a little tighter around him and kept his voice low.
“You said that if I relax, he’ll relax. How am I supposed to relax with someone in my space?”
He was a Sentinel—he needed breathing room, somewhere he could go that was away from the pack. If they were all in on top of him…
Another whine from the cub had him cursing softly under his breath as the little leopard huddled under the blanket.
“Sorry, kiddo.”
There was a hurried discussion between the other three on the end of the phone, and then Oliver came on the line.
“We’ll give you some space, Thorn. Call us at any time, day or night. We’ll check in by phone tomorrow morning and plan a visit, if you’re up for it.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
He ended the call before any more could be said, sinking down into the couch.
“Okay under there?”
A little nose poked out, the cub searching around.
“Looking for this?” Thorn asked, nudging the bottle toward him. The cub eagerly seized it and resumed drinking.
“Warm, fed, rehydrated. We’re doing pretty good, aren’t we?” What else did a cub need?
When the little leopard let go of the bottle and yawned widely, Thorn laughed softly.
“And a good night’s sleep to finish.” He glanced around the room. “Of course, what you really need is a little den to bed down in for the night.”
He coaxed the cub into drinking a little more, and then he stood. With one hand securely around the cub, he started searching the room for what he needed. He found a large, empty wooden crate and set it on the floor next to the couch. He piled cushions and blankets inside, building a warm nest. That done, he sat back down on the couch and tried to work out how to get the cub into it.
“See what I’ve got for you?” he murmured. “A nice, cozy bed. Safe and warm.”
The cub yawned again, flashing tiny teeth at Thorn.
“And I’ll be right here next to you the whole time.”
When he tried to lift the leopard off his chest, the little one resisted, digging his claws in.
“Come on, now,” Thorn coaxed. “I made this den just for you.”
He tried again, catching the cub in the middle of another yawn. The leopard’s distraction made it easier, and Thorn set him down in the little pile of blan
kets.
The cub shivered, his eyes watching Thorn anxiously.
“Not going anywhere,” Thorn assured him, reaching a hand down and letting the cub sniff it.
After a moment of staring at him in suspicion, the cub squirmed around and burrowed into the nest of blankets with a low rumble.
“You like that, huh? Yeah, I thought you would.”
Thorn stretched out on the couch, keeping one hand in the makeshift den. He wasn’t surprised when the little leopard cuddled up against him. Within seconds, the cub was asleep.
Thorn shut his eyes and tried to rest. He knew sleep wasn’t likely to come. He was a Sentinel with a vulnerable cub in his care. His every instinct was telling him to protect this child.
Chapter Four
The scrape of the bolt across the door woke Daniel. He feigned sleep, keeping his eyes shut and not moving.
“Wake up, idiot.”
At Jaxon’s taunting tone, he forced his tired eyes open and sat up, wincing as pain lanced across his side. Harrison had been back twice to question him over the days he’d been locked in there. The alpha got angrier and angrier when Daniel refused to speak.
“Always causing trouble,” the omega complained as he stepped into the room. “It’s not that hard, dummy. Keep your mouth shut and your legs open. Harrison didn’t mate you for your intellect.”
He slammed a tray down onto the floor next to the door.
“No food today; Harrison’s orders. They’re out searching again. Be out there until dawn, by the looks of things. You could make it easy on yourself, tell us where you stashed the brat.”
Daniel stared past Jaxon, fixing his gaze on the wall.
“Suit yourself. He’s going to flay the skin off your back when he comes home. You won’t be seeing daylight for a very long time.”
The door slammed shut, the omega’s footsteps fading into the distance.
Daniel eyed the cup of water on the tray. He was desperately thirsty, and it would be a while before Jaxon bothered to bring more. He winced as he stood up, his whole body protesting even that simple movement. After taking a moment to catch his breath, he slowly made his way across the basement to the tray. With a groan of pain, he crouched down and reached for the cup. Grasping it in both hands, he took a long drink. As he went to set the half-full cup down, he spotted something inside it that glinted in the dim light of the basement. Confused, he stuck his fingers into the cup and pulled out a familiar key. It was for the moped that Harrison sometimes let him or Jaxon ride into the nearby town when they needed supplies. They never went alone; he always sent a Protector with them.
He stared at the key for a long moment, then regarded the door. He hadn’t heard the bolt slide back into place when Jaxon left. Could it be…?
He grasped the door handle and pulled. The door swung open. His heart started thumping, his adrenaline kicking in and dulling the pain.
Clasping the moped key tightly in his hand, he stared down the corridor for a long moment. Was this a trick? Would Harrison be waiting for him at the top of the stairs? However it looked, this wasn’t Jaxon doing him a favor. The other omega hated him. What he wanted most was Daniel out of the way. Sammy too. Maybe he saw his chance to get that, if Daniel escaped for good or his attempts to run finally made Harrison furious enough to kill him. It wouldn’t matter much to Jaxon which one it was. But it mattered to Daniel.
Creeping upstairs, he kept his ears and eyes peeled. While most of the pack were out searching for Sammy, there would be at least one alpha and a contingent of betas guarding the house and the pack territory. Still, he had the cover of darkness on his side and, hopefully, the element of surprise.
He made it to the garage without being seen. The moped was ready and waiting by the door, with a full tank of gas. Jaxon had been busy. He wanted Daniel as far away as possible, and there was nothing Daniel desired more at that moment.
Knowing the sound of the engine would be like a red rag to a bull for the guards, he pushed the moped outside and along the tree line as he followed the driveway. Only when he was through the gate and onto the public road did he climb on and start the engine. With any luck, the guards close enough to hear would assume he was just passing traffic.
Seconds later, he was racing down the road, hoping against hope that Sammy was safe. Daniel would find him and, this time, they’d outrun the pack for good.
Daniel didn’t pay any attention to speed limits as he drove, grateful for the darkness of night hiding his movements. By the time the pack learned he was gone, there would be no way to track him.
It took a frustratingly long time to reach the spot where he’d left Sammy. Their frantic flight through the forest in the dark had been driven by instinct and the fear of being caught. Finding the same place by road wasn’t easy. He took half a dozen wrong turns before spotting a familiar tree near the bend of a river. Afraid to abandon the moped, he pushed it along. It was hard going getting the bike across the rough ground, but he knew they’d need it if they were going to get clean away with the pack already on high alert.
His heart ached with relief when he found the place he’d last seen Sammy. He called softly, hoping that the cub hadn’t strayed far. They were near a quiet country road and a farm. When there was no answer to his call, he tried to track Sammy’s scent. It was tricky since so much time had passed. The scent trail was faint, but he caught it and followed.
It led straight to a tall tree right outside the farmhouse. Knowing how Sammy liked to climb, Daniel stripped and shifted, scaling the tree in the hopes of finding him. But though his scent was strong near the trunk and among the high branches, there was no sign of him. And there was another scent, stronger than Sammy’s. A scent that spiked fear through Daniel’s heart. Alpha.
He hurried down, shifting back and throwing on his clothes. He searched in vain for another scent trail to follow. Sammy would never have gone with a stranger, especially an alpha. Yet his scent didn’t travel further than the tree, and the only other scent Daniel got was the alpha’s. Sammy had vanished.
Chapter Five
The cub woke once in the late afternoon. Thorn gave him some more food, then settled him back to sleep. He found himself drifting off as well, only to wake with a jerk when the cub landed on his chest with a cry.
“What?” He tried to sit up and catch hold of the cub at the same time. The leopard cried plaintively and dug his claws in again.
“Okay,” Thorn said, rubbing at his eyes. “I’m up. You’re up. Let’s…” He glanced at the window. It was dark outside. Groaning, he checked his watch.
“It’s the middle of the night, kiddo. Time for little cubs to be fast asleep.”
The leopard just stared at him, flicking his ears this way and that. Thorn listened and worked out what the cub could hear. It might have been quiet inside the house, but the woods outside were a hive of activity at night. Just thinking about it made Thorn restless. As the pack’s Sentinel, their borders were his responsibility. It had been almost four days since he’d last walked them. Too long. Mindful of what Kira had said about his state of mind being reflected in the cub’s, he decided that was something he should tackle. A restless cub and an equally restless alpha weren’t a good combination.
“How about we go on an adventure? I know you’ve been on one of your own, but it might be nice to stretch our legs and get some fresh air.”
He stood and searched around, eventually returning to the bag Alice had packed and tugging out a small, thin blanket. It was just the right size for what he needed—fashioning a sling for the cub so he could keep his hands free while they walked. The little leopard wasn’t too sure about it when Thorn helped him into it. But as soon as Thorn stepped outside, any anxiety about the sling was forgotten as the leopard hunched down into it, only his ears visible over the top. Thorn pressed a reassuring hand to him, but he didn’t think the cub was scared, exactly. More like he was sizing up the new environment.
“You’re safe with me, kiddo,” h
e assured him. “I’ll protect you. These woods are ours. No one and nothing can hurt you.”
He took off walking, continuing to murmur to the cub now and then.
“Hear that? That’s a barn owl. They like to hunt mice and voles and things. Not cubs, though, so you don’t need to worry.”
The cub’s eyes, ears, and nose were visible above the top of the sling, taking in everything as they walked. Thorn’s restlessness eased as he assured himself that nothing along the border had changed. It was the same as it always was.
He noticed the cub squirming more and more as they walked and found a little clearing where he could let him down onto the ground. At first, the cub stood stock still next to him, watching and waiting. But after a moment, he relaxed and raced into the bushes. He emerged a minute later, circling around Thorn’s legs.
“Doing okay down there?” Thorn asked. The cub bumped Thorn’s leg with his head in answer.
Thorn took a seat on a fallen tree trunk and let the cub explore and play. He noticed the leopard kept one eye on him the whole time and would run back to him frequently. Anxious little guy, wasn’t he? Thorn supposed if he’d been abandoned in the middle of nowhere and left to fend for himself, he might be nervous too.
“Ready to go home, kiddo? It’ll be dawn soon. I was thinking some hot milk might be just the thing to warm us up and get us back to sleep.”
The cub could have milk. Thorn, who needed to get back into a normal daytime routine now that his night shifts were over, would be having coffee, and lots of it.
He got his answer a moment later as the cub raced back to him and nudged at his hand. Thorn swooped him up into the sling and settled him securely inside.
“There, that’s better.”
During the walk back, he became suspicious of how quiet his charge had gotten. Just as he reached the house, he realized why: the cub had fallen fast asleep, tucked up inside the sling and curled against Thorn’s chest. With a huff of amusement, Thorn carried him back to the den.
Sentinel (The Lost Pack Book 3) Page 2