Cry Wolf (Pack Heat Book 2)

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Cry Wolf (Pack Heat Book 2) Page 22

by Sam Hall


  “You can get them in to consult, or support, if they’ll go for it,” Finn said. “But we’re going in, all of us.” He looked across at Sylvan. “That’s what we have to do, isn’t it?”

  “Against that fucking thing?” Jack said. “Are you guys mad?”

  The other man nodded. “It’s the only way forward I’ve seen.”

  “So, what, to get my dads and the other guys out of there, I have to take out the Great Wolf?” His brow wrinkled at that. We all shifted in our seats, the bite of the wolf’s fangs still way too fresh in our minds.

  “Take him out?” Sylvan considered the idea and then shook his head. “I don’t think that’s possible. But break the Volken’s hold on him? Well, then you’ve got a massively powerful paranormal creature on a rampage. Ideal time to rescue your people.”

  “Make the calls in the morning, Aaron,” Finn said with a nod. “It’s 2am now, too early to start anything, and we’ll need our wits about us. Let’s head back to bed and try and grab what sleep we can.”

  “Well, you can count us out,” Jack said. “Right, Hawk?”

  “We need to talk this through, as Finn says, before I make any decision,” his partner replied. “C’mon Jules, you look done in.”

  We all did. Now that heart rates had settled, everyone was slumping in their chairs.

  “You coming, Finn?” I said.

  He was the one I was most worried about. Everyone else was unhappy with what was going on, but it was a more general ‘we should do something about climate change’ thing than people we love and cared about being in danger.

  “Just give me a sec,” he replied.

  “Stay for a moment,” Brandon said, leaning down and whispering in my ear. I nodded, squeezing his hand before he pulled away. I waited until all of the guys had gone, picking up the empty beer bottles and taking them to the kitchen. When I sat down beside him, Finn was perfectly still, just staring at the table. He gave nothing away, that’s something I was beginning to realise about my mate. He held everything inside and only let what he thought needed to be expressed out. It was an admirable display of emotional control, but it missed something crucial. He looked up when I put a hand on his arm, his hand moving automatically to remove it.

  “No, Finn,” I said, and covered his hand with mine. He looked into my eyes, the muscles in his arm twitching with the need to remove it. But he didn’t, and in I went.

  I could see now why he didn’t want me in here. The bond was a roaring river, and I was whisked away by it. I felt myself gasp as I was smashed by waves of frustration and anger, the breath catching in my chest and unable to go anywhere as his emotion swamped me, taking all I was as a person and throwing it to one side. He was angry at the matriarchs for sending the men through the gate, at the fucking Volken, at Sylvan for bringing this stuff to our door, and then ashamed that he would respond that way. They were his dads. He’d done as asked and tried his best to forget them, which just pushed his mood lower. While he’d been tugging his forelock, they’d been brutalised over and over. He could have gone through the gate after them. He could have asked the mine guys if they’d heard word. He could have stood up when they sent them into exile, not just stayed there holding his mum’s hand as they filed through the gate. And the other guys. How many had been fed to that fucking wolf thing, their existence winking out in seconds? He’d tried so hard to not ask questions, to keep the side of him down that made the women look at him with appraising gazes, and not face the same fate. His mum had begged and pleaded when it became apparent he’d have similar abilities as Max.

  “Finn...” I said, pulling my hand back and fighting for breath. “Finn, you need to stop.”

  “Can’t. I’ve got to get them back or die trying.”

  “Finn!”

  “I know, I’m a shit mate. I should never have made the offer... I want to be sorry about what happened, but I can’t.” His smile was horrible, a mockery of his former expression. “I should have realised this was never going to work.”

  “Finn, you need to stop. From what I saw, you were a kid when your dads were exiled. That wasn’t your responsibility to stop.”

  “No? And how many men have I sent on their way since, Jules? I don’t know, I’ve lost count. I condemned men, sent them through the gate myself on Kelly’s orders. Mum always said it was a test, to see if I was loyal or not. Well, I passed. I passed and I passed and I passed, and those blokes have ended up in fucking hell because of me.”

  “And because of Kelly and the matriarchs, and everyone else who thinks it’s fine to boot people through a portal because of a difference in opinion. You can’t take this all on, Finn.” He pushed my hand off his arm, breaking the connection. “Finn?”

  He was fairly determined to nail himself to that cross, and nothing I could say would stop him. I stared at my mate for a moment, feeling doubly helpless now that I knew exactly what was going on inside him. I took in all the little signs—the tense set of his shoulders, the play of muscles in his chest as he grew even more wound up, the harsh clench of his jaw, the narrowing of his eyes. I couldn’t tell him it would be OK, because I didn’t know that. I couldn’t talk him around, because he’d done things that were at complete odds to his values and did so to stay here in Sanctuary with his family. I couldn’t stroke him or fuck him out of it. I couldn’t give him a pint of ice cream and sit down with him and watch re-runs of Friends, this was too big. I watched my mate suffer, and I suffered along with him.

  Reach out to him, my Tirian said.

  I have!

  No, reach out to him.

  I looked back at Finn, and then I realised the bond went both ways. He might be able to drown me with his feelings, but I could do the same to him. I stood, and he barely acknowledged my movement. So caught up in his spiral of self-hatred, he didn’t flinch until I’d wrapped my arms around him tightly. I felt the rush of his emotions—now coloured more by anger—and pushed. It kinda felt like pissing in the wind for a moment, but I visualised myself standing within the torrent and then adding to it with my own feelings.

  I held all that I had, felt, knew about Finn in my hands. It was still small and fragile, we didn’t really know each other that well yet, but we would, and I pushed that certainty out. I pushed all the funny superficial things, like the quirk of his smile, the way his eyes grew brighter when he was really touched by something, the sinewy muscles of his forearms when he rolled up his sleeves, the long tapering fingers as they clasped mine. I pushed the confidence he’d shown me when we first met, looking at my skirt, checking me out as he brought in all my stuff. I pushed the care he’d shown in helping me get settled, his many check-ins to make sure I was OK. His quiet, certain push back against the guys when they’d gotten pushy. His advocating for my needs when I was in heat. The feel of his arms around me. The fucking beautiful glow inside him when we’d mated. His Tirian fighting for me when the guys went mad.

  Finn, I said as the emotions raged higher and higher. You did something you hate, but you’re a good guy. I love you, I’ll always love you, and I can’t stand by and let anyone attack someone I love, not even himself.

  It felt like my love was a bomb that exploded out into Finn’s emotional landscape, and for a moment, everything quietened. I could hear my heart hammering in my ears, the sound of my own breath, but that was it. Then, his arms wrapped around me.

  Tight, so tight it was hard to breathe, but I was glad for the pain. I felt the restive shift of his hands as he struggled to hold me closer, his face buried into my chest. I stroked his back, his hair, and felt like the emotion came with it, like I was bathing him in it. And then it all broke.

  Men don’t seem to cry like women. It’s like the tears, the misery, has to be ripped out of them to come. Like those big, muscular bodies fight every sob, only adding to the agony. His cries were subdued and muffled, but I felt them tear through his whole body. I hung on—it was all I could do—and as I did, I saw the glow rise. It was as if his self-imposed exi
le dampened it, but when we connected, it was allowed to shine again. It grew brighter and brighter with each cry, until I was forced to squint my eyes against it. Stray tears that had formed out of sympathy ran as I held on, sending my vision blurry. Perhaps that’s how I missed her.

  When I blinked my eyes clear, she stood in the darkened dining room, the White Wolf. Not scarily huge like last time, just the same size as any other Tirian, her fur wisping away to nothingness. She bowed her head to me and then said, You will come to us. You will help restore the balance.

  She disappeared when Finn pulled back, wiping his eyes, his breath still ragged.

  “I’m sorry, I—”

  “Don’t, please don’t, Finn. Are you feeling better?”

  “Yeah, it’s weirdly cathartic, that crying thing.”

  “Of course, it is.”

  “Still feel like a fucking dickhead.”

  “What would you tell me if our positions were reversed?”

  “That it was fine. You can always cry on my shoulder, Jules. You know that. At least, I hope you do.”

  “I do, and that goes both ways.” I saw the set of his jaw and pushed forward. “Seriously. I get you’ve got this whole white knight thing going—which I love, by the way—but I’m not going to let you tear yourself apart protecting me. I just won’t. You wouldn’t let me, right?” He nodded.

  “I love you.”

  I was never going to get used to that, that quick glance, that naked vulnerability on such a beautiful man’s face.

  “I love you too. Now, let’s take your advice and head to bed. We need to find a way to save the day tomorrow.”

  When I lay down beside him, Brandon rolled over, covering my back. He lay with me as I stroked Finn’s chest, right up until his breath evened out and he dropped off. Brandon moved closer, mouth to my ear. “Everything OK?”

  “Better now,” I whispered. I felt a swell in my chest. While he might’ve been this cool, clinical switch in the bedroom, he cared a lot about the pack dynamic, more so than anyone. I had no fucking idea what I was doing, having a relationship with so many men, but I felt safer—floundering as I was—with Brandon at my side. “I wish we had bonded, then I could show you exactly how I feel.”

  “I know,” he said, leaving the exact meaning of that open, but as I settled back against his bare chest, I was pretty sure we were on the same page.

  25

  Which was more than could be said for Jack the next day.

  “This is a fucking suicide mission,” he said.

  We sat around the dining room table, the remains of our breakfast spread across it along with pieces of paper hastily scribbled upon.

  “So how many of these... flintlock type guns did they have?” Aaron asked.

  “You’re not thinking about this right,” I said. “We had this brief glimpse at what was happening in Leifgart. I can’t give you reliable information about their arms stores.”

  “That’s the name of their city, correct?”

  “Yes, she’s said that about a million times,” Jack said. He leaned over and grabbed the cigarette packet from the table and stood up. “I’m going for a smoke. You comin,’ Hawk?”

  “Not yet,” he replied. “We really need to wait for that bloke Sylvan to come back. He’s the one that lived there. He’d have the more accurate information.”

  I watched Jack’s expression, saw the anger easily enough in the flash of his eyes and the thinning of his lips. Slade glanced at him as he stood there and shook his head. This was obviously the expected response from him, and no one seemed to like it. But nothing changed, he jerked his body away from the chair and stormed out.

  “So, Jules, this building here—”

  “Hawk’s right, we’re not likely to get very far without Sylvan. We’ll hopefully be able to talk to him soon, when Ophelia’s finished with him.” The guys watched me get to my feet. “I’ll be back in a second.”

  “Where you off to?”

  I turned to see Slade had followed me out, Buddy at his heels.

  “I was just going to—”

  “You’re going to find Jack, aren’t you?”

  “I’ve got to get this sorted. We can’t go through the portal like this.”

  “We have to go through the portal, not Hawk, not Jack. I get you like Hawk, I do too. But Jack, he doesn’t want this. I said I’d never bullshit you, love, but this guy, he might be worth cutting loose.”

  “You’ve never liked him, have you?”

  He shook his head, snorting in frustration. “What’s to like? You girls love arseholes, but he’s going to be less a sulky brat and more a fucking liability over there. I’m walking with the woman I love into a literal monster’s den. You can’t blame me for not wanting any weak links. I love you, Jules. I want every bloke that’s there ready to lay his fucking life down to save you, or I don’t want them there. That’s what you deserve, Jules, not this dickhead’s games.” He watched me turn to go. “Where are you going?”

  I nodded, frowning. “To get some answers.”

  It took me a bit to find Jack. Some of the guys had been using a little balcony as a smoker’s spot, but he wasn’t there. I looked through doors, walking and walking until I found him sitting on the floor, facing one of the big floor to ceiling windows, letting his cigarette ash fall on the plush carpet.

  Did he know what this position did for him? All of the men looked gorgeous in the sunlight, but there was something about Jack and his tumble of blond hair and his deep brown skin that seemed to soak up all radiance and let it light him from within. Weirdly, even his shitty expression didn’t detract from that.

  “Come to gloat, have you?”

  I stopped where I was and just stared at him for a moment. “Fucking Jack,” was a pretty regular refrain around the house, and I could see why. He was like some kind of spoiled prince with the world at his feet, and he was somehow pissed about it.

  “Does this work?” I said.

  “What?”

  “Like, you look like a fucking angel. It’s like the gods or the Great Wolf took male models and hot surfer dudes and the angels themselves and mixed it all up and made your body. Like, in a place full of ridiculously hot guys, you’re still next level, but you walk around acting like a complete cunt to everyone. What on earth do you have to be fucked off about? You have Hawk. He loves you. He’s gorgeous, sweet, warm, has a dick like a Coke can, and is just generally a good guy. Back in the human world, anyone—guy or girl, gay or straight or whatever—would be honoured to go through life with a guy like him by their side. So why do you walk around like someone pissed in your cornflakes? You have everything, Jack. Fucking appreciate it.”

  He rubbed the ash he’d let fall into the carpet’s fibres, creating a grey patch there before standing and walking over to me. “If I have everything, then why aren’t I enough? Why did he walk away from me, mid-conversation, to go running across the field just for a sniff of you? Why did the sex get that much hotter, with him hard all the fucking time, nailing me over and over, but he was never satisfied? Why does he need to add someone else, a whole lot of someone elses, to what we have? He’s mine, Jules.” His eyes burned as bright as the ones from his Tirian form as he slammed his hand into his chest, the tattoos lighting up there in response. “He’s all I’ve got.”

  “Then fight for him! Go and tell him how you feel. Ask him to pull out of this, for you. If this is not what you want, if the thought of going through the gate scares you, say so!”

  “I’m not scared of the fucking gate. I might not be a soldier boy, but I’ve fought my way out of many a scrap. More than fucking Prince Finn, anyway.” When he turned to look at me, I never wished more that we were officially bonded. There was so much in his stare I couldn’t decipher. He moved closer, herding me until my back hit the wall. “You scare me a fuckload more than some kinda giant wolf that can swallow me whole. I can stay here when you guys go off on your little adventure, I can break things off with Hawk. Both’ll hu
rt, the last one probably more than I can bear, but they aren’t the problem. It’s you.”

  “How am I the fucking problem?” I tried to snap that out, but it came out higher and more breathy than I’d hoped.

  “Beautiful girl, who winds us all right around your finger.” His mouth was only inches from mine as he said the words, his hands going up to push mine against the wall.

  “I’m not trying to.”

  “No, that I know. If you were one of the local girls playing games, I’d have some kind of fucking defence, but I don’t. You just come in here, all worried about the guys and the bullshit the matriarchs are pulling, wanting to go haring off and risk your life for men you’ve never even met? How do I defend myself against that? You’re everything we wanted, back when we were kids, dreaming of the one who’d complete our pack.”

  “So, you’re mad at me because you’re into me? That’s kinda primary school.”

  “I’m mad because you’re gonna waltz in and change fucking everything I’ve built over the years. You’re going to drag us along while you're being all heroic, bond us, join us to bloke’s who can’t fucking stand me. Can’t you fucking see it, Jules? You’re breaking everything down, and I’m here, gasping from the intensity and just wanting to lay myself at your feet and ask for more.”

  He kissed me. Of course, he did. Our breath was synchronised, coming in fast. I could taste the ash of his mouth before our lips even touched. His body was tight as a bowstring, all that strength kept leashed. Fingers raked at bodies, teeth bit down on lips. He was hard and aching and thrusting spasmodically against me, making me burn for a whole lot more.

  But I wasn’t going to take advantage of it. “Jack, Jack, stop. Jack.” He pulled away finally, stung. I watched his face close down, his shoulders set, his chin lifting, but when he went to draw away farther, my hand snapped around his wrists, and I wouldn’t let go. “Heat is never a problem with you and me. We can hate fuck from now until the end of time, but it’s not going to solve anything. While I want to ride that pretty face of yours until you’re covered with me, that’s not what we need.”

 

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