by R. J. Blain
I whined at the strength of the man’s grip.
“Oh, be quiet. I’m not hurting you. I just want a look at the armband.”
“He can probably give you a history lesson on it, do an appraisal, and talk your ear off for a few hours if you let him.” Anthony set his hand on the top of my head. After a moment of hesitation, he stroked my fur. “He is soft.”
I was torn between embarrassment and enjoyment. My wolf’s contentment spread through me. While he wanted me to roll over and expose my belly, I restrained him.
Desmond released my paw and gave my shoulder a firm pat. “Go shift, Declan. Amber will go with you and stay on the other side of the door. If you need any help, she’s your woman.”
“Excuse me?” Julie demanded.
Sighing, Desmond shook his head. “Sanders, how long has she been fixated on the poor pup?”
“From my understanding, the moment he jumped off a cliff for them.”
“Maybe you should run while you can, Declan,” Desmond suggested. “Amber, keep an eye on him, please.”
The other women laughed until Julie turned on them snarling and snapping her teeth. It took Elliot, Dante, and Sanders working together to hold her back. While everyone was distracted, I slid off the couch and padded down the hallway, torn between shifting and making my escape out a window or sticking around and watching the fireworks.
Amber stared at me, her dark blue eyes as cold and hard as sapphires. Instead of waiting in the hall as I expected, she followed me into the cabin’s master bedroom, locked on me with the same intensity of a hunting predator.
“My job is to make sure there are no problems. I can help if there are.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she watched me without even blinking. “So, go on. Change. It’s not like I haven’t seen a naked man before.”
Two could play the staring game, but within five minutes, I came to the conclusion she was a lot better at it. My wolf bristled at the woman’s determination to force me to submit to her silent challenge.
I bristled at the thought of putting myself on display again. When I backed into the adjacent bathroom, she tailed me. Before I could nose the door close, she slapped her hand against the wood and held it open.
“No, sir. When Desmond gives an order, it’s wise to listen. He even said please. Just change.” Amber frowned and paused. “Unless you don’t know how to change back? Do you need help?”
I shook my head so hard I made myself dizzy.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“He’s probably shy,” Richard said, his voice hoarse. Peering around the corner, he flashed a wide grin. “I’ll watch him. You might need to help with Julie. It sounds like she’s ready to maul someone out there.”
“Seriously? What is wrong with that girl?” Amber huffed, sighed, and flexed her hands. “Is there anything more temperamental than an unmated bitch?”
“A pregnant one.” Richard stepped out of Amber’s way, his dark eyes twinkling. As the woman passed him, he kissed her cheek. “Thanks for coming.”
“Of course. I wasn’t going to leave Nicolina to conquer Europe on her own. I would’ve gone with her to Seattle to visit Wendy, but it took me a bit of time to bust Dante and Elliot out of house arrest.”
“You didn’t hurt those SEALs, did you?”
“Just their pride.”
“You’re terrible, Amber.”
“I try. You sure you can handle him?”
“If I need help, I’ll give a shout. Don’t worry. I’ll have a talk with him before we head back out. I’d rather not throw him to the wolves.” Richard patted Amber’s back before giving her shove towards the hallway. “Go help leash Julie.”
“Try not to get mauled. I’d hate to explain to your daddy what happened to you.”
Scowling, Richard flipped his middle finger at Amber. “Now you’re just being mean.”
Amber laughed and left the room. Flopping on the floor between the bedroom and the bathroom, Richard propped his chin in his hands. “Amber has absolutely no care for male pride or dignity. I think she lives to make us men uncomfortable. Let’s clear the air a bit while you get around to deciding to shift. First, I’m not going to steal your Anthony. I appreciate Normals with backbone, and your Anthony is gutsy enough to handle Alphas. He’s relaxed even around Desmond.”
I turned an ear forward to indicate I was listening to Richard.
“It’s easier to talk when you’re a human. If you swear you won’t try to dive out the bathroom window, I’ll turn around if you’re that embarrassed.”
I bared my fangs and growled my irritation at his assumption I was embarrassed. I was, but that wasn’t the real reason I hesitated. It was bad enough I was pink, but the fact I didn’t shift in the same way other werewolves bothered me.
Wasn’t I enough of a freak?
“Would it help if I apologized for worrying you? I really wasn’t going to try to take him.”
I huffed.
“Stubborn.” Richard grinned at me. “I understand stubborn. That said, if I don’t trot you out as a human, Amber will come back here and force you—or worse, Desmond will come and force you. It’s not pleasant. I get you’re edgy and nervous. One Alpha is bad enough, but there are a lot of us under the same roof right now, including Dante and Elliot; they’re as close to Alphas as witches get. Go on and change. I’ll protect you from the big bad wolves and witches out there.”
I sighed, placed my paw on the door, and shoved. Laughing, Richard shuffled out of the way, giving me the illusion of privacy. I remained aware of the man waiting. The wood didn’t feel like much of a barrier. Was Richard as strong as I was?
Probably.
I sighed, but my wolf was eager enough to return to the human form we so often frequented. While I regretted having shifted to a wolf in the first place, there was nothing I could do to hide my nature. As always, the pain of shifting seemed to last far longer than it did. Without the excuse of needing to change my clothes like Richard and Dante, I stood and stared at the door in a numb daze, gathering the courage to face the man.
Richard solved the problem for me, pulling open the door and looking me over head to toe. “That was maybe three seconds. Maybe. That’s unbelievable.”
“Unbelievable in a good or a bad way?” Like him, my voice was hoarse, although I blamed exhaustion more than the lingering pain of transformation.
“Good. I average five to ten minutes. Minute to a minute and a half if I want to risk bleeding out.”
“How could you tell?”
“Your scent changed. More human, less wolf.” Richard reached out and pressed his fingers to my throat to check my pulse. “You look like you’re at least thirty pounds underweight. While there are a lot of lean Fenerec, you’re rail thin. You need to eat.”
“I ate,” I replied, stiffening at Richard’s disapproving tone.
“Double rations with protein supplements? That’s not nearly enough to sustain one of our kind, Declan.”
Part of me wanted to argue with him, but I realized I had no way of knowing. He did. I swallowed. “Then what is enough?”
Richard grinned. “Good. You’re smart. We tend to eat five or six oversized meals a day to help hide our increased metabolism. The smart wolves go to multiple grocery stores and butchers to help hide the quantity of food being consumed.”
“Just how oversized are we talking about?”
“Think a holiday meal without the risk of gaining those ten extra pounds afterwards.”
I didn’t come close to eating that much on a daily basis. “I’ve been okay.”
“How long have you been this thin?” Richard poked me in the ribs.
Snorting, I shrugged. “When haven’t I been this thin? Okay, I’m a little thinner than normal; it was a rough week after the extraction.”
“Let me see the wounds.”
I bristled at the command in his voice, but I unbuttoned my shirt and showed him the healing gunshot wounds.
“They are heal
ing slowly. Is this normal for you?”
“No.”
“Stress, probably. Slows all of us down. No sign of infection I can tell, no bleeding. Good enough for me. So. You have to have questions. Ask them.”
I stared longingly at the bed, wondering if I could just flop without bothering. “You said you’d explain things.” Instead of indulging in sleep, I buttoned my shirt. Once done, I rolled up my sleeve to check the gold cuff. It looked the same as it had before, and I still couldn’t get it off.
While Richard watched me, he didn’t comment on the Egyptian jewelry. “I need to know what you know first. What were you taught when you became a Fenerec?”
I blinked. “Pardon?”
Both of Richard’s eyebrows rose. “Okay. I obviously underestimated your ignorance. You really know nothing?”
“Probably a safe assumption.”
“So, I guess you don’t know why you’re pink and your fur glows?”
The disappointment in Richard’s voice had me gaping at him. “What is wrong with you?”
“Are you serious? I’d give half my tail for pink fur.”
“Dye it, then,” I snapped, sliding past him.
“Maybe I will!”
Chapter Twenty-Two
When I walked down the hallway, my hands stuffed in my pockets and muttering curses under my breath, the snarls of bickering wolves stopped, leaving an awkward silence in its wake. Richard nudged me with his elbow, herding me to the kitchen island until I sat on one of the stools.
“More escape routes if you’re sitting here. You shouldn’t feel as cornered,” Richard murmured in my ear before leaning against the counter to regard the other werewolves. “We’re going to have a few ground rules for this.”
“This is going to be good,” Desmond predicted, flopping on the couch and kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “Let’s hear it, pup.”
“Keep your aggression leashed. Declan doesn’t know how to deal with it yet. You’re liable to get your throat ripped out if you threaten him right now. He’s tired, he’s cranky, and he’s territorial. Desmond, you’ll want to treat him like you do any other Alpha you’re handling.”
“Alpha, eh?”
“Dad, your Canadian is showing.”
Desmond grimaced. “This is your fault, Richard.”
Most of the werewolves laughed. Julie crossed her arms over her chest, regarding me with narrowed eyes. “Why?”
Richard sighed. “Why what, Julie?”
“Is Desmond treating him like an Alpha.”
“Because if he isn’t one already, he will be.”
Desmond straightened. “You’re sure?”
“Pretty sure. He’s an older, more aggressive version of me before I took over Yellowknife.”
Desmond flinched, as did Dante, Amber, and Nicole. Patricia sighed.
When silence fell, Richard finally broke it with a sigh of his own. “We’re going to take this at Declan’s pace. No interrogations. I’m going to explain things to him, Anthony, and Lane, get them brought up to speed with the basics, and then let Amber take over from there.”
Instead of saying a word, Desmond hopped to his feet and strode to the refrigerator. “Okay. We’ll do it your way, pup. Everyone may as well make themselves comfortable. I’ll take care of breakfast while you all talk. Hopefully you made enough to feed the hordes, Declan.”
“I filled two refrigerators and freezers. There better be enough,” I muttered.
“Plus enough baked goods for a wedding reception,” Nicole added. “I need more of your brownies, Declan. I need them.” The woman’s grin was infectious, and I smiled back at her.
Julie’s growl intrigued my wolf.
“Get your head in the game. I’m not tossing a puppy to an enthusiastic bitch.” Richard bared his teeth at the werewolf woman. “Relax. Otherwise, I’m going to come over there and nip you myself.”
She squeaked and backed away until she bumped into the wall.
“Damn, pup. You really don’t hold back when you cook, do you?” Desmond pulled out half of the contents of the refrigerator, counted werewolf heads, and pulled out even more. “All right. He’s probably a rogue Alpha. Won’t be the first time we’ve come across one of those. Right, Elliot?”
“Leave my mate out of this.”
“Mine, too,” Dante added.
I sighed, wishing I knew what the werewolves were talking about. The only way I’d find out anything was if I’d ask. “What, exactly, is an Alpha?”
Everyone stared at me.
“I told you,” Richard said, his tone smug. “Fenerec come in four different varieties. Alphas are dominant Fenerec who have a few extra instincts meant to defend their pack and nurture others of our kind. We’re like regular wolves in many regards. Dominant Fenerec want to prove their place and are driven to protect weaker members of the pack. Submissive Fenerec are a lot less aggressive and rely on others to protect them. Omegas are special. They’re like Alphas in some ways. They have a different set of instincts from other Fenerec. They have no problems controlling their wolves, and unlike other Fenerec, they do not have a set rank within a pack.”
“I think I follow.” I wasn’t so certain about packs, but my wolf was interested. “What do you mean by having problems controlling their wolves?”
Richard stared at me, his mouth hanging open. “Okay, I was not expecting that question.”
“Neither was I,” Desmond admitted. “Are you aware of your wolf?”
“Yes.”
“And your wolf doesn’t try to control you?”
“Not really?” I shrugged. “We tend to agree on things, I guess.”
Richard sat on the stool beside me. “You guess?”
“I’ve never had a problem.”
Sanders stood in front of me, leaning towards me so his nose almost touched mine. “That sounds a lot like Sara. An Omega could easily go rogue and not have problems avoiding transformations. You sure he’s Alpha, Richard?”
“I refuse to accept he is an Omega,” Richard grumbled.
“Why?”
“Because that’ll mean Seattle will have two Omegas. That’s not fair.”
Desmond snorted. “I’m with Richard on this. He’s not an Omega.”
“How do you figure?” Sanders demanded.
“Sara tries to fix problems. Declan causes them for fun.”
“Can I ask a question?” Lane asked, holding up his hand like he was in school.
“Of course.”
“What’s the big deal with Omegas? You sound like an Omega is pretty important.”
Richard sighed, turning his full attention to the SEAL. “There are currently seven Omegas around the entire world, Lane. They’re rare. A pack with an Omega has a higher survival rate for puppies. We have fewer Fenerec who have to be put down if they go wild.”
“Go wild?”
“That means the wolf side has totally taken over and there’s nothing human left about the Fenerec. It’s usually a death sentence.”
“Unless you’re Richard,” Nicole said. “Richard is one of the few Fenerec who can go wild and come back after he’s calmed down.”
Letting out a heavy breath, Richard nodded his agreement. “Most rogues run wild and have to be put down. Fenerec require packs for stability. When I was a rogue, I had my little brother keeping me stable. I believe you and Anthony have been serving that function for Declan.”
“Me?” Lane blurted.
With a shrug, Richard replied, “I have a feeling he has been leaning on his teammates. Alpha-traited males require a lot of support, especially if they do not have a witch. What do you think, Amber? Can you confirm it?”
“I’m pretty sure you’re correct, Richard,” the woman replied. “I think he’s more attuned to Anthony of the two, but yes. I’m pretty sure he’s bonding with them both. Not quite a pack bond, but not a witch bond, either. It’s different. I’d guess he’s trying to form a pack for himself without knowing how to do it and feeling h
is way through it.”
Richard turned his full attention to me. “Declan, I do have one question for you. You were taken surprise by the mention of Fenerec. You’ve never met one of us before now. You haven’t seemed at all surprised by the mention of witches. Why?”
I flinched, realizing the other werewolf was correct. If I lied, he’d probably be able to smell it; while I could lie without it altering my scent, I doubted I’d be able to get away with discussing my mother without betraying myself.
The truth was far too important to me.
“My mother was a witch, and she was killed because she murdered a human.”
No one said a word, but the stench of dismay and horror hung in the air.
The long silence left me itching to escape. Everyone refused to look at me, which agitated me almost as much as the myriad of unpleasant scents assaulting my nose. Anger had a hot bite to it, and there was a sour undertone to the smells.
“It was a long time ago,” I offered. “About two decades. I was recruited for government work shortly after.”
Three years counted as shortly to me. Maybe if I changed the subject, they’d forget about my mother, what she had done, and the price she had paid for it.
“Who killed your mother?” Desmond asked, sliding a plate of reheated food to me.
“I wasn’t there. I found her when she was dying.”
“Wasn’t us, then,” Amber announced. “We don’t leave people to die like that.”
I reached for a fork, blinked as Amber’s words sank in, and twisted towards the woman. “What?”
“You have no idea what the Inquisition is, do you?” she replied, her tone wry.
Instead of replying, I leveled my best blank stare at her.
“I’m going to take that as a no. The Inquisition is an organization dedicated to protecting Normal humans from anyone with supernatural talents, although the focus is typically Fenerec and witches. I won’t lie. We can be a brutal group. Fenerec who run wild or kill Normal humans are put down. We kill them so they don’t hurt others. The same applies to witches. I’m one of the enforcers, primarily for witches and other magic users, although I hunt Fenerec sometimes. Desmond works with the packs, but he will hunt rogue Fenerec, too. None of us like it, but it’s better this way. The alternative is a lot worse.”