Feral is the Night (Feral Night World Book 1)

by Leeah Taylor

  “There is nothing you can say that’ll excuse you from making me wait two days and—”

  “Nothing? Really? Not a goddamn thing?”

  She shakes her head. “Not a one.”

  I glance out into the darkness. “I shouldn’t need an excuse, Berkeley. I can give you an explanation. I can tell you what happened. But an excuse? I’d only need an excuse if I was trying to get out of something.”

  “Yeah, showing me where I rate—”

  “My dad was bit. First in, last out was his life’s motto, and it got him killed. So yes, it took me a couple of days to get to you while trying to keep the pack from falling apart.” Any fight I had ready to go head to head with her drains out of me. “Two days, but I came for you. And when I got there, the two guys my father sent with you were dead and you were gone.”

  She looks down and away from me while her turmoil wrecks through me with fresh grief.

  “Carver…”

  “No.” I shake my head. “Don’t. I showed up. You left without me. You chose the pack for me.”

  Her silence is enough said as the door behind me creaks open.

  “Berkeley?” Tristan mutters.

  I roll my eyes. “Thanks for the hot and a cot.”

  “Wait, Carver.”

  “Goodbye, Berkeley.”

  If she’s going to stick with an accusation like I walked away from her, then I better make sure there’s a modicum of truth to it.

  Chapter Five

  Berkeley

  I never admit I’m wrong, either out of pride or because I’m just not wrong, but now, it’s on the tip of my tongue and Carver is already halfway down the stairs. Now it’s Tristan—looking fucking smug as ever—cruising toward me like he won the pissing match.

  There is so much more to the story but I’m not sure Carver will ever be ready to hear it and I’m not sure I want to relive it to tell him.

  Tristan’s lips curl back when I recoil. “Are you fucking serious, right now?”

  “What part are you struggling to understand, Tristan? You keep acting like you and I are something when we’re not. I’ve told you before and I’m telling you now, this between us, is physical.”

  He jerks back. “We’ve been together for—”

  “We have not been together. Friends?” I nod. “Yes, very much. You are my closest one here. But we are nothing more besides occasional fuck buddies.”

  The disbelief is chased away by a hurt, and he only brought it on himself. Never did I make our relationship out to be any more. Tristan knows what I am, and he knows my heart and soul belong to someone else. So if he got it in his head that I felt any other way than sexually attracted, it’s on him. Not me.

  “Unbelievable. Your shifter bastard comes back and your feelings change.”

  “No, you’re unbelievable. You’re stuck in this fantasy where you’re convinced I fell for you or something. I didn’t. My heart has and always will belong to Carver. Conversation over.”

  He’s always been too emotional for his own good. I should have known at some point this would happen. Maybe I even knew, in the back of my mind, Tristan got attached and I either didn’t care enough to set him straight or I was lying to myself. Imagine that, I’m wrong twice in one night and too tired to do anything about it.

  “Go sleep downstairs.”

  I have no desire to share a sleeping bag with him tonight. I’m not even interested in using him for sexual comfort. If I really wanted it, I know exactly where to go and over my dead body will I give Carver that satisfaction.

  A hand wraps around my throat when I turn away. The grip cuts off my air supply as he jerks me around. I claw at his hand to suck in a breath.

  “You’re hurting me.”

  His face inches closer. “Good. Maybe you’ll remember you’re human, too. Not just one of those filthy dogs.”

  It’s all I need to hear and all my wolf needs to scrape her way to the surface. The skin of my fingertips split with a sting. My knee slams up into his groin and he growls, losing his grip. It’s all instinct and fury as I swing and my razor-sharp claws cut through flesh.

  Tristan howls and stumbles back, cursing and holding onto his nuts. Blood drips down his face from three clean-cut lines across it.

  “Good,” I grit out. “Maybe you’ll remember that I’m not just some weak goddamn human either.”

  I am not some doormat for him to do with as he pleases, and that’s on me for giving him the impression.

  Seems I’ve been making all sorts of mistakes.

  His glare burns through me with a fury I’ve never seen from him. Whether it’s for me or himself, I’m not sure, but no doubt he’ll take it out on me. I don’t want to hurt him. I don’t want to do worse. But I will do what needs to be done to be the only one left standing.

  He lunges and my claws jut out, swinging but catch only air. A guttural noise echoes through the night as Tristan hits the concrete wall of the entrance to the stairwell and crumples to the ground.

  Carver is in my path with his backside to me and rippling rage trickles over me. His shoulders are tense with invisible hackles rising and his fists clench tight at his sides. It’s a flood of dominance washing over me laced with his territorial alpha. It wraps around me and caresses the bond to comfort and reassure me. My alpha is here. It’s so foreign, yet I crave it. Fucking thirsty for something I buried deep. My fingers twitch to reach for him and lace them through his. I’m yearning to feel him tug me into his chest and press a kiss to my forehead.

  Tristan staggers to his feet, holding his midsection, but glaring at Carver. “Like a good little lap dog to the rescue.”

  “Nah, just a man doing his fucking job.”

  Tristan laughs and I admire his nerve. He doesn’t know who he’s dealing with and if he did, maybe he’d think twice before pissing him off more; challenging him like he has any chance. Carver would kill him on principle alone, without a hint of emotion. It’s seated deep in him as the alpha. I know because I’ve seen him do it to another wolf. A human? It’d be over before it started. It already is.

  Carver growls when Tristan takes a step. “Don’t.”

  He freezes, eyes darkening, but he looks past Carver to me, as if looking for me to choose. Him or Carver. As much as I’d like to say, on principle I’d choose neither of them, it would be Carver. I can hate him until the end of time, but it will always be him.

  The bond awards me the right to choose until Carver puts a mate mark on me. Even then, it’s so much more than a mate bond. It’s a lifetime between us enforcing my love for him.

  My ears perk up as high pitched squealing sounds from the forest. Ferals. I’ve never heard them so close before. Day or night.

  A wicked sensation slithers up my spine and goose flesh spreads down my arms. “Carver…”

  Another sound, like a war cry, echoes so close I stumble back and bump into him. He finally drops the stand off with Tristan to turn and stare at the forest darkness beyond the school.

  “Do they ever get that close?”

  I can only shake my head with the dread pooling in the pit of my stomach.

  He wraps an arm around my waist. “Come on.”

  I don’t budge. The night seems to get darker. Every single shadow in the trees transforms into something staring back at us. Crunching and breaking of twigs makes me stiffen and instead of retreating, I inch forward to the edge of the building to see the tree line.

  “Berkeley. It’s time to go,” Carver urges.

  Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe they’re passing through the forest, scavenging for their next meal and I’m overreacting because my emotions are all over the place. Thanks to Carver, Tristan, and their bullshit.

  A figure steps out into the moonlight and cocks its pale face up at me. I swear it smiles as the tree line fills with more bodies. Their hissing and disembodied squeals fill the night like a horror movie I do not want to be in.

  Carver growls. “Shit.”

  The thing never tears
its circus freak smile from me and it opens its mouth, showing off two rows of razor-sharp fangs. A deafening sound wretches out of the creature and I finally snap out of it. My feet move on their own and I bolt to the door while barking out orders to Tristan.

  “Get the children to the back of the school and be ready to leave.” When I reach the door, the sound of metal whines from the front of the school. “The gates won’t hold. Tristan go, now.”

  He hesitates, looking between me and Carver, but finally races down the steps.

  “We have to get to the arsenal before the Ferals get through the entrance.”

  My blood is primed and pumped for a fight to unleash some fury, but a weight is forming in the pit of my stomach. I don’t realize it until the warmth of Carver’s hands close around my arms and he jostles me gently. I’m paralyzed in the doorway leading into the hallway.

  “Berk, what’s the contingency if this happens? The plan?”

  “Kids to the garages in the back of the school. There’s a bus we’ve kept up with, there’s enough gas to get them out.”

  My mind goes blank. The biggest concern, priority, in our planning for just in case were the children. Safe and out.

  “Berkeley.” Carver shakes me harder. “Then what?”

  “Fire alarm.”

  I bolt across the hall and pull the old manual pull alarm. The hallway fills with the high pitch sound of the alarm as it echoes through the building.

  My wolf whimpers and whines and I cringe. It’s like nails on a chalkboard scraping long and deep. But the chains clanking hard against the door seems louder. They won’t hold when it’s a hoard of these things trying to get in.

  The halls fill with panic and all eyes are on me. I don’t want to be in charge anymore. I don’t want to be their leader. Because if it all goes bad, then it’s me responsible for the blood spilled. I sprint down the hall giving directions and orders despite it all. It doesn’t matter if I don’t want the responsibility. These people expect a leader. They need someone to tell them what to do and where to go to feel safe.

  And like it or not, it’s me.

  “Go, the garages, now.” I point at Jay. “You’re with us.” I grab two more guys and keep on my path to the office.

  The chains rattle and groan and we all freeze in the middle of the hall. Ferals growl and hiss on the other side. Their nails scrape down the metal and the door jerks violently inward under the weight of the hoard at our doorstep.

  Carver stops me from stalking forward. “Berk, it’s already too late.”

  I yank away. “No, it isn’t.”

  “There are dozens and dozens out there. If not hundreds.”

  “I’m not letting everything we’ve built get taken.”

  He sighs. “It’s already gone.”

  “Carver.” Cooper calls as glass breaks from the floor above. “We gotta go, man, they’re climbing the building.”

  “Berkeley…”

  “Then go. I don’t need you to save us,” I spit out and storm away from him toward the arsenal. “Let’s go. We’ll grab the guns and ammo belts and slip through the door in the back and double back through the—”

  The doors burst open and a cacophony of the dead screaming and hissing stops me cold with only a couple of feet of air between me and them. I’ve faced death more times than I can count, but I’ve never looked into the endless faces of Ferals. Their eyes sparkle with black bloodlust and rimmed in glowing red. Row upon row of fangs salivate to sink into my flesh to sate their only need to exist.

  “Shit.”

  Chapter Six

  Carver

  I just move. There are a lot of things I’m okay with and death is very high on the list. In this world, there’s really no choice. But watching Berkeley get torn apart isn’t something I’m okay with or could even stomach. I’d never survive it.

  And despite barking out an order for her guys to go with Cooper, their footfalls are behind mine, racing for her out of the same vein; because she means something to them.

  But none more than me and my heart skips, stops, when one of those things lunge for her and she doesn’t move. I barely make it to her in time to grab her by the edge of her shirt and yank her back. The thing growls with the near miss. She gasps and stumbles over her own feet.

  Where the hell is her head? Because it’s not here and now.

  Fucking run, I roar through her mind.

  She flinches and I shove her ahead of me toward Cooper. He pushes her to keep running and I glimpse something gripped tightly in his hand.

  “I’m right behind you,” he shouts, waving to me to keep going and pulls the pin. To Cooper, this is an excuse to play with his favorite toys.

  I grab hold of Berkeley’s arm and keep her forward because I can feel the reluctance and need to turn back coming off of her in suffocating waves. And fucking hell, this girl will be the death of me and herself.

  “Keep going,” I demand, weaving through the empty halls with no idea where I’m going and I don’t care if it puts distance between us and the Ferals.

  Glass shatters and wood splinters above us as the Ferals tear through the school. The first onslaught of screams makes Berkeley slow and tense, but my grip tightens. She isn’t getting away so easily this time.

  Ever again, if I have any say in it.

  “It’s too late.”

  She comes to a dead halt. “No—”

  “Berk—”

  The explosion shakes the building and Ferals scream with a piercing sound. It grates over me and sends my wolf into chaos. Berkeley recoils and cringes while her discomfort blankets over mine.

  Cooper rounds the corner with her men close behind.

  “They’re coming full force!”

  I don’t give Berkeley a chance to run in the other direction to rescue the screaming. It’s too late for them but not us.

  You need to learn when to let go. I force the words through the walls she’s attempting to erect to push me out. Instead, she lets a blast of loathing hit me and I swear this girl is everything that drives me to madness.

  We reach the end of a hall and the Ferals’ shadows cast over us as soon as we’re through the door at the end of the hall and slam it shut. The force of their bodies hitting it nearly sends Cooper and I back. The giant’s massive hand slams into the door between us and forces it closed.

  Cooper darts from the door. “Be right back.”

  I shimmy over to make up for him. “Coop, damn it.”

  The door nudges inward. The giant presses more of his hulking frame into it while I feel like a toothpick holding up a skyscraper.

  “Cooper!”

  I take a good hard look at the room and the first bout of panic settles in me. It’s some sort of storage room. Shelves are stacked with a mismatch of items, like blankets and clothes. Some tools on other shelves. We’re trapped.

  Berkeley pops out from one aisle. “There’s a way out.”

  Cooper comes back carrying metal railings that resemble the shelving. He shoves it through the handles of the door and shrugs.

  “It’s not going to hold, but a few seconds is better than none.”

  “There’s a door in the back.” Berkeley points. “And a clear shot into the woods behind the school.” She wedges herself between me and the giant. “Go, Jay. Tim and Mike already went.”

  “I can wait—”

  She shakes her head. “No, go. We’ll be right behind you. Just head for the checkpoint. The place by the—”

  “Yeah,” he sighs and nods. “By the bridge.”

  Cooper takes his place and the door pushes in despite the three of us putting all we have into it.

  “Well,” Cooper grits his teeth. “Look at us, back together and thick in the shit like old times.”

  “Fuck you,” I growl.

  Berkeley rolls her eyes. “Go to hell.”

  “Yep, just like old times.” Cooper forces out a laugh. “On three, we bolt for the door. Don’t stop.” He’s looking at Berkeley.
“Got it?”

  “Yeah, I got it, Coop.”

  I blow out a breath and meet Berkeley’s gaze. “One.”

  “Two.”

  “Three.”

  I make sure Berkeley is first down the aisle, then Cooper. Only then do I follow down the narrow space, right when the door splinters and slams open.

  I grab Berkeley by the hand and drag her behind me because I know what she’s thinking. She’s thinking she’ll be clever and get back inside to save people who are already lost.

  I yank her into the darkness of the woods and down to the ground behind a tree at the tree line when the door crashes open. Cooper eyes me from behind another tree before sneaking a peek at the school and shakes his head. My arms wrap a little tighter to Berkeley and to my surprise, she snuggles closer into my chest.

  Don’t you ever scare me like that again.

  She nods against my chest while her heart races, the sound like a hummingbird in my ears. I don’t care how angry she is with me. She can hate me if she wants. But her death is never an option, and I’ll use all of me to make sure it never is.

  Chapter Seven

  Berkeley

  For all the planning and drills we had over the last couple of years, I never actually thought we’d have to use any of them. It’s my fault for getting too comfortable; too complicit in the idea we were safe.

  People died because of it.

  My stomach churns and I force back the urge to be sick. I never asked to be the one in charge, the one everyone looked to for an answer. I blame Tristan for being too pussy to take the lead while pushing me into it.

  The only relief I’m awarded is finding the bus and my people waiting at the bridge. It’s not all of them, and while we make our way down, I’m counting. Grateful for double digits, but it does nothing for the pangs in my heart when the count comes up fifteen short. The screams of those fifteen will haunt me.