by H. D. Gordon
Eli joined me by the window, handing me a glass of shine that I took and drained in a gulp. I handed it back to him, and he set it on the bookshelf to his right.
I could feel his eyes on me. “Thank you,” I said.
The Demon took a step closer, and some part of me wanted to turn to him, to have him open his arms to me so that I could fall into them, so that I could fall apart. But I would do no such thing, because an Alpha could do no such thing.
“We’re alone,” Eli told me softly. “It’s okay, Dita.”
Though Eli was not a Wolf, and we did not share a telepathic connection, he often seemed able to read my thoughts. Instead of a response, I held out my hand, and Eli filled the glass on the bookshelf once more and handed it to me.
I drained the shine, letting it go to my belly and warm the cold that seemed to have taken up a permanent residence there.
I handed the glass back to Eli. He set it aside with a sigh. When he moved closer, slipping an arm around my waist and tugging me against him, I almost shoved him away. His body was stiff, as if he expected me to, but he relaxed after a few moments when I did not.
“Even the mountains lean against the sky for support sometimes,” the Demon told me. “It doesn’t make them any less a mountain.”
My voice was cold when I spoke. “I’m just trying to avoid a landslide, Eli.”
The Demon sighed and nodded, and when he placed a gentle kiss to my forehead, my jaw clenched, but I didn’t shove him away.
“What are you going to do now?” he asked.
“I’m going to kill the Wards,” I said. “And anyone who stands in my way. I can’t let this insult stand. If I do, the other Alphas will sense the weakness, and they’ll come for me. They’ll come for us all.” I glanced up at him. “So please don’t try to talk me out of it.”
Eli shook his head. “I wasn’t gonna.”
“Because you know I’m right?”
His head tilted. “Because I know when an argument is futile.”
“They gave me no choice.”
“There’s always a choice.”
I pulled away a little, and Eli sighed. “What, then?” I asked. “What would you have me do?”
Eli reached into his pocket and removed a piece of parchment. He unfurled it, holding it up so that we could both see. I scanned the page, eyes narrowing as I did so.
“You want me to run,” I said after a moment.
Eli sighed again. “Not run. Just step into the shadows so that the target on your back isn’t so enormous. You’ll still be making the money, still have all the power, you just wouldn’t be the face of the operations.”
Anger rose up in me, and while some part of me recognized it as out of place, I was too wound up to temper it. My hands balled into fists, and I spoke between clenched teeth.
“You want me to forfeit my Alpha status and hide,” I said. It was not a question.
Eli was cautious but firm. “I want you to consider the long term. Wealth and dynasties are built on blood and violence, but the smart sailor always sees the value of adjusting the sails when winds get rough.”
“I won’t run,” I said, my eyes hard as I looked at him. “I won’t hide.”
Eli rolled up the piece of parchment and slipped it back into his pocket. “Yeah,” the Demon said. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”
The moon rose full and heavy over the plantation, and the Wolves were riled and anxious.
I stood on the roof of the main house, watching as the whole of my Pack—save for the family members I’d sent to the safe location—gathered below me. I wondered if there were traitors among them, or if my anxiety was just getting the best of me. The storm I’d glimpsed in the west earlier had taken a different route, but the air still had a biting breeze to it, carrying in the scent of the ocean to the east.
Ninety-three Wolves in total, a large Pack for any Alpha, some in Wolf form, others in mortal, gathered on the front drive, their heads turned toward where I stood. The toes of my boots hung over the edge of the rooftop, and my memory transported me back to the moment when my father had found us, arriving on the night I’d taken the mantel of Pack Master and Alpha from Carson Cartier. My father had called out my name so that I’d make myself known.
Now, all the Wolves waited, and as I held up a hand, those in their Wolf form took to their bellies while those in mortal dropped to their knees. It was an odd sensation, to see all those Wolves, many of them males twice my size, submitting in such a way.
Was it worth risking everything for?
I pushed that question aside, knowing that it had been planted there by Eli and his ridiculous plan. I’d earned my Alpha status fair and square, through blood and sacrifice, and if someone wanted to take it from me, they could do so through the same.
I cleared my throat, gathering their conscious minds to my own, intending to speak in their heads simultaneously, a feat made simple by my Alpha status.
I saw no need for pretense.
“As most of you witnessed, my father was murdered and hung before us at the harvest celebration,” I began, making sure not to shift under the weight of all the eyes looking up at me, many of them glowing Wolf-gold in the darkness.
“This is an attack I cannot let stand, and until the matter is resolved, each of you should be on alert for attacks from the other Packs, particularly the Wards or the Mangeras.”
There were growls and snaps at the mention of these names, and as crazy as it was, the sounds warmed me. As part of my Pack, these Wolves were offended by what had happened, taking it as a personal insult. I paced along the edge of the rooftop, feeling my own Wolf inside me, itching to come to the surface and coat its tongue in the taste of our enemy’s blood.
“I’ve no intention of running from these insults, no intention of wasting time. I will strike back, and I will strike hard.”
More growls and glowing eyes, the energy among my Wolves rising along with my voice.
“I’m not just going to kill the Alpha,” I continued. “I’m going to kill his father and brothers. I’m going to scatter his Pack to the wind, and let the ashes settle where they may, so that the next time a Wolf gets it in their head to fuck with the Silvers Pack, they think twice.”
Silence as hundreds of eyes stared up at me, the air sizzling with anticipation.
“Any Wolf who does not wish to stand beside me should leave now. Any Wolf who does not agree with this response should leave now. Any Wolf who doubts my resolve should leave now.”
I paused, waited, watched. When no Wolf turned tail and left, pride rose up in me, and I wondered at the potency of it. It was drug-like in nature, and I suspected this also made it dangerous.
As if to confirm this, I sensed Eli on the roof behind me, not visible to the others, but lurking in the shadows. I may not be able to keep my heart completely from the Demon, but I didn’t need his approval to make decisions about the future of my own damn Pack. The truth was—and later I would decide that it was also perhaps part of the problem—that I didn’t need anyone’s goddamn permission.
That was what it meant to be Alpha.
I nodded down at the Wolves, my eyes glowing Wolf-gold now as the anticipation of my revenge rose up in me, starting in my feet and then working its way up to the very crown of my head.
“Good,” I said. “Tell me now, are you with me?”
The answer was immediate. The Wolves, all ninety-three of them, tipped their heads back to the sky and howled up at the full moon, shaking the heavens with the force of their combined call. My body reacted, and I shifted into my Wolf form, my muscles and bones rearranging, fur sprouting from my skin and fangs from my gums.
I stood at the edge of the rooftop overlooking them all, and lifted my muzzle to the sky to return their call.
The sound shook in my chest, the harmony like music. Only Eli remained silent, standing behind me in the shadows, an expression on his face that I didn’t care to glance back at.
When the howling
finally ceased, and the Wolves dispersed back to their assigned posts, the Demon approached me at the edge of the roof. I looked up at him as he sank a hand into the fur between my shoulders, stroking me gently there.
He didn’t say anything, though, because there was nothing left to be said.
Chapter 8
The funeral was held on a Friday.
It was sunny, much warmer than usual for the late autumn season. Not like with Demarco’s funeral, where the sun had refused to make itself known for what seemed a month on end. The heavens just kept on crying and crying. During that dark time I’d thought to myself more than once that they were shedding the tears I longed to cry, but dared not.
No, the day of my father’s funeral was not a dark one, and was hardly comparable to the funeral before it for the sheer contrast in my love for the two. Losing Demarco had been like losing a limb, while losing my father felt more like losing my breath.
Still, it was heavy, both in the metaphorical and the literal sense. My arms and legs seemed weightier, my movements slower, as if gravity were grabbing just a little tighter and holding me down.
And, yet, I had to stand tall. I could not let the others see me crumble.
The loss of my little brother and my father may have been different in gravity, but a loss was a loss.
And there would be hell to pay for it.
I exited the house last of all, standing in my bedroom window for a long while, watching my family and friends and Pack members gather in the group that would make its way to the wide river near the edge of our land, and set sail the pyre with my father. Immediately after, Kyra would portal my siblings back to the safe location. All but Devon would go.
From this vantage point, overlooking the circular drive that faced the old manor, Ada and Ana looked so small, the way I still remembered them from a few years ago. Whereas they used to chase each other about, they now stood close together in their nice clothing. Ana had opted for a dress, while Ada had chosen pants and a nicely cut suit jacket to wear.
A dull ached throbbed in my chest when I noticed that the girls were holding hands as they stood shoulder to shoulder. I may have been their true guardian since the day they were born for all intents and purposes, but Dion had been their biological father, too. Had he not bounced them on his knees or downed a deer for dinner from time to time, or told them stories he’d heard as a kid, and loved them in the selfish, self-indulgent way he knew how?
So, yes, the day was heavy. I felt it. My siblings felt it. The Pack felt it.
But the sky did not open up a single vein for a single drop of rain.
Eventually, I had to leave my post, but I stared for a moment longer down at my brother and sisters, Little Demarco by Delia’s side. Then there was Elian, Kyra, Cora, Cecilia and the rest, people I knew well and some I knew just recently. I sighed and made my way to the front of the party to take my position.
I stepped out of the bedroom and crossed the hall, going down the stairs, across the foyer, and out the large double doors. The sun smiled down at me.
I met the eyes of all those I passed, taking great care to meet the gazes of my siblings, who would be turning to me for answers, for results, and to promise in the looks we shared that I would deliver, that I would not fail them.
The beating of all those hearts, the inhalations and exhalations of breath, and my boots on the gravel drive were the only sounds. I passed the pack, the procession of people lined up on either side to let me pass. Every head bowed in submission as I made my way to the front.
My siblings followed behind me. My father’s body was up here, poised on a bed of forest and balanced on the shoulders of four Wolves. Guns at my hips, I lead them toward the river.
The walk was less than a mile, but every step took me back to when I’d done this a year and a half ago, when I’d made this same walk, crossed this same land to send Demarco off. I had wanted a small affair for Demarco, would likely have made little to no affair for my father, but the new members of the Pack insisted on being present as a way to prove their submission and devotion to me.
I understood protocol required this of them, likely would have been insulted if they hadn’t shown, but none of it had been what I’d wanted, because as much as a recent death in a new Pack was an opportunity to show a new Alpha loyalty, it was also an opportunity for a new Alpha to be observed.
How would I handle myself with the loss of those so close to me? How would I react in times of distress?
With blood, came the thought, and it was as sure as it was cold.
We reached the river’s edge, and I nodded at Devon to set the pyre alight. My brother barely looked at me as he took the torch from my hand and did the deed. He would not insult me, not here, not in front of these people, but Dev was not happy. And, really, could I blame him?
The bed atop which my father lay lit quickly, and my throat closed when a small sob escaped Ana, and I saw Ada draw her close. Delia stood stoic and tall, Little Demarco oblivious on her hip.
The breath caught in my throat as I pulled my eyes from the girls and caught a flash of something in the trees. It was all I could do to keep my cool as the face of the Mad Wolf stared back at me, so distant and gone so quick that there was a fifty-fifty shot that I’d just imagined him. I blinked, and he was gone, like a whisper on the wind, faster than even a Wolf should be able to move.
I was losing my damn mind.
Clearing my throat, I kicked the pyre from the bank, and watched it rush into the rapids with a silent goodbye.
As the waters carried it away, and the fire ate at the edges, I rested my hands at my hips, where my irons hung cold as my heart.
Later that evening, I was back at my bedroom window, a glass of shine in my hand. A waning moon hung over the plantation, and the Wolves slept as the world held dark and silent.
I sipped the liquid in my glass, tilting my head when I heard the door to the room open. Taking a breath in, I caught the scent of the visitor, and did not tell him to go away.
Elian joined me over by the window.
I waited for him to say something, but he didn’t speak. Instead he stepped closer by my side, slipping an arm around my shoulders and drawing me near. Some part of me resisted, but there was no one here. The crowds had dispersed hours before, the drinking and howling at the moon that closed every Wolf funeral finally ceasing, and the Wolves stumbling off to sleep away their stupor.
So I rested my head on his shoulder, and swallowed hard while Eli’s hand gently stroked the hair away from my face. When I turned and faced him, I was not expecting to fall into his arms, to bury my head in his chest, to let the fabric of his fine suit absorb the traitorous tears I could not keep back.
I didn’t know what the fuck was wrong with me. I’d never even liked my father, and had thought just the other day that the bastard was more trouble than he was worth. But maybe it wasn’t just the loss of my father, maybe it was a whole bunch of things weighing on me at once.
Elian would never know how grateful I was that he did not say anything. Not a single word. He only held me as I broke down in front of him, as the mask I clung to so tightly slipped, and whatever was underneath got a rare glimpse of the outside.
I was grateful again when he let me kiss him, after wiping the stupid tears away and gaining control over myself. Grateful still when he let me lead him over to the bed, when he let me lay upon his chest and listen to the steady rhythm of his heart, an anchor in an ocean that was close to washing me away.
At some point I got tired of staring at the ceiling, so I climbed atop him and was grateful anew when he occupied me, taking my mind away from the morbid of the moment for a stolen slice of time.
Afterwards, I fell asleep in his arms.
I hated how happy it made me that he was still there when I woke up in the morning.
Once Eli left, I showered, dressed, and made my way into the kitchen. Cora was there, overseeing the breakfast table as usual. She dropped some fruit on my plate w
hen I went straight for the protein and carbs, and kissed my cheek as she did so.
I ate as Devon joined me, pushing a stack of papers toward me along with a wrapped, white box.
“What’s this?” I asked.
Cora answered as she sat down alongside us. “Came in the post this morning, boss,” said the Vampire.
I pulled the box off the stack of letters and looked down at it, my two companions watching with rapt attention as they sipped their coffee. A single white bow adorned it, the ribbon as smooth as silk as I unraveled it, and removed the lid to see whatever could be inside.
Ruby red grapefruits were nestled among white wrapping paper, the kind that looked like they were bleeding when you cut into them. Among the fruit was a small card. I plucked it from the box and flipped it open.
My deepest condolences.
-Angelo Mangera
I blinked down at the letter. Then I threw the fucking box across the room. It struck a stack of pans over by the sink and sent them clattering. The sound was enormous, but I barely heard it.
Devon and Cora watched on, said nothing.
I stood from my seat and left the room. They did not follow.
The Wards and the Mangeras. The Alphas of the two largest Packs to the north and south of Cerys outside of my own. And this shit with Lucian Borden, the Mad Wolf, why the fuck was I seeing his Gods damned face everywhere? Kyra had done the orb spell to spy on the male, and it had confirmed his status in a coma, but was it possible that something had gone wrong in the spell? Was it possible what we’d seen in the orb was an illusion?
Or was it more likely that the stress of the situation was causing me to lose my Gods damned mind?
I needed to make a statement, to strike back, and quickly.
I drew a deep breath and went to the office, not surprised to find it empty.