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04 Rammed Before I could react to Molly’s warning words, the loud bang of wood meeting wood rattled in my ears. Scraping echoed through the night air. Making my teeth clatter together. I stumbled, feeling my feet getting displaced. I was instantly worried about the ship and my daughter. But Molly, moving faster than I could see, caught me with one vise grip, and the helm with the other. Grounding the both of us so we weren't knocked over. I looked toward the towering mast passing over us. He hit me. I was on fire with outrage that Lucien had dared tap the Sea Snake. That bastard! If he does make it aboard her, he’s going to wish he didn’t. I promised myself. He'd clipped the stern of the Sea Snake to bring her around. Swinging the ship completely parallel to The Immortal, and twisting her so she couldn’t make way down the canyon. Effectively abolishing that ray of hope. Dammit. I’d had visions of cutting through that narrow space and making it perfectly into the harbor than around to the port. Perfectly evading Lucien and his beastly ship. For once. But like he so often did, he managed to defeat all my best laid plans with one cleverly placed blow. I was muttering all manner of foul names under my breath. Staring yearningly at the canyon as we were brought around, broadside to it. I watched the rockface passing the bow so closely that it barely scratched the frame. Everything was happening so fast it was almost dizzying. I stumbled twice and Molly caught my elbow righting me and holding me fast. Her perfect balance kept her on her toes, swaying with the ship even when there were abrupt changes. Her ability to always react so much faster has come in handy numerous times. I gasped, finding myself holding my breath again, as I clutched her forearm back. Watching in horror as the Sea Snake swung around but it was done with no further harm than my pure, blood-boiling outrage. The Immortal somehow kept abreast of us until both ships could be joined by the boarding planks which The Immortal’s crew were quick to string out. I had just enough time to go down from the helm, spilling a tirade of profane words which I managed to knit together as they spilled from my mouth. Only stopping when Lucien stood before me, looking every inch the pirate and rogue. He wore a weathered tricorn with a dark feather tucked into the red headband, so it floated along behind the hat. He wore black breeches tucked into tall black boots polished until they glistened. A ruffled white shirt was tucked in around him by a fitted black overcoat. Wound with silver embroidered vines twisting around red velvety buttons. He looked handsome and dashing with slashing black brows over dark eyes and his pointed beard and mustache proudly adorning his chin. Drawing attention to his high cheekbones and angular features. But handsome or not, white-hot rage had me ready to start swinging. With every intention of hitting until that blasted smirk vanished from his flawless face. “Hello again, captain... Bex. Isn't that what it is now?" He drawled. Bracing a boot along the edge of his ship. My teeth gnashed. “Cabin boy!" Lucien summoned Molly. Making me stiffen. But I remained still as she went to him. He knew that would work. “You can serve me wine while your captain and I come to terms." “Terms?” One of the Sea Snake’s crewmen muttered. “He’s going to rob us blind again.” “That’s our cut he’ll be taking.” “He’s done it to us again. Bloody bastard.” Another complained. Their voices were a muffled jumble. Ringing in my ears. Their anger was nearly tangible, making my nerves stand on end. “Yes... Cap’n." Molly nodded. Nearly slipping up and calling him ‘father’ in her haste to head to the captain's quarters. Eager for a quick visit. Once the door closed behind us, Molly let out her excitement. She squealed excitedly. “Father!" “Molly girl." His whole face changed as a brilliant smile lit his face, making his dark eyes glisten brightly. I swore that the only time he ever smiled, whole-bodied like that, was for our sweet daughter. As much as he irked me, I couldn’t help but think that was sort of beautiful. She nearly bowled him over. Launching against his side and tucking under his arm. As she looped her arms around him in a crushing hug. Revealing how much she’d missed him. He happily tucked her in there. Tipping back her cap up to plant a tender kiss on her forehead. “How's my lovely girl?" “Keeping mom safe and raiding ships." She shrugged. Smiling tenderly. As if it were her job to take care of me. “I see you've done well. She's still whole.” His gaze lifted to settle on me. “Still beautiful." “You're not softening me up." I warned. He hesitated, still grinning. “Give me time". “The moment will never come." My mouth whitened. No matter how long you wait. I’ll never be that weak again. “Never say never." He shook his head. “I'll be around for a very, very, long time." How did he turn such a simple sentence into a threat which made my stomach sink and my confidence wane. He has that effect on me. Molly drew back. “It’s good to see you, father. I've missed you." She stood on her toes, and he automatically leaned down to offer her his bristled cheek. She met it with a quick kiss. “I've missed you too, sweet girl. I'd love to see more of you." He lifted his brows and cast a look in my direction. Knowing that I had the power to allow that. “No." “It may be better-" He began to suggest. “I provide well for her." I cut him off. “You've mistaken me for a woman far less independent.” The words were proud because I was proud. I’d worked hard to become what I was now. He tilted his head down. His expression darkened to something which was almost accusatory. “Now that’s not wholly true." “You’re starving her.” Lucien charged. “If she feeds, she can be exposed.” “Not if you watch her back. You can’t leave her to go hungry.” “She eats.” “That food is tasteless to her and does nothing for her.” I looked down at Molly. She was frowning. Looking from one to the other of us. “Perhaps I should go oversee the raid so you two can fight." Molly sighed. Seeming more bored than anything else. Lucien caught her arm. “I’ve brought you a snack." “Lucien..." I started. “He's a particular kind of bastard.” Lucien explained for my benefit. “She'll be doing many women a favor, I assure you.” But he wasn’t asking permission. He gave me a hard look. “You can't expect her to never feed. Besides, I brought him for just this purpose." “The body-" I started. “They'll think he was killed in the raid.” Lucien dismissed. Directing her. “Get him after the cargo is loaded." She nodded. Her dark eyes solemn. As she began to open the door, he pushed it closed and quickly adjusted her askew cap so it properly covered her hair. Then he opened the door for her. Giving her a subtle wink. “Boys!" He bellowed out the door after she'd passed through. “Load all illegal cargo. Don't waste your time with the rest. This boy will show you where to find it." He nodded to Molly. He and Molly exchanged a look. Communicating in a way I didn't understand. As they often do. Then he closed the door and rounded on me. His dark eyes glittering malevolently as they levelled on me. Pinning me where I was. “Now you, my woman... What am I to do with you?"

102 Haven Village Jackson directed me to take Sweetness around to the back of the cottage. I followed his direction and found a comfy nook back there. It had three sturdy walls and the inside was stalls with swinging doors, layered with plenty of hay. Blankets and reins hung on hooks on the wall. I led Sweetness in. Looking around the overhang shelter, impressed by the work. It’s warm. It was a perfect windbreak. I led Sweetness to the first stall. Jackson helped me take the saddle off and pull it down, hanging it over the stall wall. The reins and blanket all followed. I opened the door and directed Sweetness in. Just as the door closed behind her, I heard a snort from a far stall and realized there was another horse here. “There’s a horse!” I pointed. “Yes.” Jackson had his arms linked behind him. He tilted forward on his toes to indicate that he knew the steed was there. I wandered down to peer at it. Glancing it over. It was a handsome spotted gray gelding with a black tail and mane. He was huge and beautiful but as soon as I drew close he swung his head sideways and his eyes rounded until I could see the whites. “He thinks about as much of me as any other.” I remarked. Careful to keep my distance so I didn’t rile him up enough to hurt himself. “Where’d you find him?” I hadn’t seen any that looked like him in Haven, so far. “I purchased him from a breeder a couple towns, over.” “Who takes care of him?” I asked in alarm. Realizing that Jackson was gone too often to tend the mount. “I hired a widow and her young son to come out and tend to the animals. They also see to the cleanliness of the cottage.” “They do well. It was spotless.” “I’m glad you approve.” *** “So, what now?" I queried as soon as we returned indoors. It was still the afternoon. We had made better time than he’d expected. It would still be a while before dark. “Well, first thing I have to do is go get us some food." He pulled a bow and quiver off a hook tucked behind the door. “Just promise me you'll be here when I get back.” He gave me an anxious glance, wanting assurance. “No." I firmly asserted. “I won't be." “Fiere?" Jackson face crumpled and I got an uncharacteristic glimpse of his pain. “You're taking me with you." I informed him rather than asking. I’m not waiting here alone. I was still getting used to feeling safe anywhere. I had the distinct impression that the growing sense of being secure would evaporate the moment he was out the door. My instincts would be screaming that I shouldn’t be stationary. Stationary means being trapped. It was a hard learned lesson. One that had been beat into me. Jackson floundered for a moment, caught off-guard. “In that dress?" He gestured. “Beasts would spot you, yards out." He was probably right about that. “Then give me clothes to change into." I held out my hand expectantly. He snorted, shaking his head. Still, he dutifully wandered over to a chest in the corner. Pulling out a plain tunic and a pair of pants with a scrap of leather. Once I got a better look, I realized the leather was a belt with a metal ring. A lot better than some things I’ve worn to traipse through woods. Anything is better than nothing. He handed the bundle to me. Then stood waiting. “You're not going to turn around?" “Why?” He lifted a brow. “I’ve seen you naked a hundred times. Now you want me to pretend I have not?" I sighed. Realizing how ridiculous it was but still feeling a flush creep over me every time his eyes slid over my skin. We exchanged a long glare. He’s not giving any ground on this. For some reason he didn’t want to lose that sense of intimacy. It’s important to him. Finally surrendering, I rolled my eyes. I peeled off the dress and began the process of stepping into the pants, then the tunic, then I pulled the belt around my hips and cinched it in along my waist. “Much better." He gave me a long appraisal before remarking. “And quite ravishing in pants, to be forward." “You're always forward." “With you.” He tilted his head in acknowledgement. “Only you." “Are you going to take me hunting? Or stand there gawking as though you'd take them off me, just as I have gotten into them?" “Are you offering?" That blonde brow inched up again. Looking haughty as ever and making goosebumps climb over my skin. “To go hunting!" I laughingly caught his broad shoulder and turned him about. Pushing him out of the opulence of the gorgeous cottage. Knowing that if we didn’t go now, we might not for many hours. He chuckled as he stumbled out. Offering just enough resistance to be difficult. Making me push his lumbering weight with my smaller frame. *** The walk was a longer than I’d anticipated. I shot Jackson a curious look. Considering if it was too early to ask how much longer it would be before we reached some hunting grounds. “What is it?" He queried absentmindedly. Strolling confidently through the beautiful forest. Rays of flickering sunshine teased through trees and over the strands of his pale blonde hair. He was tall and heartbreakingly handsome. “Where are we going?" “The bigger bucks are this way." He pointed his bow further west. I noticed the big gauntlets on his forearms. He often wore them, but it hadn't dawned on me that it was for archery. I rarely ever saw him use a bow. Only glimpsing him carrying them across the Training Yard occasionally. “I don't recall seeing you use a bow?" “No?" He frowned. “Perhaps you didn't." “Why wouldn't I have seen you practice with your bow?" “I don't practice archery." I reared back “Why not?" He gave a secretive smile. Nodding further down the path. “I hear the village ahead." “We're going to a village?" I knew he was purposely changing the subject, but I was too fascinated by the prospect of touring a Haven village to care. “Yes, we have to pass through it, to hit the best hunting ground this late in the day." “Alright." I was silent as I eagerly anticipated what a village would be like in this happy place. Villages in Ferus were full of life, breads and treats just like I smelled ahead. But there were fights, thievery, dark glances and hateful studies. I hoped that, as I suspected, villages in Haven would have a different feel. But with that verified, I circled back to the topic he’d been avoiding. “Why do you have a bow if you’ve never done archery.” “I didn’t say I’ve never done it.” “You said you don’t practice it.” “No.” “Why?” I probed. Wondering if I was going to get an answer at all. “I don’t need to, Fiere.” “Huh?” “I have pretty good accuracy.” “Without ever practicing.” “Yeah. We just sort of found out that I had an innate knack for it.” “It’s the wolf in you.” I said thoughtfully. “The accuracy, strength. You were born with the skills needed to be a perfect archer.” “Then why wouldn’t every wolf be?” He smiled teasingly. But I saw the haunted look in his eyes that told me he already knew what I’d just told him was fact. “Most wolves in Ferus, as I’m sure you know, reject most of man’s tools and customs.” He tipped his head grudgingly. “I think you’d be surprised how many wolf archers there are.” “Then why ask me that question.” I countered. Hitching my chin impudently. “Merely to get your thoughts on the matter. Sometimes I like to hear what you think.” I gave him a surprised look. “Don’t look at me like that.” He nudged me. “You used to accuse me of it all the time.” “Yeah…But I didn’t actually believe it.” “Well, you were right…” *** We'd gone only a little further before I heard the clanking, hissing sounds of an active village. Soon after that, I caught the tantalizing aroma of warm bread and toasty treats darkened by the bitter scent of molten metal. Sizzling smoke emerged from the smithery carrying that harder smell. They were scents I was familiar with. The smells of a village. I was excited, but the jaded part of me still began to shake. Afraid of what I'd find there. What if it won’t be different? What if it is the same as in Ferns, despite all I’d hoped? He moved the bow to his other hand and held it at his side, open for me. Inviting me to put mine in it. I lunged to take it. Happy to hold onto him. Probably looking for the same comfort that a lost puppy on the road might. Reassurance. “I've got you." He whispered in that husky way of his. The village was much louder up close. A string of chaos. Dogs barking, and children laughing. People were moving, in every direction. Many were pushing carts laden with goods. Hawking their wares as they went. Their voices rising as they drew near gathered crowds. Their eyes lit as they met mine, filled with the hope of a sale. People still stared at me as they did in Ferus. But these eyed me with interest. To my shock, no one reached to brush a cloying hand on my arm. No one tugged my long hair or gave me a long, darkly assessing study as if assessing when they could get me alone. And try to hurt me. These people glanced, then looked to Jackson. Upon recognizing him, they looked away from both of us. No one was rude or disrespectful. After a few wary moments, I began to relax. I’m safe. It was a never-ending chant I had to whisper to myself to keep from freaking out. Day in, and day out. I’m safe… Though calmer, I didn't relinquish my hold on Jackson. I needed him there, to shield me from exposure to this new world. A world with which I can interact with.

109 Let Her Go In the next few days, I recognized the territory we were approaching. Chaos had been sending me curious glances which told me he'd noticed too. I hadn't acknowledged the question he was sending me. Eventually, he let the others fall ahead. Then he brushed Bea's arm in order to alert her that he was leaving her side. The moment Chaos left Bea’s side, Lara was moving into step with the younger girl. My eyes narrowed on Lara. Wondering what she was up to. She'd been sending Bea ugly stares this whole time. But now she’s approaching her? I had questions but I didn’t have time to ponder them before Chaos reached me. “Why are we heading into Asara territory?" “We can't keep her with us, my son." I told Chaos. “She's too volatile. She could get frightened and turn on one of us. Possibly, hurt one of you. We can't let that happen." It’s Fury and my job to protect all of you now. I realized that was what Fury had meant when he called me a ‘den mother’. I’m responsible for all of them. It was even more stark to me now that where I felt the pressure of protecting every pup in this pack, Fury had felt that for every one of his descendants. All while watching them turn on each other and break his laws. That must be agonizing. I blew a long breath. Chaos was drawing me back to his questions. “So, we're just going to turn her over to another pack?" “The Asara don't force females to be pack bitches like that." “Still," Chaos frowned, gesturing in the direction of the Asara Pack territory. “if she's scared of us, she’s going to be petrified of them." “I know that." I agreed with him. “But she needs the safety of a pack, and proper socialization if she's ever going to recover from her trauma. She needs the chance to find a mate that will safeguard her from any future threats.” “Socialization?” He asked, lifting his brows. The word was foreign to him. “It’s the process of ensuring that wolves can interact with the others in a way that allows them to be a unified pack. One that doesn’t, is no more than a rogue or a stray. Which is really just waiting to die.” “Weren’t you a rogue for a while.” “I was waiting for the proper pack.” I gave a wink and rumble as I smiled fondly at him. He chuckled. Then looked back at Jace and Bryce. Gesturing to them. “What if one of them hopes to claim her?" “I doubt that." I gave him a skeptical glance. “They're all eyeing her, as if afraid she might start them on fire." Dimples flashed in Chaos's cheeks. “I suppose you're right." He looks so much like his father when he smiles like that. I couldn't help thinking. I reached to stroke the back of his head, smoothing down his hair as I’d often done when he was little. But now I have to reach up. I frowned as I noted how much he'd grown. And how close he is to being on his own. “I usually am." I smiled teasingly. “I know." He groaned in objection. “It’s terribly annoying, Ma." I gasped in feigned outrage and gave the back of his head a playful whack. He chuckled. Ducking his head into his shoulders and dodging the hit. He skittered away. But as he'd went to return to Bea's side he caught sight of Lara next to her. Whispering in her ear. Chaos froze, a contemptuous expression spreading over his face. I quickly caught his arm. Nodding for him to walk with me. I didn’t want to interrupt them yet. I want to hear what Lara is saying to her. We crept closer. Staying behind her and Bea so Lara wouldn't notice our eavesdropping. “If you go to the humans, they'll take you in.” Those were the most despicable words I’d heard from any wolf’s mouth. I clenched my teeth, tempted to attack her for encouraging Bea to go live amongst the humans. To violate Fury’s most sacred law. “But they hate wolves!" Bea innocently objected. “So, you don't let them know what you are.” Lara shrugged. “If they don't know… You're just a helpless young woman. The best part is that other wolves won't look for you amidst the humans." “That sounds horrible!" Bea withdrew, reviled by the prospect. “Why would I want to hide my wolf?" Good girl. I thought. Disgusted by what Lara had been telling her. “To get away from them. Human males are far kinder to their females." “I don't want to hear anymore." Bea walked faster in order to leave the woman behind. Bea wanted away from the woman and her ugly words. Lara, with her long, dirty, blonde hair moved to go after Bea. “Lara." Fury's booming voice froze the woman in her tracks before she could take a full step after the girl. She didn't look back at him, but the stiffening of her back and the trembling of her hands gave away her fear. She knows she was saying things she shouldn’t have been. She’s right to fear him. Even I felt guilty for having heard it. But I’d done nothing as I decided what to do. Whereas Fury was never one to waste time. He approached her. Stopping short of touching her as he stepped into her path. Facing her angrily. “You do understand that wolves in man's lands violate my laws, do you not?" She faced him with huge, startled eyes. I gave Chaos a light push. Guiding him away from me so we could part and go around the two. Chaos hurriedly caught up to Bea. Wanting no part of the conversation. I could tell from the way he was holding her away from him to eye her, that he was asking her if she was okay. I slow walked in order to wait for Fury. I could still hear them behind me. I could feel rage vibrating off him. Every word Lara spoke made him madder. “How did you-" She started, baffled that he could've heard her from the back of our line. I knew how he had. He has exceptional hearing. “Your laws!" She cut herself off to ask in horror. I knew that tone. She was starting to understand exactly who she was dealing with. Fury. The Original. The first of all half- wolves. All wolves breathing today were his legacy. It was rather stunning to realize. A glance over my shoulder revealed all of that pouring over Lara’s features. “I didn't... I only meant-" “I know precisely what you meant." He snapped. “Wolves and humans don't mix. Whenever they do, someone gets hurt. I'll hear no more talk of such things." She closed her mouth and said nothing further. Her bottom lip trembled so fiercely that I thought she might sob. *** We’d been walking most of the day and I was exhausted. Relief poured over me as I saw the Asara wall coming into view in the distance. Perhaps, beneath layers of fear and disdain, Lara was a sweet she-wolf, but her constant agitation made it hard to tell. She slowed her pace, scanning the wall stiffly as the others strode past her and kept going. Fury shot me an apprehensive glance. I knew what he was thinking because I'd been thinking the same thing as we got closer. This is going to get ugly. Fury gestured for us all to stop. He drew closer to me to whisper. “If she bolts, let her go. If she wants to be a stray rather than participate in the solidarity of a pack, that is her choice." I nodded my understanding. Faintly surprised that he’d so willingly let her wander these forests by herself. He was wise to tell me. I probably would've had the boys chase her down for fear that her refusal to join the Asara could land her right back in a similar situation as what she’d escaped. Another pack's bitch. I felt a pang of sympathy for her. As difficult as she was, I understood she had good reason to be. I crooked a finger toward Chaos, beckoning him over. Fury walked alone to the door of the Asara wall. I was aware he'd want to advise Edrick personally, of what we had in tow. To ensure he was willing to take her in before we broke the news to her. I whispered to Chaos, the same thing that Fury had told me. “Let her go if she bolts.” “What?” He frowned. “Just let her run, no point in forcing her.” “Okay…” He shrugged. Acknowledging the direction. I knew he'd check the others if the instance arose that he had to. I noticed Lara watching us in my peripheral. I’d noted yesterday that with her hair washed, we could tell she had long, straight, golden blonde strands etched with silver. Her skin was a lovely sun-kissed gold, and she had luminous green eyes. Her new hide dress suited her slim form. She was quite beautiful and could easily find a good mate. If she gives them half a chance. I thought. Many of the males amongst the Asara, would yearn for her which meant only one strong enough to defend her would be able to fight off the others to claim her. I had high hopes for her future. But I worried too. Being a prisoner of the Night Hunters had done its part to nurture in her a deep venomous hatred for pack males. It seemed that every step she took, only gave her more time for that venom to spread and grow into a deep root of animosity which nearly consumed all she might've been before. The things they took from her were far more than physical. I thought sadly. Fury was inside for a good while. I saw Lara move and glanced over. I watched as she quietly made her way into a lump of the darkest trees nearby. It wasn't hard to imagine that her apprehension had grown to unbearable heights as we waited for Fury. Bryce and Kirk went to move after her. Chaos stopped Bryce's large frame with a hand to his chest. He whispered to Kirk on his other side, to stay. Explaining that they weren't going after her. They dutifully settled. Obeying him.

60 Not Mine Once Eric had realized that Allison Smalls was going to be at Clark & Walker too, he knew he had to be there. It would be the first chance he'd had to have a conversation with her since the day she'd decided she hated him enough to never answer another of his calls or texts. Just left him hanging there, wondering how he'd become so easy to throw away. He'd realized then that even after all they'd been through, he was nothing to her. She’d essentially crumpled him, and all the years they’d had together, up in her hands and thrown their history out of her mind. All because he'd wanted to finish college and make something of himself so he could make sure she'd feel secure in the future. He’d wanted to be sure he could always support them. Even when they, one day, he’d dared to hope, had a family. He stood. Setting the pictures on the table near the couch as he went by. He found his feet carrying him into his room. He opened the top drawer and pulled out a small, velvety, blue box. He rubbed the spot on the top with his thumb, a spot where he'd almost worn away the softness to the lining beneath. He caught the lid with his thumbnail and flicked it open to reveal two rings. A matching set. One ring had a large amber stone which symbolized her eyes in his mind. Tiny diamonds ran along both sides. Next to it, was the matching band. Though it wasn't as flashy it did have a similar layout to the stones. Making it glint strikingly. The familiar pain roared through him at the sight of it. There were weeks during college when he'd hardly eaten, in order to make sure his races were enough to pay for college and the ring. Even after the fight, after she'd left like she did, he kept paying for it in the hope that they'd eventually get back together the way they had all the times before. He'd clutched that little ring case like it was tiny, hot coal which he was using to guide his way through the darkness, over the next few years. But a little piece of coal can't illuminate the world forever. Eventually that light couldn't guide him anymore. He had to find something else to throw all his focus onto. So, he put that toward his future, to make her regret that she'd tossed him away like garbage. He worked. And he worked. Achieving more and more as he went. His relentless ambitions pushed him forward. If she ever saw him again, she would regret that he wasn’t hers. His achievements didn't bring him satisfaction. That knowledge did. When he saw that Nova in that parking lot, he'd known he'd take that job because somewhere in that building was Allison Smalls. The woman he’d spent every spare moment thinking about since he was in elementary school. He'd intended to go in there and prove to her that she was the one that was meaningless now. But one look at her angular youthful face, at that tight ponytail and her cool chocolate gaze, he'd wanted to shatter all that composure and take down that ponytail and turn those eyes amber with passion. He found himself yearning for her. The same as he had in high school. He'd thought he would show her how little she mattered to him, instead he found that every moment near her was like nails on the chalkboard of his mind. Ripping at his soul with each softly spoken word. The more time he spent with her, the more the shields of his wounded heart began to fall away, torn into bits at his feet. It was impossible to maintain them with her. Her touch was his undoing. The lightest brush, the scent of her hair as she went by, it was maddening. His father had warned him to never go near Allison again. He'd warned Eric that he couldn't endure that kind of breaking again. Eric knew that it hadn't been easy for his father to say. He'd seen Allison as a daughter-in-law. He’d loved her like she was his own blood. Eric flicked the lid closed and set the box back in his drawer. He sank to the floor in the corner of his room, dialing his father’s number before setting the phone on the floor next to him. His hands cupping the sides of his head as he waited for an answer. “Hey, son!" Jack cheerfully answered. “Dad..." Eric said in a brittle voice. “Eric?" His father asked worriedly. “Tell me you haven't spent time with Allison." He said it like it had been his fear all along. A crackling inhalation was his father's answer. “Eric, no!" His father sounded as distraught as Eric felt. “You can't spend any time with that girl without loving her all over again. You know that!" “I thought..." “It's in your nature to love that girl, my boy. You locked on when you were knee high, and decided you'd love her forever." “It wasn't really a choice." It was nowhere near that simple for Eric. If that was the case, he’d have just chosen not to do it anymore, later. “No." His father's tone softened. “I suppose it wasn’t." Eric's voice was tight with anguish. “She knows." His father was quiet. Understanding the gravity of that statement. “What do you need me to do?" “I need to get out of here. Away from her. I feel like I'm drowning." “I know, son. I can come get you." “I'll come to you." “Are you sure?" His father asked softly. As if he knew how destroyed Eric felt. “Yes." “Eric?" “Yeah, dad?" “Did you find out? About the little girl?" “She's not mine dad." “You always say that. But how do you know?" “She told me the date Emily was born. It was almost a year after we broke up." “When you say almost a year, what do you really mean?” His dad carefully probed Eric’s tired brain. “Twelve months?" “No, less than that." “Ten?" “No, uh, about eight and some I think." Eric shoved a hand through his hair. Trying to push the base of his palm against the emerging headache beginning behind his brow. He just needed to get away from this place. Away from Clark & Walker. His father's silence extended forever, but Eric was too distraught to notice. “Eric?" His father's voice was rising. “How long do you think women are pregnant?" “I don't know." Eric said in aggravation. Growing impatient with his father's tone and the pain of the subject in general, he said gruffly. “A handful of months, or so." “Or so." His father was becoming nearly shrill. “Stop being patronizing. I didn't have sisters or a mother if you recall?” Eric had never even lived with a woman that he could remember, other than Allison’s mom. And she certainly hadn’t discussed the subject with him. “You know I haven’t had any women in my life to discuss that shit with. How the hell would I know the exact number? How is this relevant?" Eric had picked up the phone in his annoyance and was nearly shouting in it. “Didn't you have biology in college?" Eric's brow crinkled in annoyance. “Yes, and I passed it. But I hardly retained any of it, I knew my career was going to be in stocks and investments. What the hell are you so upset about?" His father was silent a long while. “Well?" “Human pregnancy is forty weeks." Eric fell back against the wall, his eyes rounding in the dark. He shook his head as he figured all that math in his head. The math of those weeks, of the time, of everything… “Ten months?" “It doesnt come out to that exactly, but in a nutshell, that’s-" “Bitch." Eric roared. The phone went dead on Jack’s end. Because Eric had thrown it across the room. He slid up the wall to his feet. Barely pulled on socks and shoes before he was out the door. *** I'd gotten home and checked in with Regina before heading back up to my restless bed. Flopping side to side as I stared at dark walls. Replaying that horrible conversation in my mind, in excruciating detail. Even the rain on my window couldn't soothe me tonight. It was nearly midnight when I heard the kind of knock at my door that would wake the dead. The kind of knock the police do when they have a warrant for you and think you might have weapons in the house. I was terrified. I pulled on my satin robe. Clutching it around me as I hurried downstairs. Worried that everyone was going to be awakened by whatever was at the door. I didn't even get my bonus check from Clark & Walker. I haven’t done anything that could be suspect. What else could I have done wrong? There was another violent knock on the door before I reached it. When I threw open the door, I was astonished by what I saw. Eric was outside my door in the pouring rain. Equally as wet now as I'd been when I got to his house. He was wearing only those worn, white jeans and a pair of beat-up tennis shoes. His toned, tanned chest was covered in dark tattoos, as were his arms, knuckles, and neck. He was so tense that the veins in his arms were jutting, and his jaw was tight. But my gaze found its way back to those tattoos. I’d thought some were missing before. Now I saw that he hadn't gotten rid of any of them. He uses something to cover them up. I saw his hair was pushed back from his face, smoothed flat by the rain. He'd have looked like something from a sexy calendar, had his expression not been sheer violence. “Eric?" I asked quizzically as it dawned on me that he was exuding malcontent. I backed up from the door in an instinctive need to put space between myself and the raw rage written over him. His arms were wound with tight veins, his fists clenched in a white-knuckled grip. He looked fit to hit something. He descended on me. Stepping into the doorway and towering over me.

10 Only One Way I flipped it open and touched the fine pages reverently. It was beautiful. I hadn’t known that humans, Skins, could make something so delicate. “It's a book about Man's lands." Another of the females cleaning today, Carol, walked into the chamber behind me. I jumped at her voice. Flinching at being caught. I shouldn’t have been snooping. That’s one of Markinnon’s cardinal rules for allowing us in the castle. I was still inwardly reprimanding myself as she wandered in to stroke the cover of that book. As it held a million memories for her. As she stood there staring at it, I gathered some gumption. Desperately wanting to ask the question rampaging through my mind. “How do you know?” “It’s his favorite." She whispered. More for her ears than mine. After a time, she looked up at me, her eyes filling with unspent emotion. Her whole posture changed as she pushed aside whatever she'd been thinking. She squared her shoulders and walked to the door. “Hey!" I cried. “How did you know all that?” If she could read, I wanted to learn where she had been taught. I want to know how! I imagined all the secrets that could be in that book. Things which he knows, and I don’t. Because he could read. I envisioned him sitting there, book in hand. Soaking up those words in one of those rare moments when he was not in perpetual motion. “Stay the year." Carol said from the doorway, her expression saddened. “He'll teach you before he sends you away." I chewed my lip. Sends me away. “No, I-” I took a step after her. I won’t be the one staying the year. I wouldn’t be the one walking that long, crowded span up to the castle, for everyone to see. No. That will never be me. I planned to be safely tucked away in my treehouse when that happened. Good luck getting me then KJ. He’d have no choice but to pick another. I could be punished for defying our next alpha. But that was a problem that I would worry about after the Mating Moon. I’d rather be whipped then be claimed like that. “That's what he does." She gripped the door. “He sends you away at the end of that year. No matter how well you behave..." “I wouldn't!" I reared back. Watching her pulling the door closed. “I would never-” “Don't forget to scrub that looking glass to a shine." She murmured cutting me off as she gestured to the wall length looking glass, across from the bed before she clunked the door closed. Leaving me there alone. She talked to me like she’s certain it will be me. Did she hear him talking in the bailey? I was so nervous my hands were beginning to shake. My stomach was tight with fear. Why else would she sound so sure? I didn't like having it closed. I could hear some clattering around on the first floor. Oh, no. The Lariot boys are back in. I looked around. Inspecting the room to see if it looked well enough that I could claim I was finished and get well from it. But one ugly smudge on that huge looking glass caught my eye. I hurried to it, ignoring my full-length reflection within, as I dunked my rag and grabbed a husk of soap weed to scrub the edge with a handprint. As I drew near, I was astonished at the sheer size of the thing. It was tall enough to touch the ground and still go well over my head. And more than twice the width of me across. The frame was sleek and ornate, but it had leather straps along the top which looked like they should’ve held it to the wall. But they currently dangled loosely. However, that was far too tall for me to reach. No way that I could, without leaving more handprints. Those will just have to stay loose. I didn’t have time to fiddle with them. I had cleaned the wall near it, close enough that it could’ve been me to leave that handprint. Careless. I chided myself. Thinking I could already be done. Hopefully they won’t come up for a while. If they do, if he comes in here, I’m going to raise the roof. I promised myself. Prince or no prince. I fisted the soap weed and leaned against that edge. Pressing hard with the weed to form a lather which would help cleanse the oil from someone’s skin. But as I put my weight into it, something gave. The looking glass jolted loose. I thought it was slipping down the wall and would inevitably crash and shatter. Instead, it pushed in on the side I was leaning on. Carrying my weight forward with it as it turned. Rotating inward and tossing me into another room. Stumbling for footing. The door continued scraping over the floor before flattening back into the wall. Leaving me cast into pitch darkness. The looking glass clicked into place as if latching itself. From within that chamber, it would appear precisely the same as it was when I came in. But it had thrown me into an entirely different room. I whipped around to claw at it. In a blink, I'd adjusted my vision and could see every crack in the rocky walls and every fragmented tip of spiky stone. I stepped back and charged back into the back of the looking glass-or door, whatever it was. I have to get back through. No one will know I’m here. I was already beginning to panic. Everyone will wonder where I’ve gone. Markinnon will be furious! My distress was growing as I fumbled along the edge of that makeshift door, trying to find a way to open it back up. No wonder there were latches along the top. How could I have been so stupid. I could see the prickle of the rocks along the sides of the mirror and knew this was an unfinished room. Some kind of secret passage. A forgotten one, perhaps. That made me angry. Wondering who had unfastened those latches. Shouldn’t they have realized that someone could get hurt. Or lost… “There’s no way back in. No way out of this room. Except through me.” The cool masculine voice came from behind me. 11 Secret Room That voice had my skin prickling. It echoed on in this chamber, seeming to echo forever. I stepped back from the door, my arms falling as I racked my brain. This can’t be real. I refused to turn around. I stared at the wall framing that door. The edges were crude. Perhaps I could climb them. I looked up. And saw no opening in the ceiling. Very afraid he was right. I slowly turned to face my enemy. Chains rattled as someone moved. I froze as I spotted him. Those long links of chain dangling from his fist. “You cannot go so still, that I would not see you.” Amusement tinged that dark voice. I stopped breathing. “You're too late anyway. I've already set my gaze on you." I knew KJ’s voice. I knew he was in this strange dark room with me. I edged back to try pushing on that door, a few more times. And the wall around it. Shoving, pulling, trying hard to find a fingerhold which might prove to be a latch. Raw panic settled deep into my being sending a cold shadow over me, and making all the hair on my body stand on end. My wolf felt my distress and her fur began to push against my pores creeping out. His eyes flared in the darkness, warning me. “If she comes out, she and I are going to play.” “Wh-what…Do you mean, KJ?” “I mean. I’ll fuck you right here and now, Henna. Without so much as the hint of preamble. I will turn with you.” I don’t want that. I need time. To think, to come up with a plan. I needed to keep him talking, I realized. I was trapped in this small, desolate room and I couldn’t spot any trace of a way in or out. But he came in a different way. I glanced over his shoulder. “Stop looking, Little Hen. No way out but me.” The hard note in his voice made me tremble. The looking glass wasn't budging. There was no opening anywhere. I was breathing rapidly, fighting my instinctive response to turn into a wolf to defend myself. That won’t help me here. It’s too close to the Mating Moon for that. Every male for miles would smell me. “You made this happen." I accused. Turning so my back wasn't to him. All the while I still fumbled along that wall. Hoping to find some secret handle that would let me out, just as fast as it had let me in. “Not so much I... Though my desire for you has been made clear to anyone with ears." I thought he was joking. Or trying to scare me. I’d always suspected he just liked making me uncomfortable. I hadn’t thought any of it was real. Until that grove, today. I waited for him to say more with baited breath. Hoping any second, I'd discover the truth to getting out of here. “Every year, the girl I've declared as my chosen is sent up to this castle, and to clean my chamber..." I could see he was sitting in a plain wooden chair. Leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He fingered a length of chain inspecting every link pensively. “Then she is reminded to clean my looking glass. Even though she can see the leather latches along the top, none of them ever suspects...” “That’s because we wouldn’t think someone is sending us into your trap.” “Perhaps you should.” He fingered the links. Inspecting them for something. “All is fair under the Mating Moon, little one.” His voice was quiet, making me focus to listen. Each word was methodical. Setting hooks deep into my nerves. “But you," He rose from the chair. Letting the shackle thunk to the stone floor. I winced, the sound rattled through me. “You, I almost hoped..." “Hoped what, KJ?" I said acidly. More to distract him then to hear more. “I don't know." He waved a hand. Revealing the glint of a thin chain twisted around his forearm, with a large key dangling from it. A key to those shackles. I swallowed. He plans to put me in those. My stomach dropped to the floor. This is bad. Very bad. “Perhaps I'd hoped that you'd refuse to clean the chamber because it was mine. Or possibly, when you were told to scrub that looking glass, you'd be too clever for it. And you’d have told them you would not, in that special way of yours." He stopped before me. Drawing his short dagger from the sheath at his waist. I inhaled sharply. Feeling the first real chill of fear. Is he that angry because I rejected him. He turned the dagger. Lightly tapping my chin with the handle, as if to emphasize his point. “Or is it only me that you tell to go to hell?" “You should let me out. Now." I urged Forcing my voice to remain calm. I did my best to exude confidence and sound threatening. I knew that showing a wolf fear always ended in misery. If I jumped to escape his touch, it’d trigger him to attack me. “But that's you, isn't it?" He continued as if I hadn't said anything. “Always trying to goad me." “Telling you to piss off is not goading.” I argued sternly. Careful not to raise my voice enough to incite him. I sensed the tension running through him and knew how much danger I was in, in this little room with shackles in his hands. “Ah, but you always say more than that, don't you?" He walked to the side of me. Offering me a clear view of the opposite wall. I scanned it almost frantically. There has to be a door. Where is the door! How else could he have gotten in! He put his elbow and forearm against the wall above my head. “You have to get your claws under my skin every chance you get, don’t you." He imitated claws with his other hand. But I could tell he wasn’t playing. He’s dead serious. “Sometimes, a she-wolf’s claws are just a bit too long, and they have to be trimmed down.” He indicated a scraping motion. The way he said that told me we were talking metaphorically. This isn’t about my claws. He was saying he intended to tame me.

57 Wicked Promises His hand exposed one cheek of my rear and I felt his artistic fingers making their way deeper between my thighs, burrowing beneath my skirt to reach me. I felt the first brush against my center and I gasped. “Mmm.” He rumbled approvingly. “Now, there’s a sound I like. Give me more, woman.” “I’m not going to-” I was cut off when one of those fingers pushed through my center to lodge in my center. Pressing up and stretching my lining so I could feel every knuckled of him stroking me inside. I panted. Clutching the tree. My nails pushing into the bark as I clung to it. Trying to stifle the little moans that kept spilling out of me. “Do you want to feel me inside you? Right here, out in the open for everyone to see?” “No.” “You must, if you intend to deny me later.” “Kurik…” “It’s very simple, Sara. I can bring you to a full orgasm so you can scream into the trees, right here. Or you can give me time to play with every perfect inch of your body, later, in the privacy of your house. Where no one but you and I will hear your complete surrender.” I gritted my teeth. “You’re every kind of a bastard.” He pushed that finger inward again and leaned his pelvis into me so I could feel the hard bit of flesh pushing against his pants. Ready to slide into me at the slightest provocation. “Fine!” I cried out. Still trying to shove away from the tree. Wiggling in every direction as I tried to escape that relentless touch that was making my legs shake and my toes curl. “What?” He asked acidly near my ear. “Say it to me.” “You can fuck me later Kurik.” I forced the words through gritted teeth. Hating every one of them. “Oh, no sweetheart. You wish that’s what I’m going to do to you. It’s easier that way, isn’t it? I’m going to take my time, until you’re offering me every whining cry. You’ll be mine.” “Fine.” I snapped. “Get off me.” He chuckled. An ice-cold sound that made the hair on my neck tingle beneath his breath. He gave my inner thigh a possessive squeeze that would leave tiny bruises where his fingertips were later. Then he gave a last bite against the side of my neck, making me instinctively freeze, terrified he was going to feed on me. “Later.” He released me all at once. As if he was promising himself as much as me. I was abruptly shoved away from him. Set free of his possessive clutches. I whirled around to put my back against the tree, glaring at him as my chest heaved with the urge to strike him. A building sensation which piled atop itself in layers until I could no longer resist. My hand shot out. I knew, even before he caught it, that he would. But I curled my fingers in and had my web pouring over him, cutting into every inch of his skin. Ripping through the layers in a diamond pattern. Each edge cutting like a knife. His blood poured in drops. He clenched his teeth and his arms tightened. Every muscle in his body trying to resist the magic which was ripping through him. “Sae!” I heard Marlay’s horrified shriek as she reached us. “What have you done to him.” “Nothing less than he deserves.” It felt good to reassert that I was the one in control. “It’s worth it.” He grinned maliciously, even through the pain. “Your every moment of complacency brings me closer to my infinite desires.” “A fact which I’m painfully aware. Forgive me for never turning my back on my biting pet, again.” He laughed. A sound which chaffed over every one of my nerves. “Stop!” Marlay wailed. Clutching my arm. “Let him go before you cut him apart.” “It’d be no less than he deserves.” I was glaring at him steadily. My hate was a blade sharpened by every melting touch that set me on fire. Burning that blade into something so sturdy it could never be shattered. “He wasn’t the one that killed her, Sae.” I shot her a pained look. “Don’t bring that up.” “It’s true!” She cried. Tugging on me like a bird pulling at an eagle. “He didn’t slaughter our sister. It wasn’t him.” “It was. The same thing as, Marlay. Don’t defend him.” “I’m not.” She said more softly. “Holy shit!” Nicholas cried. “What are you doing to him? Why? Why are you hurting him!” My jaw tightened. Kurik’s and my gaze were locked in a neverending dual. He was no more likely to break that gaze than I was. Even if it kills him. Marlay could no longer stand his pain. She lunged her weight over my forearm, forcing my arm down and releasing Kurik from his pain. I shot her a furious look. “You have no idea what you’ve done.” She took a step backward, shocked by the level of my rage. “He’s a monster!” “He’s not, Sae.” She shrinked away. Looking as though she’d cover her head to hide from me any moment. “He’s not like those others.” “They’re all the same. Quit hiding your head in the sand. You’re missing the obvious!” “I’m not Sae.” She dared to whisper. “You’re so buried in your hate that you can’t see what’s right in-front of you. He’s not our enemy.” “I see otherwise.” I returned my attention to him. The moment my netting had dissipated, his body had reacted. Wounds were sealing shut and lone drops of blood were spilling to the yellow grass. Tainting it an ugly shade of brown. “You see what you want.” She defended. “Why don’t you-just once, talk to him about what happened.” “It sounds a bit like you’re in love with him.” I accused her. Marlay rolled her eyes, throwing her hands up in annoyance. “Sometimes you’re the stupidest smart person I know. Kurik is gorgeous, there’s no denying that, but he is my brother. He loves only one woman. He’ll always love only one.” She glared at me hotly. Her hands turning to white-knuckled fists. “You’re the stupidest smart person!” “Don’t call me that.” My eyes narrowed on her. “Stupid?” She crossed her arms angrily. “Then don’t be it!” “You’ve quite a mouth on you this morning.” “And you’ve quite the temper.” “I always have a temper.” I said dryly. Straightening. “But it’s especially unpleasant this morning.” “Perhaps, that is because I wasn’t permitted,” My head whipped back to Kurik who was standing there quietly huffing. Stewing in his own ire. “to get any sleep last night.” “You slept.” He said flatly. “Or you wouldn’t have dreamed.” I charged toward him, but Nicholas abruptly grew a pair and stepped before me. Blocking my view of Kurik. He carefully set his hands atop my shoulders. “Let’s just hate him in silence.” He suggested. “From a distance…For a while.” “Get your hands off me.” “Okey dokey.” He lifted them so they hovered as he slowly retracted them as if I were a snake that would strike at sudden movement. “Let’s just take it easy, can we do that?” “How about you go take the pieces and get them buried.” I matched his high pitched suggesting voice. “Okay…” He withdrew. “I’m going to go do that. Marlay?” “Yes.” “Let’s give her a moment to breathe and perhaps cool down.” His voice was slightly high, nervous. Kurik was still glaring right back at me. “You’ll never scare me enough I stop trying.” “No amount of your trying will soften me.” “Perhaps we’ll see…Later.” I snarled in wrath and stepped to the side in the trees, crossing my arms and waiting for Kurik to pick up the disconnected legs and get moving. I was unwilling to walk in front of him again. As he’d said, my complacency was my weakness. It brings him closer to me. I couldn’t bear that thought. No more complacency. Ever.

87 Ageing Doc sighed. Clearly reluctant to be the one to half to explain it to me. “He ages far different than you and I. He had a teenager's body by his first birthday." Which brought one question to the forefront of my mind. “Then will he die earlier than the rest of us?” “That is the question. Now, isn't it?" Doc frowned. “We don't know." Alder said blandly. As if it didn’t matter. I glowered at him. “What does that mean!" He was refusing to look at me again. “Ssh." Alder put a finger to his lips. “We don’t know where the basters are. Keep shouting at me like that, and they’ll be on their way shortly.” “Shouting?” My voice rose. “You think this is me shouting.” I was about to show him shouting. “Now, now." Doc stepped in. “Hold on a minute." I shot him a look. My chest heaving, and my heart racing in my ears. He should’ve told me that when we first started getting serious. I knew in the back of my mind that he likely would’ve thought it didn’t matter. It matters to me! “We don't know anything at all.” Doc clarified. “But I have some theories.” “Could those injections that Tilda had the basters giving him, have been what did that?” “No.” Doc shook his head. “Those were sedatives and muscle relaxers, synthetics engineered to operate on his higher metabolism. Besides, the others from his batch, were experiencing the same unique side effect.” He really does talk like a scientist. I noted. “They were to keep me docile.” Alder elaborated. Resentment entering his voice. I saw his jaw tightening in annoyance just thinking about it. I recalled that there had been one point when I thought those injections were what made him stronger. No, they were to keep him manageable. It was almost laughable that I thought otherwise. I’d been very naïve to everything related to him then. The little voice in my head defended. “When you say ‘batch’ do you mean there were other children?” “Yes.” Doc affirmed. “Well!” I demanded. “How fast are they ageing now.” Doc grimaced. “We don’t know.” “Why!” “I killed them.” Alder dismissed. Watching the sand ahead of us, carefully. “Why?” “He didn’t have a choice.” Doc explained. “The others were innately more aggressive.” “They kept attacking me.” Alder elaborated. “When they attacked, I won.” “They wouldn’t stop until he killed them.” Doc said thoughtfully, as if that still puzzled him. “I think they were triggered by some dominant pheromone that Alder possessed. They wanted to be dominant, so in turn, had to slaughter the one with the greatest ability for supremacy.” “What?” I snapped. Barely understanding a word of that. “They thought they’d be more likely to be a leader when we were grown, if I was dead.” Alder simplified. “That’s weird.” “Our genetics were weird.” Alder remarked. “Not weird.” Doc lifted a finger. “A triumph!” “He’s quite proud.” Alder commented. “But here’s what is interesting.” Doc continued. He either thought that telling me more would calm me down or he was simply such a scientist, that he couldn’t stop talking about how fascinating it was. For the moment, I was willing to listen. “I've been doing regular weekly exams of him ever since he was the equivalent of a ten-year-old.” Doc related. “And what I've found, actually supports the opposite of rapid deterioration.” Which would be what? This conversation wasn’t proving particularly helpful. “What would be the opposite?" Doc gave Alder a worried glance, as if asking permission to answer. Instead, Alder filled in the silence with the answer. “It appears that I've stopped ageing entirely." “Completely.” Doc swished his hands to the side to emphasize the point. That shut me up. I was quiet a long while. Looking from one to the other next to me as I tried to muddle my way through what they were telling me. “How is that possible?” “We don't know." Alder repeated that familiar phrase. I was getting real tired of hearing those words together like that. “My potential immortality is the real reason Tilda wanted me." Alder explained. Dropping that little bomb like he was talking about morning coffee. “What?” I blinked incredulously. “What does that have to do with her desire to bump you?” “Bump me?” Alder’s brows lifted as he gave me a long study. I blushed furiously. “Whatever. You know what I mean.” “Well,” Doc fiddled with his lab coat, moving it forward and back as he was thinking how to explain to me what he was trying to say. “With the stem cells of any potential offspring, she'd have had the opportunity to infect herself with a similar condition." “With immortality?” I was appalled. I could feel my disgust written across my face. “Tilda wants a baby? For that?" I had so many questions. “From me.” Alder specified. Hatred creeping into his tone as he bitterly added. “Only to kill it." “That's why you refused her?" He scoffed. “Not nearly. That’s only one of countless reasons." “He really doesn't like her." Doc explained. “I see that." I’d seen it every time he interacted with her. Alder looked away. Shifting in discomfort. “We need to move faster." Alder said. Kneeling down to eye a dip in the sand. I peered over his shoulder. It didn’t look like anything to me. “I've picked up their tracks. They're headed for the tunnels." “That’s not a track.” I objected. “Heel print.” He gave me a look. “Would you like to be our tracker?” “No, I would not.” I shook my head. Taking his point. “We have to beat them to the tunnels.” My head whipped in his direction. That’s impossible! “How we going to do that?” Alder pointed toward a towering dune big as a hiking hill. “That way." “There's no way." I gaped at it. During my time on my own, I'd tried numerous times to shortcut over those. “They're impossible to climb. I’ve tried." “Not with me.” He gave me a stern glance. He was right about that. “We can do it, if we do it right.” He unhooked a couple lengths of rolled rope from somewhere at his back. He’d had them stuck in his waistband, I guessed. He must’ve gathered them from somewhere in the Main House. Did he know we were going to have to do this? My stomach sunk with dread. It didn’t really matter if he did or he didn’t, we don’t have a choice at this point. “I've spent the last few hours trying to keep from being tied up." I expostulated. Glaring at him. “Fun as that sounds," He pointed at me with the rope. “You're going to be tied to me. Not by me." “Doesn’t sound like much difference to me.” My shoulders slumped. Doc muttered something. Rounding to quickly escape whatever this conversation was. “No!" Alder barked. “Get back here, old man. You, too." “Me too, what?" Doc hesitantly returned. A frown on his face. “I was leaving you to enjoy your argument.” “Who enjoys an argument?” I gave him a skeptical look. “You, apparently.” He pointed out. “You keep doing it.” He looked at Alder tying an end of each rope, around his waist. “With him.” “Tie yourself to me.” Alder handed me the other end of one of them. And Doc the other. “We're going to climb that together." “Like hell!" Doc stared slack-jawed at the steep dune. “I'm too old for that shit! I'm going back up to the House. I'll be fine." Alder snatched him by the back of his white lab coat. “No, you will not. If they can't get me back, they'll want someone to target that rage toward." “But I've done nothing!" “Other than failing to inject me with the sedative and toxin compounds." “They won't figure that out!" Doc objected. “Even if they do not, it'll be your creature that defied them." Doc winced at that. Hearing the truth in it. “You're not a creature!" I interjected softly. Alder cast me a dismissive glance. “As far as they're concerned, I am.” I hated the sound of that. It made me angry. He’s not a ‘thing’ or a monster. “There was a time," Alder gently reminded as he watched my alternating expressions. “That even you thought so." I blanched. “I know differently now." He gave a short laugh which almost sounded like relief. “Tie 'em up." He urged Doc and I to take the rope ends. We dutifully cinched the ropes around our waists. Weaving them under and over as he directed us. Weaving the excess around behind us. “Hey! What's going on here!" It was either Clyde or Carl asking the question. I wasn't entirely sure which was which yet. “You two are going to take these ends of rope and wrap them. Drop through the loop at your back." Alder ordered them. The other brother had come over to join the first and was now nodding. He caught the rope at Doc's back and did what Alder had told him. The disgruntled brother took my rope, muttering “What the hell is this? I didn't escape that containment box to be part of some damn chain gang." I shot him a disconcerted glance. Realizing he sounded like a former felon. I watched him tying the rope. Noting tattoos all over his forearms. Hopefully for check fraud. I dismissed my worries. Praying he wasn't a killer. I shook away my stupid thoughts. Reminding myself. This isn't the same world as before. Someone who could've been too dangerous for the world before could prove a beneficial ally now. I tried not to look at his scarred face as I set my judgements aside. Here we go... “Wendy. Karen. Come here." Alder summoned the women. “Tie what’s left of the ends around you. Make sure the knots are solid." “What are we doing?" The one behind me asked. Carl, I think? Maybe... “We're going to climb the high dune." I pointed. “You gotta be kidding me." He stared in disbelief. “That thing goes on forever.”

Chapter One Hundred Ninety-Six Bottom of It “I haven’t any idea…” Bast told the Weldons. He twisted to look at Alazareth. “Wasn’t me.” His twin shook his head. Denying that he’d delivered goods to the elderly couple. Alazareth looked equally as surprised as Sebastian did. “I wouldn’t have come all the way out here if I’d known.” That’s true. “They brought many of us supplies…” Mr. Weldon murmured, drawing Bast’s attention. “All through the country. We thought it was you…” “Sebastian?” Ms. Weldon said. “I don’t know who he was, but his men jokingly called themselves ‘The Seditious.’ Perhaps that helps?” “Yea, yea!” Mr. Weldon recalled. Pointing to Bast animatedly. “And they called him their king. We knew he wasn’t though, because no king looks that rough.” Mr. Weldon’s hand fell. “I noticed it was odd too, because it wasn’t yer highness, or anything fancy. Just ‘my king’.” “Bast!” Alazar barked from behind him. Lurched up enough to stand on the bench. He waved his arm frantically to summon his twin. What now? Bast strode to him. “They’re talking about the King of Assassins.” “What?” “His Seditious Lot call him ‘My King.’ And the Weldons just described the bunch.” “The boy running the Blue Lark Guild?” Bast’s brow knitted. “The Seditious Lot are all assassins?” Alazareth was nodding emphatically. “Yea. Yes! Yes.” “Why would he-” “I don’t know.” Alazar cut him off urgently. “But there’s a method behind everything that man does. He did this for a reason.” Bast shook his head in confusion, as he returned to the Weldons. “Well, whomever it was, I doubt they got the things you love imported from the Isle. So have your pick and we’ll be on our way.” The elderly couple wound hands, and happily hobbled to the carriage to peer inside. They selected a few rarer items. The FireStar sailors carried them inside for the elderly couple. “What the hell?” Bast muttered to Alazareth. Alazar shrugged, gesturing helplessly as he shook his head. “I don’t know!” “Sebastian?” Ms. Weldon’s soft voice rose from the doorway of her hut. “Yes, mum?” He paused to look at her, waiting. “Could you take our extra goods to that boy, he was so kind…To give to the others.” “The boy that brought you the goods?” “Yes. He says there’s more in the Blue Lark. Plenty more, so we should take whatever we wished.” She frowned. “I don’t know what the Blue Lark is.” “Guild. Guild!” Alazar hissed from behind him. Sebastian’s usually unflappable twin was very unsettled by this whole matter. Which made Bast unsettled. Still shaking his head, Bast hopped back atop the driver’s bench, and reined in the horses. Why? Why would an assassin give to the less fortunate of Ardae? It made no sense. That’s not what assassins are about… *** That evening, Sebastian and his FireStar crew sat circled around their fire, eating dried driter meat. Sebastian was sinking his teeth into the bits and ripping violently. His mind was working fervently. “So…” Alazar said. “It appears, Bast, you’re no longer the only one caring for the paupers of Ardae. How are you taking that?” “To tell you the truth, I’m not certain…I’m a bit worried that there may be a later cost they are expected to pay.” Alazar bit into his meat. “I’ve been thinking about that. I’ve concluded that Savage Jack doesn’t play coy games. He’s all for the people, feeding the downtrodden and stealing power from those that would abuse it.” “You think that’s what he’s doing, stealing power from me?” Alazar’s brow furrowed. “I don’t think so. I don’t see anyway that he’d perceive you as abusing it.” “Then why?” Alazar was still considering that when Bast spoke again. “Savage Jack…That’s a hell of a thing to call oneself.” “I don’t think he’s the one that devised it. But I would love for you to mention your thoughts to him.” “I don’t waste my time with assassins, something you know very well.” “Mmm.” Alazar grunted in acknowledgement. “As to your question, I’m as yet unsure. But I believe that if there was some expected cost for what he delivered, he’d have announced that at the get. He’s always been very clear with what he’s owed.” That eased Bast’s worries, a fair amount. “Then what do you imagine is the reason for him stealing this from us.” “I don’t know. What do you suppose would inspire someone to do what you do?” “I haven’t the faintest.” “Mmm.” Alazareth agreed. “The King of Assassins, of all people…He has some end game intended.” “He must.” Bast agreed. “Well,” Boy drew their attention. “I for one, think it a good thin’ tha’ someone trails yer step.” Both men turned similar gazes to him. “I rather enjoy envisionin’ more men wantin’ to ten’ those that could use a bit o’ help. I think it’s a grand idea. Someone should learn yer wily ways.” “Isn’t that what you’ve done?” Alazar countered. Boy shrugged in acknowledgement. “’e’s saved my skin mo’e ‘an once. Perhaps I do aspire ta be like ‘im.” He’s talking about when we got him back from that cimmerii woman that stole him years ago. Bast recognized. But he decided to lighten the mood. “Aww.” Bast threw his head back. Giving Boy a broad grin. “You do worship me! I knew it.” “Worship…” Boy rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Take a few words an’ enlarge ‘em…” “He is rather pretentious.” Alazar popped another bite of meat into his mouth. “Your envy is delightful.” Bast retorted. But without meaning to, he found himself massaging his shoulder where the old bite wound, he’d sustained during that incident still occasionally ached. It aches now just thinking about it. The sound of the beast’s teeth crunching into his shoulder, like ice splitting, still rang in his ears. *** LandingTown, Igonox Everywhere they’d gone to deliver the goods, they’d found that Savage Jack and his Seditious had already been there. Which left them with cartloads of goods. “What in Ardae are we going to do with it all?” Alazareth wondered, staring at them. “Give them to the man.” “What?” Alazar reared back as if Bast had slapped him. “You know this assassin, do you not? You run with them.” “I do know him, yes. He’s not one to be trifled with.” “I don’t care to trifle with him. Just give him the goods, tell him it’s to repay any debt of the people.” “And if he’s outraged?” “Leave it anyway.” “I don’t think you know this man…” “Leave it.” Bast insisted. “Like hell!” Alazar stalked away. Heading to the driver of the first cart to get them aimed in the direction of the Blue Lark. Their wheels groaned and clattered over rocks as they took off. “This is a terrible idea!” “It’ll be fine.” “You don’t know this man.” “You sound almost scared of him.” Bast’s brows lifted. “If you knew Savage Jack, you’d realize that it’s simply good sense not to cross him.” Alazar caught his steed’s reins. Giving Bast a dark look. “The mighty Alazareth Bodane, Nauvree of the bloodlust, afraid of another assassin…” “He’s not just an assassin.” Alazar explained. “The man is absolutely ruthless, ice cold blood flows in his veins, and far more terrifying than that is how easy it is to underestimated what is going on in his head. If you were to define dangerous, it would be the king of the Blue Lark.” “I am not afraid.” Bast dismissed. “You’re not the one off to slap his goodwill in the face with goods and snide remarks.” “We don’t know that goodwill was his motive.” “I don’t see what else it would be!” “I don’t see that any reason would make sense.” Alazar froze as if something had just dawned on him. “What?” Bast prompted. “What if he’s doing it, merely because he wanted to.” “I thought you said he was too calculating for that.” “Well, I thought so…” “Think about it on the way.” Bast struck Alazareth’s mount on the rear as he went by. Making the stallion rear next to Alazareth. His twin swore and fought to gain control of the animal. Bast, still snickering, headed through the dense crowds of LandingTown, aiming for where he always had the FireStar staked.

03 Pain in My Tail I had gone down to the main deck so I could lean out past the stern to see the silvery silhouette of the ship pursuing us. I growled under my breath, infuriated to see he was gaining on us. Lucien, you royal pain in my ass! “The crew are going to be pissed if he steals part of their stake this close to port again.” Gabe pointed out. As if I’m not already painfully aware of that fact. We had spent a fortnight out to sea taking the haul of three ships and some black-market cargo, before deciding to head back to port where we could sell our goods for a much higher price because of it’s difficulty to obtain. I was especially proud of the barrels of rare Isle of Wight gin. Those are going to go for a king’s ransom. Something all of my crew knew and had been looking forward to as well. They all have big plans for brothels and revelry. And if Lucien was able to steal their shares from me, they would think themselves deprived of those benefits. They’ll be furious. Even if I can compensate them later. They might very well kill me. I wasn’t worried about them coming after me. I knew what would happen if they did. They’d never get a hand on me. But when Molly leapt to my defense, she’d be exposed as what she is. They’ll call her a monster. I’d never be able to get her onboard a ship with another crew again. I can’t let that happen. I locked my jaw. Deep determination setting in. If Lucien expects to have the Sea Snake handed to him today, he’s got another thought coming! Still, he kept right on helpfully elaborating. “They'll want their share of the take, out of your hide." “I’m well aware of that Gabe. Thanks for the reminder.” I dismissed. “Have the men prepare the starboard side." I rushed up the steps of the poop deck, heading for the helm. “What are you planning?" Gabe nervously watched me going up there. Seeing that I had something in mind and sensing he wouldn’t like it. “We're going to hug the stoneface and shoot through the break straight to port." “The break!" Gabe cried. “It’s too narrow! We'll never make it." “You direct the sailors, I'll handle the ship." “Bex!" “Gabe remember where you are!" I snapped. Whipping my head in his direction. “Cap." He cleared his throat. “I must advise of the dangers." “I'm very clear on those." I snapped at him. “Weren’t you the one just saying that we couldn’t lose our cargo this close to port?” “Yes, but not if the option is us dying!” His voice rose in distress. “Then get ‘em moving!" I roared. Gabe swallowed, reluctantly backing up. I could tell there was much more he wanted to say. But I was in no mood to hear it. A fact which was painfully clear to him. He knows me that well. Lucien had made me lose face with my crew more times than I cared to count. He’s not doing it again. I promised myself. I steered the Sea Snake close to the stone cliff face. Bringing the ship around to run parallel to it. The gray stone was washed nearly black from the constant sea spray. We reached the fissure in the rock face, a narrow canyon which cut straight through the hillside and opened directly into the harbor. Where we can unload our cargo. We can make it. I felt a brush at my elbow. I knew that light nudge. It was how Molly and I hugged while onboard the ship. When I’m the captain and she is my cabin boy. A glance next to me verified her quiet presence. “You believe you can make the canyon?" She asked tonelessly. I could tell from her expression that she was as unworried as she sounded. I nodded. “We'll make it." “If we don't?" She queried. I glanced around, seeing no one was listening. “Well then, you'll be the only one I don't worry about." A quick smile twitched her lips. Gone as fast as it had touched. But there was a flicker in her dark brown eyes that I recognized as her dark humor. On this ship, emotions were something to be carefully guarded. Probably any pirate ship. I rationalized. But having my immortal daughter pretending to be a random cabin boy, enhanced that experience. Especially after what I went through as one. Though no one was going to do that to Molly. She’d rip them apart first. And I’d let her. “I'll get you to shore." She promised. I knew she would. Dealing with a crashed ship and ravaging waters would be no trouble for her. Even dragging me with her. “Thank you, sweetheart." I whispered so quietly that even I barely heard the words. She could've heard them across the ship. The ship had crossed past the first wall of the canyon and the stern was rapidly approaching the middle. I counted the feet we travelled, by the number of breaths I took. “Now." Molly ordered. I thought we should get further across before swinging her around or risk clipping the rock-face but Molly often saw things I couldn't. To her, inches of space could be gauged the same way I could, feet. She just sees things more decisively then I do. So when she said 'now’, I barely finished exhaling the breath I was on, before jerking the wheel. Catching the grips as fast as I could as the wheel rolled. “He's going to catch up to us, you know?” Molly said absentmindedly. As if making a statement of the obvious. I saw the ship veering through the water, splashing a giant wave as it was brought sideways against the current. For a heartbeat, we were too close to the nearest wall but the momentum of fighting the water created a large wave on that side of the Sea Snake. And when it slapped the wood side­boards, it gave the ship a mighty shove which aligned us perfectly with the center of the canyon. Just as Molly knew it would. I had no doubt that she'd accounted for that in her estimations. She was thorough in assessing all factors in a micro-second. Seeing the bigger picture in an instant. I'd always wondered if that was the same lens that Lucien saw the world through. If so, he gives no hints. Whereas with Molly it was obvious in everything she did. From the way she perfectly balanced on the ship deck, leaning against pillars with her arms crossed because she knew she couldn’t be tossed off her feet. Her reflexes were too quick. It was in the superior way she could assess a crowd and know if a fight was going to break out by the tensing of a man’s arm right before he threw a punch. She can see everything at once. It was rather amazing to watch. After a decade and some years of watching her grow, I was still impressed every day. “I hope you’re wrong." I finally responded to her. Now that I knew we were level with the canyon, I dared take a breath. “I’m not." “How can you-" “Because…he's here." She cut me off.

101 Cottage Jackson and I eventually rose and got dressed, then proceeded downstairs to get some warm oats and millet with a side of bacon. By the time we retrieved Sweetness from the stable and left the inn, I was pleasantly stuffed. Still cradling my belly as I food-waddled out into the trees with Jackson. Sweetness’s rein clutched in one hand as the other massaged my belly. “This is going to be a long walk." I groaned. He chuckled. “Stuffed to the gills, eh?" He pushed a few branches aside to lead us into an established animal trail. “More like to my hair." I gestured to the top of my forehead. “Glad to hear it. Need me to carry you?" “I'm full, not an invalid!" I stared at his back incredulously. “I offered." He shrugged. “You couldn't with all these trees anyway. You'd be toasting both our heads on every branch in here." I looked at the way the branches of each tree reached out to splay between those of its neighbor. Creating an interlocking pattern which made it so there was almost no clear spots. He abruptly rotated around to face me. “We could give it a try." He playfully held his hands out to me, as if I should leap into them and see if we crashed into one. I swatted his hands down, but he'd succeeded in making me giggle. “I don't think so!" “Get walking." I demanded, pointing. Though my lips still twitched with mirth. “Laughter looks good on you." He called over his shoulder as he turned around. I gave his back a light push. He reached back and caught my hand before I could completely retract it. Letting our joined hands dangle between us while we ducked those branches and stepped over forest debris. It was long hours of walking. Including in, and out of some mighty valleys. My legs were beginning to scream in objection. I'd have dearly loved to take a break and ride Sweetness but there was no room on this path for me to be on her back. I wouldn't have made it an hour before a mighty tree arm brushed me right off her. No. We'll just have to keep walking. I told myself. “I may yet have to take you up on that offer to carry me." I muttered to Jackson’s back. “Anytime you want." He said off-handedly. Shaking his head to indicate it meant no difference to him. I was tempted. “Though we don't have much further to go before this path opens up.” He remarked. Jackson knew the area well. He led me faster as the trees grew more sparse. When they finally did open, it was to reveal a sturdy cobbled path leading up to the most beautiful cottage I'd ever seen. The most beautiful one ever built. I mentally corrected. A perfect ray of light slashed through the sky and over a sparkling lake to halo the cottage in luminescing glow. The thatched rooftop was layered in sod. So green grass sprinkled with purple and yellow flowers could grow, up there. Lending it a sort of ethereal presence which I found mesmerizing. “It's gorgeous..." I breathed. “You built this?" I was already skipping onto the cobbled path, eager to see if the inside was as magical as the outside. “Yes." He nodded sagely. "For us." “I've never seen anything like it." “You imagined it." He countered. I froze, staring at him. It hit me as fast as the words left his mouth. I did dream it. *** I remembered a sunny day, one of the prettiest that spring. We were laying in the grassy field beyond the Eternus bailey. Staring at a sky painted as blue as the pond swishing a distance away. The grass was tall and caressed around us as it swayed in the slightest breeze. We’d snuck off to have a little time together. He was in a plain tunic with dark breeches and his high boots. As relaxed as he got. I recalled thinking. With a smile teasing my lips. I was in one of my lightest summer dresses. A filmy yellow thing with embroidered strawberries dotting the skirt. Jackson and I were sitting against a tree soaking up the warmth as we talked aimlessly. “Your mother will hate you being out this long.” He noted. “She'll fear your pretty skin will burn." He said in a gushing voice and touched the bottom of my chin the same way my mother often did. For just that reason. He was mocking how she babied me. I gave him a bleak scowl. He chuckled, caressing that rough hand against my chin as he took it away. Tearing off a weed to twirl between his fingers, over his stomach. “I don’t know why she even worries about it, I’m already so dark that my skin is likely ruined. “Only because you don’t have a complexion suited it to it.” He gestured down his body. “Not everyone can turn such a lovely blonde shade. “You’re a shit, you know that!” I grabbed a clump of grass and tossed it at him. He rolled sideways and shielded his face with an arm. Immediately rolling back to hug one of my legs and peer up at me. “Don’t be morose, that pretty ruby shade you turn in the sun is quite lovely too.” I compressed my lips and twisted them to the side to indicate my malcontent. He grinned facetiously. His wheat-colored hair blowing softly in the breeze around his forehead, making the square lines of his jaw stark. “You’re not worried about your mother’s concern?” He asked thoughtfully. “She won't know for a long while." He gave me a curious look. Sensing, I was up to some mischief. “And how would you know that?" “She thinks I'm embroidering. She leaves me locked in my room for hours to do that. Because whenever she opens the door, I complain endlessly about the persecution of young girls forced to blister their fingers on thread, until she promptly closes it.” “That always works?” “I’m so merciless, that she now avoids entering entirely until my time is up." I boasted. He chuckled. “So, what you’re saying is, you’ve snuck out?" “Soon as the lock clicks." “Just to be with me?” “Don’t flatter yourself.” I scoffed. “I came out here merely to enjoy the sunshine. You just followed me out like a lost lamb.” “Lamb!” He sputtered. Nearly choking with objecting laughter. “You came to the Training Yard and pulled me away, ordering me to follow you!” “That’s what I said…You followed me.” His eyes narrowed and he gave me an expression filled with mock indignation. Then he yanked my leg down, dragging me onto the ground next to him. He stayed sideways, putting on elbow under his head, to use it to prop his head up. Bracing it with that palm as he eyed me. “That poor woman. You could have some mercy on her." “Soon as she takes mercy on me." I grumbled. Fumbling with the ribbon over my waist. He laughed. “How would she do that?" “By never making me embroider again!" “You have a perfect world all mapped out, don't you?" “Actually, I do." I waggled my shoulders haughtily and peered at him over one. “Oh?" He was still twirling that weed between his fingers, but he perked up to hear this. “Mmhmm." I nodded seriously. “It'll be in the middle of this woodsy little, perpetually green Haven." I waved my hands before us as if revealing a glimpse into this sacred world of mine. “Perpetually green, huh?" He interjected with a smile. “Yep." I said decisively. Continuing to paint the picture for him. “It'll be captured in this perfect sword of sunlight. Cutting through the woods." I imitated a dramatic jab with an imaginary sword to show how that ray of light would slash down toward the cottage. “Sword of sunlight...Got it." His white teeth flashed and his blue eyes were dancing. “Yes." I bobbed my head. “With colored flowers on the roof. Purple mostly.” “Because that's my favorite color." I added. As if he didn’t already know that. “Of course." He tugged tiny yellow petals off the wildflower he’d just plucked. Trading it for the weed he’d shredded. “It'll be the most beautiful cottage in the whole world.” I proclaimed. “With a pretty stone path leading up to it that will simply beckon a guest to come in.” “That does sound pretty." “The prettiest!" I declared. Leaning sideways to brush his nose with mine while I grinned. *** “You built it." I murmured in awe. Realizing that the image I'd conjured in my naive mind, was now here before me. Brought to life. Stunning. “Built according to my understanding of your precise specifications." There was humor in his voice. As if remembering that moment in the meadow, still made him smile. “It's amazing." I felt tears flood into my eyes. I'd have never guessed that he remembered silly, girlish, things I'd said all those years ago. I felt a joyful tear trailing down my cheek. He brushed it away with his thumb before turning to walk with me along the cobbled path. Reaching the door first and opening it for me. I gasped as I stepped in. Realizing how beautiful and cozy it was. The wood trim along the door and throughout the house was engraved with a series of wildflowers. Perhaps everyone that was in the meadow that day. I wondered. Trying to recall them all. I fingered the edge of one board, running the length of the wall. Tracing each delicate flower. There was a small desk with parchment and ink in one corner of the cottage. On the other was a quaint little bed. There was a small table tucked against the back wall with two chairs. Those chairs held the same flower adornments on their legs and back. A pantry was tucked into the wall near that table. The result was a space that was small and neat, but seemed to have everything necessary to be comfortable to live in. Feeling a little breathless, I found him still standing in the doorway behind me. A gentle smile on his face as he let me explore the space. “You did all this for us?" “Well, as I’ve said before, I thought it would be a lovely foundation for us, hopefully, to grow on." I gave him a long study. “You did wonderful, Jackson." His face brightened at the compliment.

108 Conjured by My Faith I was willing Fury to come out of those trees. Strolling along in that unflappable way which he always did. Shoulders straight, head high, as invincible as always. I needed him to emerge. Please come out. Then, as if willed straight by my faith in him, Fury emerged from a series of small trees and shrouded bushes. With him was a badly battered woman, her arm strung behind his back for balance. She limped heavily to one side and appeared to be covered in bruises. Her long blonde hair was caked in dirt and blood leaving only blonde patches throughout. Bits of leaves and clumps of dirt were stuck to her. Behind them were yips of danger alert, amongst injured whines. Billows of smoke rose from whatever camp was that direction. Telling me that Fury had wreaked havoc on the camp. To save this woman. I was proud of him. It looked like she’d been through hell. My heart wrenched for her. Who would do this to another wolf? It looked like torture. Her eyes were haunted. So dark that they nearly looked hollow. I moved next to them. Going the direction they were. We were all still close to the camp he'd torn apart. Stopping here would be a terrible idea. The she-wolf was favoring her hurt leg so badly that progress was slow. And to keep from dragging her through the brambles, we’d have to circle wide to get back to camp. “Are there any following us?” I looked over her head at Fury. She twisted her head toward him too. Her expression was written with fear. “There weren’t any alive in the camp when I left.” I figured both the she-wolf and my expressions revealed identical astonishment. He demolished a whole camp? When I fell into step with them Fury shot the boys, then me, a sideways look. Disapproval etched into the furrows of his expression. I wasn't going to indulge his irritation with me right now. “Cloak?" I reached urgently toward Fury. He nodded and quickly peeled it off his shoulders to hand it to me. I enveloped the woman’s shoulders with it, tucking it closed around the front. Knowing the immense warmth of Fury’s body heat would help soothe her wounds in the process. As I walked close to her, I couldn’t help noticing that she appeared just a few years older than Bea and Chaos. Far too young to have gone through what she had. In my mind, anyway. But by wolf standards, she was an adult female. That was a harsh reminder for me, that Bea would only have a few more seasons before males would be drawn to her. Especially beneath the Mating Moon. That made me feel a little sick. I cringed. Even before that, Chaos would grow mature enough to be considered a threat to older males. Adult ones would have the urge to drive him off or slaughter him. But he still seems so young to me! I swallowed a lump in my throat, looking over at Fury. I had the sudden fear that when that happened, the wolf in Fury, might drive Chaos away as many of the adult males in the Enoke pack, would’ve done to their sons. I hope not. That new fear was raw in me as I tucked that young female under my arm. Pushing the cloak closed more tightly around her. “Come on, baby." I told her. Urging her alone with us. She was furtively looking over her shoulders. Certain she’d be caught and dragged back at any moment. Likely with grave punishments in store for the harm she’d caused. “We got you, you’re safe.” I assured her. *** Eventually, we learned the girl’s name was Lara. She was jumpy, easily startled, and a bit rough around the edges. We kept a careful eye on her as we readied for bed that evening. Assuring her that one of the males would remain awake to stand guard and that we’d all be sleeping in the same vicinity to keep her safe. As soon as Fury and I had laid down I asked him what had happened. “When I heard her screams, I went to see what was going on.” “You were worried about her." I said in understanding. “I was more worried about what you’d do if I didn’t.” I looked over my shoulder to eye him askance. “I was concerned about what was happening to her, but even more so about you running headlong into that camp to rescue her." I would’ve. I knew. I wouldn’t have been able to stand letting her suffer. Those screams would’ve driven me mad. I couldn't listen to them all night and done nothing. “I'd like to think I'd have been a bit more cautious than you give me credit for." “Think what you wish, sweetheart." He rose and walked over to gather more kindling for the fire. Clearly indicating that he disagreed. “You assume I'd be foolish about it?" I challenged, affronted. I sat up to glare at him. It was the early hours before morning. The children had all gone to bed and were fast asleep. Lara was still tucked in Fury's cloak. Rolled into a small ball a distance away. Wanting to be apart from all of us but close enough to be within the safety of our wayward pack. She muttered and shivered in her sleep. Clearly having nightmares. I was careful not to wake them, despite my outrage. I crossed my arms and awaited Fury’s response. “Was that what you were going to do when you came down with the boys? Have a look around?” No. I'd planned to back him up if he was in danger. My brow furrowed, and I felt as though he'd struck me for it. Like he was angry I went to him. “That was a NightHunter camp, Rebekah.” He said harshly. “They'd have had no qualms about doing the same to you as they had to her." He gestured to Lara. But I didn't fully understand what they had done to her. I had my suspicions, but I didn't know for sure. Fury watched my expressions passing over my face and decided to fill me in on the grotesque details to emphasize the severity of his point. “May made her their pack bitch. She was bound on the floor of the empty shack.” His voice dropped to barely above a whisper as he glanced toward Lara’s sleeping back. “She was theirs, to do whatever they wanted, to her." “Oh." I covered my mouth in horror. That picture of her, splayed for their pleasure on the dirt floor of a pitiful shack bound so she couldn’t change or defend herself, was horrific. That poor thing. No wonder she’s so scared. “That's sick." Fury nodded. Looking faintly upset, himself. “It was awful. I don't think you could've lived with that image in your head.” I gave him a broken look. Glancing back at the woman. I wanted to take her in my arms and tend all those wounds. “Poor thing." “Tomorrow, after she’s had some time to calm down, you should tend her. She's covered in injuries." I knew why he thought it should be me. She’d struggle with him touching her. She was already acting afraid of the boys, and none of them even wanted near her. I nodded. My jaw was tight. I couldn't imagine going through what she had. I wouldn't have been able to keep going. “I will.” I croaked weakly. Subsiding and laying back down. Though I didn’t like that Fury saw me as reckless and perhaps foolish, I understood that his irritation with me stemmed from his fear that I could’ve been hurt. He went to her because he knew I would’ve. *** As Fury and I had discussed, I tended Lara the next morning. But the whole time, her attention was on the young males. Watching each one with pure hatred on her face, despite that the boys barely paid her any mind other than an occasional glance now and then. Curious. They had questions, they didn’t mean any harm. She frequently reached out to slash them with clawed fingers. The boys hissed in pain as she sliced them. Catching a shin and the back of one calf when they wandered to close. “Hey." I snapped at her. “Stop that! They're not harming you! They're only pups." I wasn’t going to watch her sit there and try to injure every young male that unwittingly passed her. “They won't be next year." She said waspishly. “They’ll be monsters, just like the rest.” No. I thought with complete confidence. They won’t! They’re sweet boys. I recalled the way Chaos had tried to stop me from going to Fury alone. And then how Bryce had insisted he go with me so someone big enough to protect me would be there if things went wrong. “Those wolves you were with were monsters. These are good boys. Healthy young males, not looking to hurt you unless you keep hurting them.” But despite my bold words, I blanched at the reminder that these boys and even Bea were growing up. Too fast. I wouldn’t have much more time with them. Bea was careful to stay away from her, she didn’t like conflict, but Lara had fixed her with a horribly disdainful study. As though Bea deserved her contempt for having a rapport with the boys. She looks at Bea like she’s a bug creeping from her leaf bed. About the fourth time she swiped at one of them, Jace to be specific. I snarled at her. She ducked her head in deference. Retreating within herself. Crossing her arms over her stomach and avoiding my gaze. But she did stop swiping at them, though her obvious hatred lingered. She flinched every time one of them passed a bit too close. Fury was a distance away, skinning a deer to form Lara a crude hide dress. I threw him an annoyed look. But I could tell from the way he was observing her, that he'd seen the same thing I had. She’ll hurt one of them if we let her stay with us. He met my glance and slowly nodded his head, agreeing with my unspoken words. She can’t stay with us.

59 Humpty Dumpty I had so many questions whirring through my mind as I drove home. The images in those photographs were rolling over my mind’s eye as I pulled up to my house. I sighed, rubbing the steering wheel for a moment as I gathered myself. Setting all the drama of my day aside as I headed in to greet the most beautiful thing in my life. Let it go. I told myself. Let it go… “Mama.” She whipped her head as the door opened and her bright face lit up. Her keen blue eyes brightened at the sight of me. She walked over. I crouched and she put her arms around me. Giving me a tight squeeze. Her simple touch had me breathing a sigh of relief. Strain melted away for a little bit while I was with her. I embraced Emily. Held her. We played blocks together and she told me a bit in brisk tones about what she read today. As always, with perfect recall. I helped her wash, talking with her as she bathed. Then I assisted her in toweling off. We went to her room, and I read to her until it was time for her to sleep. Stroking her hair with my other hand. I could hear Regina moving around downstairs. She’d asked if she could take a shower when we’d finished. Regina's House was being renovated. She'd hoped it would be finished by the time I returned from the conference, but it wasn’t. I'd insisted she stay with us. She was currently sleeping on my couch. She’d told me since she was there, to go out anytime I wished. Her way of showing her appreciation. The gesture was sweet. But after Emily was tucked in, and settled down to sleep, after I’d gone and readied myself for bed that, that knowledge had me flopping around in my sheets. Turning side to side, until I could no longer stand the ugly writhing anguish of it. I slid to my feet, settling into the depths of my irritation. I stared at the wall, my jaw setting in determination. I can’t do this… *** Less than an hour later, I found myself rain soaked, in soggy gray pajamas, my hair twisted over my shoulders, with my emotions as much of a disaster as my appearance. I was staring at the door of Eric's apartment. Wondering if I should just forget and go home. I should. I knew it. But I was driven by something dark and unholy. I drew a steadying breath, lifted my fist, and rapped before I could lose my spine. And every word I’d planned out with it. The rain had begun when I left the house and, as if mimicking my emotions, it progressively got darker and more turbulent. Pouring harder. I lifted my hand to knock again, but the door was tossed open. A dark-eyed Eric looked none-too-pleased with my presence. He was wearing a pair of ripped, worn jeans that rode low on his hips, with tears along his masculine thighs. The bright shade was a stark contrast to the darkly tanned skin of his torso and arms. He caught sight of me. His brows lowering. “What are you doing here?" “I came to ask what the hell these are.” I pulled the stack of photos from inside my coat and splayed them in my hand like playing cards between my fingers. “Photographs." He shrugged. “Half of them are of me." “Yeah." He gave me a cold look. “And half were not." “Why did you take so many of me?" “The light was right.” He said dully. “On all these different days?" I shook them to emphasize my point. Sure, that there was more than what he was saying. “What exactly do you think they're about, Allison?" He cocked a hip and shoulder against the doorframe. Crossing his arms over his chest. Challenging me to make the accusation I was driving toward. “I think you were paying an awful lot of attention to what I was doing." “It was your first year. I was trying to help you. If it bothers you so much I won't, next time." “Don't you do that!" I pointed a stern finger. “You're trying to change the subject from these photos." “There is no subject, they're photographs.” He gestured boredly. “Don't try to make it more than that." I studied his face, and I was suddenly very sure. He’s lying. “Don't act like I'm being crazy." I wanted to throw the pictures at him. “You feel something for me. Which makes no sense, since ninety percent of the time, you're a raging ass to me!" His gaze turned scathing. Scorching into me with those burning eyes, the same shade as the hottest part of a flame. His mouth tightened and he lurched off the wall. “All you are to me, is my assistant at work, and a lovely fuck on occasion. Nothing more than that." His tone was pure acid. Dripping from his tongue to sear into the deepest parts of me. Sizzling hotly and making me burn with shame for even coming here. “A lovely fuck?" My voice cracked. I was nodding in self-derision. “That so?” He's jaw jerked slightly as I quoted the words back to him. “Is that what I am?" I wanted him to say that to me one more time. Because it’ll make it that much easier to hate him. My lips tightened and I tasted blood from biting my cheek. His arms dropped to his sides and his fists worked in a white-knuckled grip. “I see. My mistake then." I dropped the photographs on the floor. Leaving them to be crushed underfoot. And all that beauty to be destroyed. “There for a moment, I thought you were a flesh and blood man. Now I know you're just a polished piece of shit!" I felt a teary lump forming in my throat. I stomped on the pictures, twisting my foot over them as I rounded to stalk my way to the elevator. Hoping that the art and heart he’d put into them would be as damaged as he’d just made me feel. I stepped inside the metal box and faced the doors, waiting for them to close before I lost it. My heart was slowly breaking in two. Like I could feel every fracture and the sticky strands as it pulled apart. Every moment of that agony was ripe in me. I was staring at the floor but caught bare feet in my peripheral. When I looked up, I saw Eric standing there. His fists were clenched at his side. There was a cruel look on his face as he stared hatefully at me. His lips parted as though he’d say something. But whatever it was, he never got it out before the elevator was closing. His gaze not even flickering as the doors closed, shielding me from his view. *** Those doors had closed before Eric had a chance to stop her and fix what he'd just done. He was beyond frustrated with what he’d said. Though he’d planned it all day, it still had not come out right when he tried. It was so much worse. Beyond cruel. “Ah!" He raged. Hitting the wall as those doors separated them before he could come up with an appropriate thing to say to stop her from leaving, so he could try to explain himself to her. Instead, he'd let her leave like that. Unshed tears in her eyes, as she fled him. Again. Making something deep inside him shatter like a broken mirror. But every refracting shard carried that last image of her tormented face. “What have I done?" He whispered to himself. Staring at the spot where she'd been, until those doors had stolen her away. Eric walked back to his room. Bending to collect the abused photographs off the floor. He remembered taking every one of them with vivid clarity. Ever since she'd left to get the photos earlier today, he'd been rehearsing to himself what he'd say. He was ashamed of how obvious the sheer number of images he'd taken of her, was. He stood over them swallowing the rock forming in his throat. But when it came down to it, he couldn't leave those on the floor in the hall. Those pictures of Allie in the sunshine, Allie beaming in triumph as she made her first big sale. The sparkle in her vibrant eyes, which she’d been devotedly hiding since they were reunited. She was painfully, heart-wrenchingly gorgeous in the kind of way that can be blinding if one peered at it too long. There were layers to Allison's beauty. The simple outward ones were the easiest to see. Then the way she looked when she was truly happy, like when she made that sale to Frederick. And when she was thinking about something that excited her. Which was reflected in that picture of her going over the files of the sales she’d made. Each picture had captured a different one of those layers. He leaned to swipe them up. Going into his apartment with them shaking in his hands. He put his back to the closed door. He slid down it. His expression was racked with a level of pain that he couldn't ever let her know she caused in him. It'd be too much for him to bear. He pushed his hand through his hair, clenching handfuls of it between his fingers. His restless anger poured through him in violent waves. Barely leashed in their brutality. He couldn’t let himself forget that the last time he gave her that much power, she'd crushed his heart in her little hands. Her fingers tightening around it like claws, shredding him into so many pieces that he was never able to put them back together again. That was what he’d given her the power to do. And she hadn’t hesitated when she grew tired of him. Leaving him broken like that. Like Humpty Dumpty. That was how he’d seen himself since she’d destroyed him. Humpty Dumpty…It was his own sick joke. He'd promised himself that he'd never love anyone like that again. Especially not her. He'd cultivated in himself a raw hatred toward her. But the moment he'd driven past his potential job and saw that raggedy, unmistakable Nova in the parking lot, he'd known he'd take that job at Clark & Walker.