The dark philosophers li.., p.20
A Prime's Passion, page 20
Chapter Twenty-Five
Meridia hadn’t gone straight to Niko.
Uneasy, Zee eyed her friend and wondered what kind of mischief she had in mind. Meridia was many things—predictable was not one of them. She didn’t make it a habit to flout long-held rules of acceptable behavior, but this was a complicated situation—Meri was here not as the Regnar, but as a friend to a woman grieving, which she’d made clear by approaching Zee first.
If she’d been a Therian, she’d never be able to casually shrug off Niko’s presence until she felt like talking to him, despite her connection to the deceased’s family.
But... she wasn’t.
Meri would twist every little exception possible out of those caveats to accepted behavior.
Nearly a half-hour had passed and next to nobody had approached Zee since Meri walked away. It was like they all waited on edge, to see what happened between the two strongest Preterns, both of them acutely aware of the other, yet neither of them apparently ready to close the distance for the inevitable faceoff.
That wasn’t the only reason Zee was uncomfortable.
Those vague whispers of unease had increased, dancing along her spine until her skin literally crawled.
There was a fine line between Shale’s brows when she glanced at him. She wondered if he’d sensed it as well. And that thought reminded her of what Niko had said about the big man with the odd green eyes—lush forests and the gentle softness of a dawning spring.
“You feel it, too.”
He slanted a narrow look at her but it was so quick, nobody would have noticed, unless they’d really, really been looking.
“Perhaps,” he said slowly, his gaze returning to the crowd, the vigilant bodyguard on task. “I imagine you’d like a walk, Ms. Day. Get a breath of air, away from the crowd.”
“Thank God.” She took the arm he offered, so desperate to get away from the crawling power in the air, she could have kissed him.
She might have done so, too, just to tweak Niko’s nose. But even above all that simmering energy, she could feel Niko’s tension.
He can’t help being possessive. We’re Therian. It’s in our genes, in our bones.
Since she wanted to snap the head off any woman who went too close or dared touch him, she decided she’d behave herself.
“You’re certain you don’t mind missing the show?” Shale asked, mischief coloring his voice as they made their way to the outer edge of the crowd, then the clearing.
Eyes already adjusted to the dark as they stepped into the heavy growth of trees, Zee gave him a narrow look. “You know, I’m just starting to think I might like you. But if you go down that road... ”
“Forget I said anything.” He mimed turning a key at his mouth, then threw it over his shoulder. As he did so, he shifted those heavily muscled slabs, a restless movement that spoke to the edginess within Zee.
“What are you?” she asked, not even thinking of how rude it sounded until the question was already hanging between them. Color flooded her face and she snapped her jaw shut, mortified. “I’m sorry. That was a terrible thing to ask. I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright.” With his free hand, he patted hers, then pressed down, holding her in place when she would have pulled back. “You’ve spent most of your life feeling cut adrift, I’d wager, not certain exactly who you are. Even before you found out about your Fae ancestry, you never quite fit in with your pack, did you?”
“If you knew anything about the pack I was raised in, you’d know it was a good thing, not fitting in.”
“Oh, I know about the monsters who made up Greylock before the former Prime cleaned house, Zee,” he said, his voice hardly more than a growl. “I hope it doesn’t bother you to hear this, but I was one of the soldiers he took with him that first trip up there. I watched as the old alpha was dispatched. My first kill happened there, one of the soldiers who tried to go at Niko’s back while he stood as his father’s second during the fight between him and the Greylock Alpha—not that you could really call it a fight. It was a fucking slaughter, over in less than two minutes.”
She hadn’t heard much about what had happened when Jameson Whelan went to Greylock, although she had heard it had been brutal—and final.
“No,” she said in a tight voice. “It doesn’t bother me. Hearing he died? It’s quite satisfactory.”
“Royal Graves died on his knees, his guts spilled out and pleading for mercy. There’s a bit more satisfaction for you. Niko dispatched all four lieutenants as his father watched.”
A spiky, ugly steel cage, one that had encased her heart for so long she’d all but forgotten it, cracked open the smallest fraction.
“Do you want to know more about that night?”
There had never been a time when she’d thought she’d want to hear something about Greylock, but now? “Yes. Tell me everything.”
“Well, this will be a tale, my lady.” He took a step in front, using his greater height and bulk to hold back a heavy growth of thorny vines that had been partially blocking the path, never flinching although they stabbed into the flesh along his arm and back.
She hurried through with a murmured thank you, which he ignored.
“None of us had any idea that sorry fucker had gone and built himself a near fortress,” Shale said, falling back in step next to her. “Some packs still prefer near isolation, but as long as they stay in routine contact, the Prime typically let them be until Greylock. Things... changed after that. He realized the damage that could be done. But that’s a different discussion. Thirteen of us went, Jameson, then Niko and Garvey, each of them in charge of a unit, with five soldiers apiece. Niko was still training, hadn’t yet taken his place as his father’s second in command. That title lay with Hattie Brighton and she stayed back with the pack in Durham-Starfell, running things while Jameson was gone. Hattie was pissed because she hadn’t been able to talk Jameson into taking his bodyguards with him.”
Shale went silent for a long moment and they both came to a stop.
Around them, the night was quiet, save for its natural rhythm of birds calling to one another. Even the muted voices of the gathering back in the Hollow had faded to a bare murmur thanks to the distance and the natural sound barrier provided by the trees.
“Jim was one of the ones we lost when Jameson died,” Shale said quietly. “He’d been friends with my father, like an uncle to me. He was the one who suggested my mother and I join Appalachia when we decided to leave Ireland.”
Hurting for the man’s quiet grief, she brushed her hand down his arm. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” He covered her hand with his, gave it a quick, companionable squeeze. In an unexpected—and sweet—gesture, he laced their fingers. There was nothing romantic about the gesture. It was more akin to a much older brother showing affection for a younger sister. “Come. Let’s continue our walk. Something in the night has me on edge.”
She felt it too, but she couldn’t explain it.
“By the time Niko dispatched the lieutenants, not many of those left were strong enough to put resistance, although there were still some cruel fucks there, which is why Jameson drafted Phoenix in as the temporary alpha. To be honest, I think your father wanted the job, but... ” He hesitated as he looked at her. “Your father is—was—too much the master games-player to ever be a successful alpha. If he’d wanted it that badly, he should have challenged Graves and been done with it, but he had to play his games. It’s hard to win a pack’s trust that way, especially a pack as broken as the surviving Wolves of Greylock. Samuel Day might have always had the survival of the pack as his primary goal, but their health... well, that was a different matter altogether. As it stands, it’s taken Phoenix nearly a decade to bring things around.”
Hearing her oldest brother’s name hurt. She’s always adored him—had adored all of her brothers.
But Phoenix had been one of the ones behind her being sent to Durham-Starfell. He was nowhere near the manipulator her father had been, but Phoenix could and would work things to his advantage if he thought it would net him the best outcome.
Whether he’d expected things to turn out as they had between her and Niko that first time around, she’d never know.
So much time had passed and none of them had ever been far from her mind.
Now, she found herself thinking of Phoenix, Etan and Saint even more.
Seeing Liam—the contact, hugging him and laughing with him in the few brief hours they’d had—had done so much to heal her heart.
Shale squeezed her hand gently.
Looking up, she saw him watching her with understanding eyes.
“It takes strength, a special courage of the heart and soul to forgive, more than most people can truly comprehend. You’ve got that inside, Zee. I think—”
He went silent even as she tensed, both of them sensing that eerie wrongness in the air come to a blinding crescendo.
A wind had been caressing the leaves and her hair, sending tendrils to dance across her cheeks but in that instant, even the very wind hushed. Time slowed to a snail’s pace as her hearing sharpened in ways she hadn’t even known was possible.
The high-pitched whistle she heard coming from behind her—her brain processed and cataloged it before she even understood she was hearing it.
Shale lunged for her, taking her to the ground before her mind had put a name to the sound.
And blood... there was already blood in the air even as the rational part of her brain kept pace with time.
Not even one full second had passed since she’d tracked the shift in the air, and yet... everything had changed.
The metallic taste of Shale’s blood was in her mouth and she knew he’d taken a bullet meant for her. Instincts screaming, she shoved and twisted, the strength hidden within her small frame making it easier than most would believe for her to flip his far heavier body off hers. That done, she crouched low and dragged him out of the painfully exposed clearing so a huge forest giant protected them. Instinct told her where to go, but it was an instinct she’d never heard before—it wasn’t the wolf. The wolf was on alert, prowling and ready to attack, its senses overwhelmed with the scent of a fellow wolf’s blood.
The wolf whispered for her to run, to hunt, to kill.
But another instinct murmured to her, too, and the music of that murmur was compelling. It was like the very earth spoke to her and told her where the safest place was, even as it told her where the threat was.
Crouching over Shale to keep a low profile, she stared at the gaping wound in his chest, so massive she could have put her fist inside it. Somehow, he was still breathing, but that wouldn’t last. Therians and Fae could take awful wounds, but this... ?
He’ll die if he doesn’t get healing soon. Her wolf howled inside her, mourning this man who could so easily become a friend.
There’s still danger, that eerie otherness inside her warned. She started to push up so she could peer around the tree and froze, that instinct demanding she pull back.
On your belly, go farther back... there. Stop there. Be still. Now... listen.
Not even questioning that voice deep coming from, she did as instructed and listened.
The barest shift of air currents sliding to her, rustles that were a fraction too loud to be coming from the leaves.
Call for help.
She froze at the idea, balking on every level. Whoever watched, whoever crept closer would hear—
Don’t use your voice, that instinct urged. Use the earth.
The earth.
Understanding started to dawn on her. Earlier, she’d wanted the earth to crack open and swallow her whole, but that had been to save her from humiliation. The burnt iron scent of Shale’s still bleeding wound wafted up to her and she knew her Fae-given earth magic had finally broken free.
Now it whispered to her so she could save her own skin... and hopefully that of the wolf who’d reacted just in time to put his body between her and the bullet that had torn through the night, targeting her.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she said soundlessly into the night.
But she followed those instincts. Clamping one hand around one of the roots of forest giant sheltering them both, she reached—for the earth, which she could feel now, all around her, the way the ocean cradled her when she went for a swim, the way Meridia’s people surrounded her when she traveled around the cape, even she couldn’t see them.
She felt the cry connect—it slammed into the earth and spread, reaching out, out, and out...
She sucked in a breath when there was a response, something that traveled back through the earth only heartbeats after she’d first reached out.
We’re coming, little sister.
That voice—
It was softly feminine, and strangely familiar.
Somehow, she knew it was Leana.
Again, those newly awakened instincts woke her. Touching her hair to Shale’s cheek, she made him a silent promise, demanded one from him in return.
Stay alive, she thought, then started to climb the tree, finding footholds that would be too small for many. She let her claws out and made do, powering up through sheer determination and strength.
In the lower branches, concealed by the foliage, she waited.
Something was coming.
She held her breath. It wasn’t Leana.
A figure prowled into sight, dark and stealthy, moving in the shadows of the trees, using them to hide himself. She wouldn’t have seen him, even with her excellent night sight, because the shadows had deepened to near black, a black her gut told her wasn’t natural. But her wolf’s sharp sense of smell alerted her and for once, the two parts of her nature came together, working in unity.
Enemy, they whispered.
Zee came down, shifting halfway through and using her wolf’s teeth to catch the man’s throat between her jaws, growling.
He lay face down in the earth, frozen.
Her eyes caught the glint of something silvery and a mix of satisfaction and frustration went through her—a knife. She could use a knife. Phoenix and Saint had worked with her until she knew how, and once she’d settled in Provincetown, Donner had started working with her, too, improving those skills, finally bringing in Meridia once it was obvious she needed somebody whose body type was more similar to hers.
But she couldn’t use a knife in wolf form.
Shifting back so quickly might tire her. She didn’t know for sure. Normally, it would but the adrenaline pumping through her might stave that off. She couldn’t demand answers in this form either.
Decision made, she shifted and grabbed the knife the man had dropped, plunging it into his upper back just below his shoulder, driving it into the earth so he was pinned.
He howled, a sound of pain and rage that made the predator in her sing with savage pleasure.
“It looks like we’re not needed,” a soft voice said.
She tensed, having not even sensed the male’s arrival. A split second later, her subconscious having already cataloged who it was, she peered at the approaching male from the corner of her eye.
Something within her sang in happiness, even as part of her tensed, ready for rejection.
“Saint. I didn’t know you would be here.”
Her brother draped something over her shoulders before replying. The scent of family, of home, spoke to the ache deep inside. “I’ve never been one to miss a party, sister. If you want to cover up, I can handle this mess.”
She grimaced, the most primitive part of her not wanting to give up what the wolf saw as her prey, but she forced herself upright with a nod.
Another movement had her turning.
The dark-haired male who emerged from the shadows held her gaze for a long, intense moment.
“Etan.”
Her other brother offered a hesitant smile, too many unspoken things hanging between them. After a moment, he gave her a terse nod before lifting his head to the air, scenting the wind. “Shale. He’s injured. Badly.”
“Yes.” She hurried to the place she’d dragged his body, ignoring the little pains that were starting to make themselves known. “There’s another one out there. But I think he’s already out of reach.”
Etan and Saint both slid her assessing looks even as Etan moved to her side, already taking in Shale’s injured body.
“How do you know?” It was Saint who spoke. “I scent nothing.”
But she had no way to explain it.
While she was still struggling to answer, a faint sound caught her attention. She wasn’t the only one who turned its direction, either. Both of her brothers did, Etan taking note before either she or Saint—his hearing had always been the most acute of all of them.
“It’s coming from the Hollow,” Saint said. “Somebody else must have felt that... message from you. We sure as hell did.”
“Message... ” She stopped shaking her head as she rose to her full height, her gut telling her it was safe. Saint had one knee drilled into the back of the man she’d taken down and the other one was in the wind.
There was no time left to talk anyway.
A ripple along her spine was the only warning she had before a tall form tore through the trees to spill into the small clearing where she and Shale had stopped to talk.
Golden eyes raked over her from a height of at least seven feet, teeth glinting as his lips peeled back to release a horrifying sound that could never be described as anything so simple as a growl.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Niko’s hybrid form looked like no other wolf in existence. as far as Zee knew and it was likely because of Galina, his mother, a Therian cat who had shifted into an oversized Eurasian Lynx, save for the coloring.
According to rumor, Galina had appeared to be nearly all black.
