Текст книги "Alphas burden"

Автор книги: Luna lark

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

7CADEN

The sight of another male touching Avery drives my wolf wild. Lorne’s boasting of taking her for himself because I don’t want her breaks the fragile restraint I managed to gain to refuse this bond.

My vision goes red.

I act without thinking. One minute I’m putting some needed distance between us, the next I’m wrenching Lorne away from her.

He grunts, struggling with me. My muscles bulge with the power of my wolf. He’s pressed close, moments from taking my skin.

Threat. That’s what’s driven me to the breaking point. I sense that this male is a threat. He’s trying to take from me.

Bloodlust pumps through my veins. It’s not enough to get Lorne off her. The things he said loop through my mind and my fangs descend so fast they cut my lip. He fucking laughs.

“What are you losing control over?” he taunts. “Over that pathetic Wolfless who’s nothing more than a cunt to use? The one you refused?”

I want to rip his tongue out and chew it up.

Then the sinews of his vocal chords.

I want his blood soaking the lawn for days so everyone knows not to go near her.

My body isn’t my own. Reason has left me, along with my carefully maintained control.

Lorne’s arrogant grin, his suggestion to use Avery, his hands all over her—I growl fiercely, my wolf making himself known. His shoulder pops from its socket when I twist his arm behind his back. He grits his teeth, aiming an elbow at my gut. I crush his arm in my powerful grip and the bones snap beneath the full strength I put into it.

He screams in fury, shoving at me. “You attack your packmate—your own blood? Over her? She’s not one of us. Probably lying about being your fated, too. Your father should’ve killed every Morgan left after he won that challenge. Wipe out the whole rotten bloodline.”

“Shut up,” I snarl, my voice all wolf.

I lose him for a second when he breaks away, then I’m back on him immediately, harshly grabbing him by the injured part above his elbow to keep his accelerated healing from knitting the broken bones together. I’m not finished yet.

It’s not enough. I could tear his damn arm off and burn it in front of her, and it would never be enough to erase his touch on what’s mine.

My attention moves to Avery. She’s breathing heavily, arms wrapped around herself. Her focus is locked on me. Tears fill her eyes, but there’s an intent gleam to them when I drive my fist into Lorne’s gut.

She likes this. My chest puffs out and fur sprouts down my arms. The material of my shirt strains over my body as it expands to contain the beast within. It tears at the seams, hanging from me in scraps of fabric when I punch him again and again until he doubles over.

Yes. See how strong we are? How we protect you?

I shake my head, ripping my gaze from her. Gripping Lorne’s throat and a fistful of his shirt, I take him to the ground, pinning him on his back.

He’s not laughing now, staring up at me with outrage. With challenge. Still meeting my fucking eyes when he should be submitting to his alpha.

Lips peeled back, I squeeze his throat, watching his face turn purple. He jerks, holding my gaze with open defiance. My fingers curl tighter, feeling his rapid pulse hammering.

“Submit,” I roar in his face.

A choked-off wail from the nearby crowd filters through the red haze consuming me. Sylvie, Lorne’s mother. I spare her a glance, finding my uncle’s fist clamped on her nape to keep her quiet.

“Don’t interfere. You’ll make him look weak,” Cormac corrects angrily.

My uncle was never much of a problem when my father was alpha, but once his older brother passed, Cormac has never missed an opportunity to make it known what he thinks of my choices in leading the pack. Everyone measures me against Dempsey Blackburn’s great reign, but he actively works to see his sons undermine me without any of them facing me in a challenge.

I fight with my wolf for control. I never let myself break like this. Cormac’s going to use this against me. He’ll probably whisper with the elders who waver between begrudging me their respect and griping about how things were in their day. I’m losing ground.

My wolf isn’t listening. His hackles are raised, growling nonstop. He won’t be satisfied, not by submission alone.

I’m on the verge of doing much worse to Lorne than breaking his arm and choking him out. My wolf wants to tear him limb from limb, death the only acceptable outcome to the challenge.

“That’s enough,” I seethe. “It’s over. I have you pinned. Drop your fucking eyes and submit.”

Lorne’s eye twitches. Movement in the grass drags my focus from him.

Sweet notes of honey wash over me. Warm sunshine breaking through after a summer rain. I whip my head in Avery’s direction.

She’s edging closer. I lose what little thread of my control I’ve regained all over again with her near.

This is why I know fate is wrong. Look how quickly I almost destroyed the fragile balance of order I maintain over the pack because of her.

Pain flares in my sternum, jarring me with a sharp lance before fading. My wolf fights me for our skin, scratching at my restraint. He barrels against the barrier keeping him at bay. If she comes over to me, if she touches me again, I know he’ll break through.

I snarl at her, battling between reason and my crazed wolf wanting the taste of Lorne’s blood on my tongue when I rip his throat out. Everything I’ve worked to build in this pack is seconds from slipping through my fingers if I give in to what the beast within me wants, no, demands—to tear my packmate to shreds for daring to go near his mate.

The very mate I just rejected because this bond is wrong. She can’t be mine. Fate is fucked up for thinking she’s my destined match.

Avery is a Morgan. My enemy. I’ll never trust her.

“Go!” I shout. “Get the hell away from here!”

She flinches, stumbling back another step with hunched shoulders. I grit my teeth, ceasing Lorne’s struggle against my grip pinning him to the ground. My claws dig into his jugular, ready to pierce his skin and soak the ground with his blood.

“Now, Avery!” I order fiercely.

The powerful Alpha command infused in my words booms through the clearing, bringing anyone left standing to their knees in submission. Everyone except Avery.

She remains defiant on her feet, somehow unaffected by the strength of my dominant rule.

Impossible. No one should be able to ignore an order of a pack alpha with that much force behind the shifter magic.

A rumbling growl vibrates in my chest. My wolf is pleased with her. Proud.

8AVERY

My ears pop and my gut twists when Caden issues his order for me to leave, but it doesn’t feel the way it should. Not even the way the Alpha’s command tried to influence me earlier when we crossed paths.

It’s painful, but it’s more from him doubling down on rejecting me as his mate. There’s no spark running through my soul to demand my loyalty to his word.

A few packmates’ whimpers and distressed whining reaches me through the blood rushing in my ears. Some have pissed themselves, faces pressed into the dirt, quivering in fear. Focusing on them becomes difficult, my attention returning inward to the storm battering my psyche.

Maybe this mangled bond that’s burning a hole through the space in my chest where my heart should be has some way of sparing me from an alpha’s power. I don’t have time to examine it, fighting the cascading rush of everything crashing over me.

When he attacked Lorne for being near me, touching me, I thought—the bond made me believe he was changing his mind. Why else would my fated mate go so wild defending me if he didn’t want me?

Well, I don’t want him either.

I hate him.

It hurts to hate him.

I close my eyes in frustration. My soul feels like it’s splitting in two. This is too much. All of it. Panic rises, threatening to suffocate me.

Should it hurt this badly?

I gasp for air, tripping backwards through small divots in the grass. Putting more and more distance between myself and Caden. Away from my mate.

Every wobbling step is agonizing. I’m pretty sure I’ve twisted an ankle, or worse, I fear when a sickening crack jolts me, fire shooting up my leg.

I cry out, nearly losing my balance. Tears stream freely down my face. Every heaving breath I draw burns my lungs and throat.

Goddess help me, I need to get out of here now or I might very well die. For my sisters’ sake, I won’t let that happen.

It’s insane that a delusional part of me still wants to go back to his side. As if he’ll somehow decide it was a mistake, take back the harshest words a shifter fears hearing, and engulf me in his strong embrace again. My aching heart breaks all over again because that will never happen.

Caden Blackburn rejected me.

He doesn’t want a mate like me. A broken shifter who can’t shift. The daughter of the man who turned on his father.

Enemies don’t belong together.

I swallow, picking up the pace of my retreat. No matter how much I’m ready to turn and run until my legs fail me, something still tries to stop me from leaving as I stagger as fast as possible. I swing my wild gaze between the tree line and the scene behind me.

No one’s on their feet yet, awaiting permission. Lorne is still pinned to the ground, Caden’s hand around his throat.

I can’t decide which slices me to the bone more—knowing I’ll never have another chance at happiness again because the mate the moon goddess wrote in the stars cast me aside, or facing Caden’s scowl as he tracks me across the clearing.

He already broke my heart once. The carefully hardened pieces I spent years mending with my own resolve to survive have shattered to thousands of shards, wrecked beyond any hope of repair.

I refuse to let him break my heart a second time.

Go. The venom in his tone echoes in my head.

My teeth chatter and needles prick my skin, spreading tiny fires down my arms. Something unfamiliar fights its way out of me. A growl rends the night air. It takes me a second to realize it came from me, my vocal chords still vibrating strangely with another wounded call.

Something’s happening to my vision. It sharpens, focusing on details at a much greater distance than I should be able to make out, leaving me disoriented. My gaze locks with Caden’s once more. His blue eyes flash gold, his wolf shining through, softening the force of his ire.

Get out of here. Go. We need to go. To run. Let’s run.

I freeze in a patch of moonlight spilling through the trees, gasping for an entirely different reason than being a jilted mate. This voice—it’s different. It’s not Caden’s, nor mine.

Then I sense her. A blurred figure emerges within my mind’s eye in an unhurried four-legged trot. A wolf.

This has to be a hallucination. The rejected bond has to be triggering this. My chest heaves as I wait for the mirage to clear. But—no. She’s really there, truly part of me.

I can’t believe it. I actually have a wolf?

This means I’m not Wolfless. But why couldn’t I sense her within me before?

My throat tightens, picturing the horrible sight of Dad when he died. Maybe the emotional stress kept her locked inside me, blocked from emerging.

All this time I’ve believed I was broken as much as my packmates did, but I feel her now.

With a hitched breath, I take in the deep red fur sprouting on my arms, my nails darkening as they lengthen into sharp points, the seams of my clothing tearing as my human form becomes something I’ve never experienced before.

Something I never believed I would ever experience.

I’m not dying from Caden’s rejection…I’m shifting for the first time.

Yes. Shift, my wolf urges with an insistent yip, pawing at our mental connection. Need to run. Time to run, race, leap.

For a beat, I’m frozen. I’m mid-shift without any idea of how I’ve accomplished it while my emotions were overloading. With the awareness of my new ability, the discomfort hits me in full force, knocking the wind from me with a fresh wave of tears.

I don’t know what to do. I’m stuck.

She pads in a circle, then I feel a strange invisible nudge that inspires my instincts. I stop fighting and let go of logical thought, focusing on the pull of the moon.

My lips part in awe as I go through the rest of the transformation.

It hurts like hell, but my nerve endings are so battered that the discomfort becomes a dull throbbing that’s easily ignored once it’s over. My perspective changes as I rise on four shaky legs.

Everything hits my senses at once with more intensity—so much to smell and hear and see. A whole new view of the world to explore.

It all blurs together, the scents of the earth and grass beneath my large paws, the bitterness of the smoke coiling from the bonfire and the warmth of the burning logs, the savory roasting meat that makes my mouth water. Packmates, so many pack scents it’s difficult to pick them apart until I hone in on the one I’ve always been able to recognize.

I shy away from the inviting notes of smoky forest, fresh springs, and the overpowering sharpness of smoldering cedar that’s so strong it makes me sneeze. The tail takes me by surprise when a tickle at the base of my spine results in it swishing.

My attention catches on Caden one last time. His hard expression is unreadable. The bond gives a feeble pulse in my chest, pulling a soft whine from me.

Mate, my wolf senses.

I toss my head in refusal. Again, the tattered bond tries to connect with him. No. He hurt us.

I never believed this moment would come, peering at him through my wolf’s gaze. He holds it until I lift my head and let loose a somber howl to the moon.

Every shifter I know has some sense of their connection to their wolf before their first shift. The fact I’m meeting mine at last thanks to him causing us this heart-wrenching sadness sours my first time with her.

Turning my back on the clearing, I leap over a downed log and run into the trees. My control slips away, the wolf taking over for me. My steps lose their uncertainty, becoming a confident stride.

As much as I want to shut everything out to enjoy my first run with her, I’m still aware of every inch of growing distance between me and the male I don’t want to think about anymore.

A distant howl sounds from the commons once I’m further away.

He might have ruined what fate wanted to gift us, but he’s not overshadowing this.

The woods smell richer. Alive and thriving, teeming with so much I take for granted every day. The soft dirt gives way to my bounding paws. Bushes caress my flank when I wriggle between them. I splash through a pond, pausing when I feel the scales of a fish glide past me. My ears prick and I still, caught in a long stare into the water.

I snap my teeth, but the fish escapes the clutches of my jaw. A lively bark escapes me, sending a vibration of energy through my body. I shake it off and jump out of the water, moving to the edge of the pond.

The reflection of my wolf is beautiful. She’s a sight to behold in her roan coat and large clever gold irises. She’s so much bigger than I ever expected or hoped for. No one will cross a wolf this size and hope to get away unscathed.

The prospect of fighting something excites her. I trot away from the pond, picking up speed into a loping run. This is amazing. I’m flying through the trees, covering so much ground in a short period of time.

Every sensation is a new revelation. I love this. It brings a renewed appreciation for the mountain to experience its beauty like this.

The thunder of others makes me hover between the trunks of two large trees. The pack is running together. The urge to join them tugs at me. I lick my lips with a whine.

My wolf wants to be with them, as she should because they’re pack, they’re hers. I stop her from following them. No, it’s safer here. We’re better off on our own.

I lower my nose to the ground, snuffling through dead leaves and underbrush to follow a tangy trail that snags my attention. I lick up a crunchy bug on the way and pause to paw at a worm before continuing. The trail leads to a scat pile.

Internally, I grimace while my wolf does her thing. When I listened to people talk of hunting, the details of the mechanics didn’t occur to me.

Circling the area, the same sharp tang wafts through the trees in another direction. I pause, ears swiveling to take in the rustle of branches in the wind, the trickle of a nearby stream, and—there. Prey dashing through the woods.

I crouch low and stalk. When I cross an old fallen tree from the high vantage point to lower ground, I smell a rabbit. It’s digging nearby. Though I’m careful to approach, it freezes, thumping the ground with its back foot to warn off others.

Impatience gets the best of me. I dart for it, lengthening my strides when it gives chase. Just as I think I have it, the rabbit swerves to escape my jaws. I jump into the air to pounce on it, sliding down a slope when I hit a pile of decaying leaves.

My wolf chuffs at my clumsiness, tugging control back from me. My laughter becomes a series of yips from our upturned snout. Our tongue lolls from the side of our mouth.

Then I scent oakmoss, and a cooling breeze through the midday sun in the high field, and fresh cut cedar sticky with sap. Caden.

Once I hone in on his scent, the whole forest smells of him. He’s in the trees and the dirt, at the water’s edge where he’s stopped to drink before, the traces of him fading. He’s everywhere around me.

Mate.

No. He’s not ours. We don’t want him because he doesn’t want us.

My wolf doesn’t understand. If he doesn’t want her, why did he attack the offensive male? She liked that. He is strong, a good fighter. She scents the air to find which direction he’s in. To see his wolf and run with him.

No, I growl.

She flicks her tail at me, pacing through a patch of ferns. There’s something she’s focused on, but I can’t figure it out.

With the reminder that Caden’s out there somewhere, the aching throb of the incomplete bond returns. I stagger, flopping to my side, panting deeply. My wolf doesn’t like this feeling. Her annoyed rumble becomes a drawn out somber howl.

I lay prone for a long time. Too long. Something could get us like this. A bear, another pack member. I’m just laying here feeling sorry for myself.

No. A broken bond won’t be my end.

I’m stronger than this. So is my wolf.

With effort, I make it to my feet. We wobble a moment, enduring another wave of pain. Stupid mate. He did this to us. He doesn’t get to hurt us anymore.

Bit by bit, the aching cavernous emptiness in my chest becomes bearable. Not gone, but a dulled throb of a freshly healing wound scabbing over. Bearable if I grit my teeth. Ignorable if I pretend it doesn’t exist.

I haven’t survived this long after everything changed to allow something like this to break me now.

As awful as being rejected is, I’m stronger than my despair. Being at odds with this pack has never been easy. I’ll survive being rejected by my mate because I’m good at picking up the pieces.

I don’t need Caden.

9CADEN

Avery has a wolf. I hardly believe my eyes when she shifts before me, my wolf divided between the strong desire to go to her and biting my cousin’s face off. Once she scampers off, the lashing heartbeat in my ears subsides. My chest heaves with my labored breathing and my hold on Lorne’s throat flexes. I don’t release him, keeping him pinned because I’m not satisfied yet.

“Let me up,” Lorne says through his teeth.

“No.”

He jerks, meeting my eyes again in another unspoken challenge. “Caden⁠—”

I flash my teeth to shut him up. “You defy your alpha when he demands your submission? Show me your neck before I force you to shift and tear your pelt from your hide to teach you a lesson. Submit.”

Despite the roughness of my wolf bleeding into my voice with Alpha command, he holds out another second, five, ten. With each one I squeeze his throat a little tighter, grinding my knee into his abdomen. At last, his gaze drops away. With a rough grunt, I wrench his head to the side. He lies prone, hands out to expose his stomach when I rise to my feet.

Good. I can’t deal with rebellions like his. It’ll disrupt the pack, divide them into factions more than they already are. He could issue a challenge for the right to my title, the right to take the pack from me.

I won’t let that happen. My attention drifts to the tree line, finding the spot Avery disappeared. My jaw clenches. She unbalances me. I need to be steadfast to lead.

Avery’s wolf is surprisingly large, her coat a warm roan that gleamed beneath the moonlight. I push the thought of her beautiful wolf aside, wrestling myself under ironclad control as I address the crowd.

“I apologize for this interruption to our night of celebration. The matter’s been dealt with,” I announce. “Let’s put this behind us and show the moon goddess our thanks for her gifts to us in tonight’s run.”

Cormac scoffs, dragging his timid mate with him when he’s the first to stride past me for the trees. I work my jaw. One by one, the pack follows suit, stripping their clothes so they’ll have something to wear when they’re ready to return to the commons.

It’s a damn good thing we don’t have any first time shifters tonight, or their green energy could’ve tipped everything into more chaos. There are two coming of age at the next full moon. I’ll need to keep a vigilant watch to ensure it goes smoothly. There will be no repeats of tonight’s disastrous turn of events.

Energetic wolves chase each other around the commons while older ones sit off to the side, uninterested in the antics of the young. Once everyone’s shifted, they begin heading into the woods in family groups and mated pairs.

Once I’m satisfied things are back to normal, I shred what’s left of my shirt and join them. Before I get it off, my wolf makes himself known again with a fierce rumble.

I search the mostly emptied out clearing for what’s got him riled up now. Then I catch the barest hint of summer honeysuckle on the breeze coming from the north of pack territory.

My wolf rides me hard, catching me off guard with the force of how fiercely he fights me to let us shift, to track our mate’s scent, to provide and protect. I grit my teeth with the effort to maintain control once again.

Because if I don’t go after Avery right now, he will.

And moon goddess be damned, he’s winning.

He won’t be swayed or listen to the logic of man. This time there’s no stopping him. Teeth clenched to hang on to my eroding composure before he takes over, I signal for Liam. He’s at my side in an instant.

“Lead the pack run,” I push out, my voice already rougher with the wolf bleeding through. “Make sure there’s no more trouble.”

“Got it.” Liam eyes me as I hold off the shift as long as I can. “You good?”

“No,” I admit in a low huff, only because we’re the last two standing on the commons. “I—need to run. Now.”

“Do whatever you have to. I’ll find you later to check in.”

I nod, grateful to have his friendship and his loyalty as my beta. The shift happens faster than I’ve ever been through it, my body practically melting from two legs to four in a split second. The minute I’m my wolf, I’m on the move, snout low to the ground to catch the scent I’m after.

Loam. Pine and oak and birch. Prey. More prey, a stag I’ve been hunting for the last week. The stench of old man Elton Farrows seeping alcohol through his pores.

There—sweet, succulent mate.

I let loose a throaty howl before taking off. My claws dig into the ground to propel me faster. She hasn’t gotten more than a couple of miles from the clearing. I slow my gait when I reach her, stopping several feet off, behind a thick patch of tall ferns. She’s peering into the pond where Liam and I fish in our downtime.

He wants to go up to her. Sniff her, find all her parts that smell this good. Then lick them. His throat vibrates in pleasure and it takes way too much of my effort to cut it off before she hears us. He wrestles the little ground I gained from me, taking charge once more.

It’s not difficult to tell he’s unimpressed with me not wanting to close the distance and claim the beautiful, perfect mate fate chose for him.

I strain against the veil of our connection. She’s not our fucking fated mate. There’s no way fate would be that twisted to pair me with her.

He shakes his head, ignoring me once more. Stubborn bastard. But instead of making his presence known, he keeps his distance, observing her from afar.

When she takes off, we go with her, remaining just close enough to ensure she’s safe. At first she maps territory that’s familiar to her, finding her way to the trail head that leads north to her cottage. She marks it and my wolf does the same once she moves on to explore more.

The longer I follow her, the more satisfied my wolf is. He gradually eases back, granting me more than simple consciousness along for the ride. My thoughts become my own again now that he’s checked on her.

Yet I keep trailing her throughout her run instead of turning around to join the others. Why? Fuck if I know.

Maybe it’s still the wolf. Maybe I’m interested to see how she fares after watching her hide her crushing disappointment that she was supposedly Wolfless at her coming of age ceremony at eighteen the year before my father succumbed to the lasting injury he sustained. Her pride pissed me off then. I wanted to see her cry, but she didn’t shed a single tear when people told her she was a broken shifter.

My teeth gnash at the memory, a low chord of anger reverberating from deep in my chest.

There’s no telling when a fated bond will snap into place. When it does, it’s lucky for those that feel some draw to each other.

But I question why a mate bond awoke between us now. Did the bond bring her wolf out at last, or is it her late bloom that’s triggered it?

Some invisible pull keeps me on Avery’s tail. Unable to stop watching her.

She’s green, darting after every rustle through the bushes and getting distracted by every scent to blow this way. Yet I can’t tear my gaze away.

Her reddish brown coat gleams every time the moonlight breaks through the treetops. She’s built well, but spry enough to put power behind her jumps. Her large paws are well-balanced.

If I was into this, I see how she’d make a fine mate. My wolf chuffs in agreement, admiring how quickly she picks up on tracking.

Her hunting could do with practice. Twice she scares off two deer grazing not far off. She doesn’t realize they’re there, intent on a rabbit.

Several times, I back off when she seems to sense me there. I lay low on my haunches, belly to the ground, snout resting between my front paws. When I’m sure she’s forgotten about me, I continue tracking her at a distance.

After her failed attempt at catching the rabbit, I nearly bound down the slope she disappeared over with a miscalculated jump. Her broken howl yanks at something in my chest. I hold my ground, barely.

Just when I’m about to give in, she climbs over the drop off, shaking off. I remain hidden beneath a large bush. She glances around—right at me, I swear—then as if she’s seen right through me, judged me as unworthy of her attention, she dashes off once more.

I linger, planning to rejoin my packmates. Instead, I follow her paw prints.

When I catch up to her, she’s finally noticed one of the deer. It’s near a calm spring downstream from Silver Falls where most of the pack swims. She’s fixated on the animal as it dips its head for a drink, pawing the ground in anticipation.

Not yet, I think. This opening isn’t a good strategy. The deer has the advantage of more room to run than the more overgrown side of the stream we’re on.

Avery shoots from behind the rock she hid behind. When she hits the water, the deer takes off. Avery barks, probably swept up in the thrill of her hunt.

She’s shit at it. Amusement filters through me, coming out in a toss of my head. I jump the stream in one clean leaping bound after she disappears, tearing after her prey.

The initial humor fades when she fails to catch it a second and third time. Then a fourth when I herd the doe back in her direction and give her the perfect opening. Her tail twitches with her agitation and impatience.

She gives up on it. I stifle a growl, pouncing on it before it gets away. It goes down easily under the weight of my huge black wolf. I could eat it. My wolf doesn’t want the meat.

I drag it along once I pick up Avery’s trail heading back in the direction of her cottage. By the time I reach it, she’s inside.