Pack Punished, page 20
part #3 of Thrown to the Wolves Series
“Has anyone told you lately how ironic it is that you’re so emotionally intelligent, yet make so many socially idiotic decisions that upset people?”
Chuckling, he pecks a swift kiss to my lips. “Analysis and application are two very different concepts, as you’re well aware.”
With one final deep breath, I pull on my game face. “I do, seeing as how I’m amazing at both of them; you should take notes.”
Outright laughing now, he takes my hand and opens his door. “Duly noted. Come on, beautiful, let’s see if we can’t get some of that confidence to rub off on the villagers and make three of your mates trip over themselves to sing your praises.”
Letting him lead me out of the car, I counter, “Hold on a second, do you mean to tell me the other four won’t be?”
Pulling me into his side, he shuts the door. “Are you kidding me? We love you enough not to subject you to our paltry attempts at singing. Our neglect is a gift, I promise you.”
It works like a charm, lessening the intensity and worry of the moment. Letting him lead me toward where the others are waiting, laden down with luggage, I try to ignore the feeling of dozens of eyes on me that make my skin crawl uncomfortably. Not only from the few strangers gathered around Kaige, Hunter, and Damian, several more men emerged from the warehouse, but also those between the trees nearby.
“Don’t let them know that they get to you. Predators feed off of the thrill of toying with their prey, and if there’s one thing we will never be, it’s beneath them; in either fashion.” Her voice in my head sends a chill down my spine, reminding me that no matter how much I may think I have a firm handle on my mental space, it’ll never be exclusively mine. “We belong here, and not because of our mates. It’s because even the blood-soaked ground of this necropolis can’t deter us from setting foot wherever we desire, and right now, that’s here. We don’t require anyone’s permission; ever.”
Stealing my hand back, I wipe my sweaty palms on my shorts and reach for my backpack, Boden looking at me like I grew three heads. Shrugging a shoulder, I don’t bother fighting him for it, because let’s be real. Nobody wants to carry an extra thirty pounds on an uphill hike at the tail end of summer, and I’m not so stubborn as to lose the advantage of having seven men that are happy to get into pissing contests between each other over who can carry more shit without breaking a sweat.
Work smarter, not harder.
Without saying a single word to any of the strangers boring holes into my skull, I let Kaige lead the way off the beaten path through the trees. While there’s still grass underfoot, it’s a sickly green; yellow and patchy. Dry dirt stirs up dust clouds beneath our feet in several places, and most of the trees are long dead, their leafless branches offering no reprieve from the afternoon sun. One towers over the rest, a series of black scars ravaging the trunk from a lightning strike, not a speck of life to be found on it, but somehow still upright.
Dead inside, but still standing. It should be our pack’s new family crest.
Careful of my wording, since I’m sure at least one of the men stalking us is mated and has access to heightened hearing during the day, I attempt to dispel a fraction of the uncomfortable silence. “I'm going to play devil's advocate for a moment and admit that I get why everybody's killing each other out here. I’d go mad and start experimenting with a way to spice things up, too. Maybe not go so far as to emulate Frankenstein, but you know.”
The rock Reid steps on gives way in the dirt and nearly sends him sprawling, but with an awkward stumble, he rights himself, glaring at the nature around us like it personally offends him. “I hate this place already.”
Barking a laugh, Damian claps him on the shoulder on his way past. “Just wait until I tell you that the bunks share a single landline. Bright side, at least they have running water and electricity, even if it’s rationed.”
Slade looks back at me over his shoulder, his face a mask of horror like he seriously didn’t anticipate the practical applications of our trip out here beyond theoreticals. “We can shower though, right?”
As we reach a small, rocky ledge, rather than go around to continue up the steep slope, Kaige takes a running leap and scales it like he’s done it a thousand times before. Hunter grabs my hips and lifts me up to where Kaige can grab my hand and hoist me up the rest of the way without me needing to put in any effort at all. Waiting at the top, we watch them all climb it relatively easily despite the bags weighing them down.
“Am I the only wolf that actually has to work out to stay in shape? Fuck you guys.”
Cinjin grins up at me. “Yes, please.” Crouching down as he grips the top ledge, I offer a hand, but he doesn’t take me up on the offer. “I’m not pulling you down with me until we’re somewhere better, scoot over.”
Rolling my eyes, I leave them to it, following after Kaige and Hunter as they begin walking away. The latter calls back, “Yes, you can shower... on your allotted day. Conservation of resources with this many people.”
Slade catches up and grabs my hand, tugging me closer. “Quick, while they’re distracted, let’s make a break for it.”
Chuckling, I thread my fingers through his. “Are you kidding me? If I keep you here long enough, I won’t have to do a single thing to make this place more bearable. I just need to wait you out until you throw enough money at all of their problems, they go away.”
“Money doesn’t solve everything,” Bo argues, to which I shrug a shoulder.
“No, but take anyone that knows what it’s like to be poor, and they’ll tell you that it can solve ninety percent of them. Easier to solve the remaining couple when you aren’t worrying about people going hungry or getting their heat turned off in the dead of winter. Stress does more than age you and make you tired; it makes it hard to think about anything besides the most pressing problems staring you in the face.” My steps slow as I scrunch up my face.
Slade cocks his head, worried. “What is it?”
Biting my tongue, I slowly shake my head, walking again. “Thought nagging at the fringes of my mind, but nothing concrete enough to grasp and articulate.”
The rest of the journey bypasses in mutual silence, everyone lost in their heads. The closer we get to the Slaughters’ house, the more tense Damian, Hunter, and Kaige become. Their unease is contagious, spreading through our ranks until we’re all crawling out of our skins, expecting a blow to come from any direction at any second.
The paranoia is distracting as hell, and soon, I can’t even manage being nervous. I want something to happen, even if it’s awful, simply for the sake of alleviating this miserable state of anticipation. The people tailing us in the shadows of the dense trees aren’t even subtle about it; a sea of nameless faces, expressions warring between intrigue and disdain. Worse, when I force myself to meet a few of their stares, it’s to find their pupils blown despite the fact it’s the middle of the day. Sure, some may be mated, but even if that’s the case, it shows that Damian was right.
The people here suffer far more with their control than what we dealt with in Shadow Ridge, their wolves sinking their claws deeper into their systems.
Finally, the Slaughter house comes into view between the trees. The cabin is set in the center of a small clearing, not big enough to be one of the barracks style we passed, but definitely bigger than three guys need when there are so many people nearby that are struggling. In the distance, I can catch a small glimpse of the lake, and while the grass is a little greener on this side of the territorial divide, I’ve been in the wilderness enough to recognize that there’s still something seriously off about this place. There’s no sound of birds chirping, or anything scurrying through the trees. No signs of tracks besides boots on the exposed patches of dirt. The entire place simply feels like... holding your breath. A place where everyone’s afraid to breathe, knowing one wrong word or exhalation will cause the temporary stasis to shatter.
The front porch is open air, with a wooden railing framing it that’s waist high for most of the people around here, but more likely would reach my rib cage. On it are three men with short-cropped, dark brown hair, and similar enough features to show they’re brothers in blood and not just in name. Two are pacing; the massive beta, and one of the others, and the last is leaning on the railing so completely still, he may as well be made of stone. My mind immediately brings up an image of Emmy’s mate Maddox in comparison. While they aren’t clad in leather jackets, and are at least twenty years older, they could have easily stepped out of the same sort of biker bar I picture Maddox frequenting.
They’re dressed casually in jeans and plain t-shirts of varying colors, but there’s a no-nonsense, dangerous edge that emanates off of them that’s on par with several of my men, and there isn’t a doubt in my mind that the smaller two are both alphas. I hate to admit it, but I see why Damian, Hunter, and Kaige keep their distance. I can completely picture any of these three tearing a path through a swath of men without issue, and posting their corpses on spikes around their property like rotting, human scarecrows.
As we round the trees lining the dirt path leading up to their cabin, the three of them notice us simultaneously. The one leaning on the rail stands abruptly, and those that are pacing stop cold in their tracks. The real kick in the teeth, though? Witnessing the raw pain that transforms their faces into something heart-breaking when they set eyes on me, and it physically hurts.
Like Reid, I can typically put myself in other people’s shoes for the sake of understanding, but genuine empathy is a bit harder to accomplish, since I have a tendency to analyze situations more than feel them. Or at least, I used to, before my mates stormed into my life and blew my reality to high Hell. But looking at these three men and seeing the way that simply my face, so much like my mother’s, creates such a visceral reaction that it nearly brings them to their knees?
It’s a knife to the gut that I feel as completely as they do, because everything that’s torturing us is a concept that can’t truly be resolved. Even if things were magically perfect from this moment on, it would do nothing to give any of us back all of the lost time, and ‘what if’s are almost more painful than hope. You can delude yourself into believing that the future holds something better, but no amount of wishing can change the past.
Stopping a few feet shy of their front steps, I swallow uncomfortably. Where does someone even start in a situation like this? Say ‘hey, want to make a trip out to the nearest lab for a paternity test?’ Ask if they’re going to attempt to kill all of my mates and lock me in the basement until I give up my mother, then auction me off to the highest bidder?
As quickly as their distraught expressions appeared, they shutter them completely. Glaring first at the guys forming a semi-circle at my back, then at me, the beta demands, “What happened to your leg?”
His harsh tone instantly puts me on the defensive, my retort flying out of my mouth before I can weigh my words for diplomacy like I’d planned. “Zombie. What happened to your face?”
Cerulean eyes narrow on me. “What’s wrong with my face?”
Damian grabs my arm and hisses, “Sabrina!”
Naturally, a series of rumbling warning growls fill the clearing the second he touches me; from the Slaughters as well as my guys. The sound of bags hitting the ground proceeds Bo approaching my other side, preparing to intervene like he promised the last time I started jabbing wolves in the face with a verbal stick, yet I never take my eyes off of the man in front of me.
Unperturbed, I slightly tilt my head, assessing him. For what, though, even I’m not sure, but the action is as natural as breathing. “It doesn’t have a filter.”
Running his tongue over his teeth, he scrubs a hand over his chest and counters, “Looks like we’re on even footing, then.”
Raising an eyebrow, I straighten up. “Not even close, but it’s cute that you think so.”
Damian tugs me back a step and whisper-shouts, “What in the actual fuck are you doing right now?!”
Kaige is there a moment later, smacking Damian upside the head and peeling his fingers off of my arm. “Whatever she wants, idiot, same as any other day.”
I continue to stare down the behemoth in front of me, who’s still rubbing at his chest uncomfortably, now with his brows furrowed. One second turns into ten before he suddenly throws back his head and laughs. Ignoring Kaige and Bo completely, I’m swiftly enveloped in a bone crushing hug that has my feet coming off of the ground, and several angry shouts until the guys catch on to what’s actually happening.
“You’re nothing like we were expecting,” he declares with a grin before releasing me, but he doesn’t step away despite my men crowding me.
With a wry smile, I point out, “Expectations only lead to disappointment, but since you were likely basing your assumptions off of my mother, I’m happy to disappoint you.”
A thousand questions cross his face, yet he doesn’t voice a single one of them. He simply stares at my face like he can read all of the answers he wants on it, suddenly uneasy again. The brief moment of joy morphs into anxious fear, as if he’s worried that if he blinks for too long, I’ll disappear and this will all have been a cruel dream.
As my stomach flips, I reach behind me without looking, latching onto the first hand that I can find. An onslaught of thoughts are coming quicker than I can process, darting out of my reach before I can make sense of any of them. All I’m left with is the lingering ache of one painful emotion after another, throwing me off-kilter. If I can’t keep a clear head, I might miss a sign of things beginning to go awry, all of us blindsided and stumbling into a trap. I can’t let emotion get in the way of this meeting, because... it doesn’t matter what I want, what any of us want. Facts are facts, and we have to face them whether we like it or not.
Of everything we prepared for, nothing came close to this, and I need to remind myself that it’s completely possible it’s a manipulation tactic to get us to drop our guard. But it doesn’t feel like it, and I hate how my parental issues have me wanting to throw caution to the wind and latch onto the men attempting to fill the void Noah left behind. That pain on their faces was real, but it could simply be Mom’s ghost haunting them, not actually because of me.
Slowly, some of the pain subsides into a dull ache as Kaige discreetly uses our connection to siphon from me. Sebastian was rubbing his chest. The flurry of thoughts and emotional onslaught was what I pulled from him, not me spiraling.
I have a really shitty grasp on reality since my wolf emerged in all of her blazing glory, feeding me other people’s thoughts and images, making them seem like my own. Ironically enough, that might be a blessing if Mom was right. If I was feeding off of her all of these years, that’s why I could never shake her voice from my head. But now that I’ve completely burned through my reserves, her voice isn’t torturing me like usual.
Maybe I’m not actually as fucked up as I thought I was. I mean, I am, but in a fun new canine-succubus way instead of a destructive blob of depression. You know; personal growth.
If I can conquer her, then these men should be a walk in the park. So while my guys are always hung up on alliances and treaties, respect and toeing the line, I’m... not. I’m already exhausted by all of the deception and ulterior motives, of playing political games and humoring awful people in the name of maintaining a miserable, tentative peace. I’d rather someone hated me to my face than behind my back. So even though my mates hope I can solve all of their problems, we’ve clearly seen over the course of the last few weeks that all I do is make everything worse, destroying whatever I touch. Rather than shy away from that fact and lament over my cursed fate, I embrace it.
Like Emmy’s final courting dinner, my contribution to pack drama is to escalate whatever situation I’m in until people slip up and reveal their true colors.
After an ungodly long silence, I prompt, “So you would be?” I trail off expectantly, craning my head back to stare him in the face.
Raising a fist to his mouth, he awkwardly clears his throat. “Sebastian.” Gesturing at the other two that are hanging back by the steps, he indicates the older alpha in the black shirt with the hard, onyx eyes to match and announces, “Merrick.” Then, points to the one that’s obviously several years younger than them both, yet it does little to detract from the merciless air that clings to him. “And Leo.”
Tentatively, they approach, far more reserved and cautious than their brother. Leo offers a dismissive glance at my men before offering a hand. Tightening my hold on Kaige’s hand, I slowly slip my free hand into Leo’s, and he gives it a firm shake.
“I prayed that Adrian was wrong, because if he wasn’t? It was going to hurt like hell.” Without warning, he tugs me into his chest and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “And fuck, does it ever.”
Remember the plan, remember the plan.
Thankfully, my face is buried in his chest, giving me time to hastily blink back tears before anyone notices. I missed this feeling; far more than I realized. Kaige gives my hand a quick, reassuring squeeze, never once letting me slip far away from him. It helps more than I can thank him for, and by the time I’m pulling away from Leo’s embrace, I can trust my voice not to crack when I speak.
“No need to get carried away or anything. Still have to make a trip to get a paternity test done, and who knows how long the results will take to come in the mail?”
For the first time, Merrick speaks. “Doesn’t matter.” At my confusion, he shrugs. “Whether or not you’re our daughter by blood means nothing. You think when you have a child, the rest of your mates will treat it as anything other than their own?” His eyes narrow dangerously at the men surrounding me, like he’s imagining them doing such an unforgivable thing. “That’s not how packs work. Any child of our mate’s is as much our responsibility to care for as if they were our own.”
I’m pretty sure I’m going to exist in a perpetual state of nausea the duration of our stay with as much as my stomach is somersaulting throughout this conversation. Kaige takes a subtle step closer, tightening his hold on my hand briefly before letting go completely. With both hands free, I run them up my face and over my hair. Threading my fingers at the nape of my neck, I tilt my head to the sky and close my eyes for several seconds, taking deep breaths.
