Pack Poisoned, page 21
part #2 of Thrown to the Wolves Series
“Incubi and primal play,” I one-up him with a smug grin. “Thank the gods for hentai, or this stuff might ruin porn for me. Once you go demon dick, you don’t go back.”
He snorts, but doesn’t disagree. By the time twenty minutes have gone by, we have enough of a list that we’ll keep our mate busy, hopefully in multiple ways, for a couple of months. While we continue to browse, I drop my voice until it’s barely audible.
“Did you notice that he was never looking us in the eye for any of those confessions?”
He hums in contemplation. “With the exception of how he’d protect her to the best of his ability... shortly followed by declaring there was a pack next door that killed his parents.” Grimacing, he concedes, “Which is literally no different than what we’re doing here, to be fair.”
I nod, but a knot still tightens in my stomach as I confidently state, “They’re hiding something.”
Withdrawing his phone, Bo types out his reply, making absolutely certain that there’s no way that Kaige could be eavesdropping. And we know how Sabrina feels about secrets. Let them dig their own graves, and we’ll be there to help her bury them alive.
Chapter 13
Reid
The faint sound of howls reach us, even in the dining room. Slade shifts between feet, the only sign of his discomfort, yet he’s able to keep himself in check. Night doesn’t bring about forced shifts as it did in the first few days, but it’s clearly difficult to combat the urge. All traces of hazel in his eyes have been consumed in the face of his wolf writhing just beneath the surface of his skin. It was a wise call, though. Emmy and her mates have stayed pretty much confined to their suite of rooms since she verbally claimed them, and by the number of howls, it seems that ’claim’ isn’t only a statement anymore.
And none of my brothers trust themselves to run alongside the rest of our pack. It’s... depressing, in all honesty. Pack runs are supposed to be as natural as breathing, a way to strengthen the bond between all involved. Now, they’re forced to remain outsiders in our own home, none of them willing to risk hurting our sister or her mates.
Everything’s broken, and I’m not sure how much longer I can pretend that it’s not.
I’m not missing out on anything. I don’t want to shift; never have. My brothers, though, were made for this life, even if they resent it. They took it hard when the men we grew up with as friends and family were cut down alongside our parents, but the entire tragic event barely even fazed me. I’ve always been on the outside looking in, disconnected from everyone around me, and this is no different.
The concept is sad, yet I don’t truly feel it. It’s more of a dull awareness, an analysis, and frustrating in the regard that I can’t seem to find the answer, so the emotion is self-induced and self-directed. Isolated.
“Are you near a break?” Boden asks Sabrina, striding into the room.
She mumbles something indecipherable as her fingers fly across the keys. We’re all aware of her quirks by now, so he pulls up a chair, since that’s Sabrina speak for ‘let me finish up this train of thought before I lose it.’ He knows better than to interrupt, so he simply sets the small bag he brought with him on the table, pulling out his phone to play on until she’s done. I save my current document and close my laptop, stretching and using my chair to crack my back, stiff as hell from several hours of work without moving.
It was more productive than I anticipated, though. While Sabrina concentrated on our formal project, I delved into our off-the-books one, and some of the things I found? It’s like they were begging us to take the evidence off of their hands.
My twin comes in shortly after, sitting across from me with the sole purpose of attempting to laser off my face with his glare. Things have been increasingly awkward between us since my decision to take a step back, but they’ve nearly reached a boiling point. Much longer, and I wouldn’t put it past him to set my bed on fire while I’m sleeping in it, withholding a bucket of water until I promised to get with the program and beg her for forgiveness.
“Okay.” Sabrina flips her laptop closed, stretching her arms above her head with a groan. “What’s up?”
Hopping to his feet, Bo rounds the table and sits beside her computer, offering the gift bag. “I was trying to wait for the right moment since we’ve been doing everything out of order, but I realized there’s never going to be one. So I figured I’d compromise and wait until you surfaced from cyberspace.”
She hesitates. “That looks an awful lot like a jewelry store bag.”
He smirks. “That would be correct.”
Narrowing her eyes, they flit from the bag to my brother’s face. “I’m not sure that I want to open it.”
Snorting in amusement, he slides it closer. “Trust me, you want to open it. Remember, I’m amazing at following directions. Don’t worry, I listen closely when you talk.”
With only a few more seconds of hesitation, she reaches for the bag, reluctance giving way to curiosity. Withdrawing a black, rectangular box, she lifts the lid. Right on top is the receipt, several things circled in red marker, and I lean closer to read over her shoulder.
Her laughter bounces off the walls. “I didn’t even know they made coupons for these stores; I thought it was only sales.”
A smug, satisfied smile lights up his face as he crosses his arms. “Anything can be an extreme sport if you’re dedicated enough; even couponing. Stacked the sale price with a promo code, and exploited the wording in a manufacturer’s coupon to where they had to break down and agree to accept it simply to make me go away. Even if it worked out to a little more than you’d have liked me to spend, the fact that I managed to get it eighty percent off should be impressive enough that you have no choice but to love it so much, you never take it off.”
Still chuckling, she sets the receipt aside, her laughter drying up as she gawks at it. Delicately lifting the necklace from the box, she inspects it, taking in every little detail. “It’s gorgeous.”
With the utmost care, he tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “So you’ll understand why I thought of you when I saw it.”
The cheesy line helps snap her out of her state of awe, a smile spreading across her face. “Well played, Hawthorne. Well played.”
Beaming, he slips the silver chain over her head. “I have my moments.”
It’s long enough that the claw-shaped pendant hangs beneath her breasts, ensuring that so long as she doesn’t shift into anything bigger than Slade’s hellhound, it won’t be destroyed. Pinching it between her fingers as she rises to her feet, she holds it away from her body to stare at a little longer.
Fascinated as always at how she views the world, I watch as a myriad of emotions cross her face, living vicariously through her. From discomfort, awe, and joy, to something akin to yearning that I can’t really discern, she runs the emotional gambit, eventually settling in a happy place. She makes it look so easy, that I don’t think I’ll ever stop being envious. Sabrina dissects things with flawless precision, compartmentalizes the pieces, and reconstructs them to her liking within her mind.
She’s the only thing that’s ever managed to make the monster in my chest revolt, reminding me of how spoiled I’d gotten in how dormant and subdued he once was. Sabrina may be a similar breed, but she’s no wolf. She brings out the worst in us, exacerbating our curse until we lose either our minds, or ourselves.
“My turn!” My twin straight up sits on the table and swings himself closer rather than walk around, crossing his legs and setting his gift bag on his lap. Gesturing at the present on his crotch, he commands, “Open.”
Rolling her eyes, she steps forward to stick her hand in the bag, surprised more that she wraps her fingers around an actual gift instead of his dick. Withdrawing a sheathed dagger, her breath hitches, and my brother is quickly forgotten as she traces her fingers over the sleek, onyx covering. Sliding the dagger out of its sheath, it reveals a matching obsidian blade, but with a silver, swirling design etched into it. The weapon may as well have been formed from the aether of the night sky, radiating the promise of death in an elegant way fit for a queen.
Cin pulls something else from the bag as she stands there, rendered speechless. Sliding to his feet only to crouch beside her, he slides up the hem of her dress to fasten the leather straps around her thigh, offering a holster for the blade.
“Now, I’m not saying Bo’s gift is better by telling you that you shouldn’t wear this all of the time,” he teases, fingers lingering on her inner thigh, “but you should definitely wear it whenever you’re awake, because it’s sexy as hell.”
Sliding the blade into the thigh strap, she adjusts her dress to cover it, grinning ear to ear. “I’m starting to get on board with this whole gift thing, not gonna lie.” Toying with her necklace again, she shifts her hips so that the hem of her skirt flares out, revealing a hint of the weapon stashed beneath. As if she can hear the reaction her words set off in their brains, she goes stock-still and raises a finger. “Within reason.”
I swear, my brothers don’t hear the protest, lapping up her excitement over things they provided for her like cavemen. She looks so carefree for once, I can’t even fault them for it. Her genuine happiness is rare, but moments like these? It’s like staring directly into the sun.
A pang lances through my chest, forcing me to turn away in the face of the visceral reaction and a second to get my head on straight. She’s simply... perfect. Too fucking perfect, and it’s terrifying. It’s like she was created to be exactly what each of us needs, and now to find out that even if they aren’t genetically related by blood, her mother’s mates have been involved with Stonewood for who knows how long right under all of our noses? It’s too convenient, like we’re missing something obvious. Almost as if we’re being set up better than all of the failed attempts my brothers have handled over the past week, caught in a game of chess without knowing who’s playing us.
For someone who supposedly had no idea what she was until a month ago, she’s certainly adapting in spades.
Because she was raised to be able to. You don’t get dumped in the middle of the woods with only the clothes on your back, maybe a knife if you’re lucky, and not learn to work with whatever you’ve got.
Her mom was training her, but the question is, for what? To hide from our kind without being as reliant as our females tend to be, or to be able to think on her feet so that she could destroy us from within?
Stop it. She’s been on her own for years, she’s not some spy sent to infiltrate our ranks. There’s no way that she could have known where Emmy would be assaulted and planted herself nearby to intervene so that she could worm her way into our lives. Sabrina’s more authentic than anyone I’ve ever met, and there’s no way that she’s able to fake that, to have bullshitted all of our interactions up to this point. She’d never have left and holed herself up in her apartment if that were the case.
I’m an asshole, projecting my tumultuous thoughts onto her like I’ve already accepted that she’s my alpha and I need her to take them off of my hands.
“Thank you,” she says, kissing both of my brothers enthusiastically.
This time, as my chest twists with a sinking sensation akin to the drop of an elevator full of pissed off wasps, I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from reacting. Flipping my computer back open as an excuse to ignore the three of them, I switch to autopilot. I bring up the internet and a fresh document, but my fingers move of their own accord as I begin my next search, my mind a million miles away.
It’s not fair to Sabrina after I was the one to push her away to make things even more complicated by sending her mixed messages. I need to keep everything on firm lockdown, be one hundred percent sure on how I want to proceed before I let her see how she affects me. As much as I’m obsessed with her, possibly even in love with her, I can’t pursue anything unless I’m willing to become everything that I swore I never would. After seeing what my fathers did, the way they savagely tore humans apart like they were out of their minds with bloodlust, how can I risk losing myself the same way?
I’m not a feral animal, not a monster. And fuck, that was as wolves, not whatever hell beasts my brothers were harboring, that Sabrina-
That Sabrina created.
There’s no way that those monsters were living within my brothers and a foreign alpha all of this time. Sabrina’s bite... infected them somehow. Twisted them into something darker. This woman was created to drive us all insane, to take everything we know and blow it to high Hell. I just don’t understand why, if she’s playing an active part in it or simply a byproduct, as much of a victim in this as we are.
Yet I can’t stay away from her either, can’t fault her for whatever she is any more than I hate myself for being born cursed. How can I resign myself to this fate no matter how much I may love her? But what sort of life am I really even living if it doesn’t include Sabrina? The first night I met her it sparked life into my other half, claiming her as ours then and there. I can’t imagine going back to the way things used to be before her, nor do I want to. She’s changed everything in my life simply by existing, and it’s driving me fucking insane.
I don’t know what to do, so in turn, I keep choosing to do nothing in an attempt to buy myself a little more time before I’m forced to either lose my family, or myself.
A movement in my peripherals draws my eye, only to find Sabrina hard at work, the two of us alone once more. I return to my own efforts, needing to do something productive, but a nagging sensation in the back of my head refuses to let up. The more I attempt to ignore it, the more a splitting headache blossoms in my skull, equivocally cleaving my brain in two as I war with myself, fighting to shove him back in his godsdamned cage where he belongs.
Before the snarl on the tip of my tongue slips out, I relent a fraction. Pinching the bridge of my nose and taking a few deep breaths, I cave into the impulse to watch Sabrina from the corner of my eye.
Only to find her fingers still on her keyboard.
Turning to face her more fully, I attempt to catch her eye, but that unnatural coral gaze is completely glazed over. Sabrina’s as lost in her own head as I’ve been, like there’s something in the air tonight.
“Sabrina.”
She doesn’t respond, and I’m forced to gently shake her shoulder. The second I make contact, I can’t bite back the distressed rumble that escapes from my chest, but it’s cut off in relief when she blinks repeatedly, coming out of it.
“Fuck, sorry.” Rubbing the heel of her hand over her heart, she shakes her head.
It’s what she doesn’t say that has me frowning. No, ‘I must be more tired than I thought,’ or anything of the sort. She offers no pleasantries or dismissives, which arguably means she’s fully aware of whatever caused her to zone out. We go back to work, yet I’m not able to concentrate at all, subtly watching her. Not ten minutes pass by before her fingers slow again, though this time, she’s still typing.
She’s able to revert to autopilot like I can. Fuck, is there anything this woman can’t do?
Hesitating, I wonder if I’m pushing her too far on the work front. Yet every alpha in this house has taken it upon himself to ensure that she’s taking regular meal breaks, encouraging power naps since we don’t have the time to waste on a full night’s sleep now that we’re tackling our side project on top of Jonathan ignoring our messages. Not if we want to have any hope of actually pulling off this suicidal plan of hers and saving both of our careers. So this isn’t a neglect thing, this is a Sabrina thing, another anomaly.
“Sabrina. Are you okay?”
She freezes before plastering a fake smile on her face that instantly raises my hackles, but as soon as she opens her mouth to brush me off, she hesitates and lets the mask fall. Shaking her head again, this time in frustration, she growls, and a small smile twists my lips. As much as everything’s changed, is still changing, the Sabrina I know and love is still in there, the one that wants all of her interactions to be authentic, even if they hurt.
“I don’t think I gave enough credit to Slade’s warning about siphoning, especially when it’s already been hard enough to wrap my mind around the wolf development. But intrusive thoughts aren’t anything new, they’re just a hell of a lot more frequent and way darker than I’m used to dealing with. I’ll be okay as soon as I clear out a space in my brain to chuck them so that they quit distracting me, promise.”
Goosebumps rise on my skin as I choose my words carefully. “You said that Slade and Bo managed to shift back on their own. You can’t keep helping Damian through the process if it’s hurting you; he can deal.”
She pivots in her chair to face me, raising an eyebrow. “I haven’t been. I think you’re forgetting not only the guys that tried to abduct me from the police station, but another key fact; I didn’t get to grow up practicing like Slade did. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, I’m figuring it out as I go. I went from being human, to soul-sucking off six guys in the span of a week. It’s been a bit of a mind fuck, thank you very much, but I like to think that I’m managing fairly well, all things considered. Well, if we ignore the fact that I came out on the other side of an identity crisis with a split personality, but that’s neither here nor there.”
It’s eating away at her sanity. We’re a curse, a plague, and we’re going to kill the only good thing to ever happen to us.
“You should talk to somebody about this.”
She rests her cheek on her hand, bracing her elbow on the table. “I am, I’m talking to you.”
Slapping my palm down on the table with a growl, I snap, “Don’t be cute. Somebody that can help you, and we both know that’s not me.”
Naturally, Hunter chooses that moment to walk in, and if looks could kill, I’d be beheaded, resurrected, and murdered three times over. “Isn’t that the damn truth.” He takes up his usual post leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed, and glaring my face off with a scowl.
