Pack Poisoned, page 24
part #2 of Thrown to the Wolves Series
“So, the problem is you don’t feel safe with Slade anymore?”
They both press their lips into a flat line and look away. Nodding to myself, I try to figure out the right thing to say before I just... stop. I quit over-analyzing and over-thinking, instead going for whatever the heck I want to say, since it’s all blowing up in our faces one way or another.
“Then I suppose it’s a good thing Slade isn’t the only alpha anymore. Think logically for a moment. We’re about to piss off several of the surrounding packs before we make our indefinite trip out of town; did you really think we’d leave the two of you and your mates here to deal with the fallout? You already have three flights booked, each. That way they won’t know which you’ll be taking if they decide to look. And in all actuality, it’ll be none of them. You’ll be heading off for an extended vacation in Alaska; part of the trip by train, the last leg by boat, and you’ll pick up rental cars under fake names.”
As they gawk at me, I shrug. “I wasn’t about to risk you guys being used in a retaliation scheme. So we’ll scope out the lay of the land that Damian’s pitching, get a feel for not only his pack, but also the surrounding ones to see if it’s a better fit than here, and if we should consider moving out there permanently. Technically, I married into that one, too, so there’s no reason Pack Hawthorne couldn’t merge with-” I trail off with some creative expletives, both of the girls snickering when they realize that I’m the worst mate in existence. “With Pack Damian Somethingorother.”
Emmy and Lizzie have a silent conversation with their eyes the way only people that have spent an abundance of time together can. I don’t intrude, stealing another cupcake and reveling in my sugar overload. Hunter was right; I’m crashing for more than a day when I come down from my manic high. Until then, though, I’m going to enjoy every sweet, sweet minute of imaginary normal that I can get my hands on.
“You know,” Lizzie starts, picking her words carefully. “An alpha isn't the strongest physically, it’s mentally. They’re supposed to take care of their pack, make the hard choices. They sacrifice a piece of themselves for the sake of the whole. Their entire identity revolves around other people until it threatens to overtake everything else, including themselves.”
Emmy picks up where she left off. “And they need that pack, because while they know how to take care of others, they don't know how to take care of themselves; not really.” She pauses, letting her words sink in. “They need a pack maybe even more than us weaker wolves rely on the safety it offers because without one, an alpha has nothing worth protecting or living for. That’s why the larger ones thrive while the lone wolves ultimately go feral; there’s safety in numbers, but not always in the obvious way.”
Sipping my wine, I wait for them to get to whatever point they’re trying to make, all the while filing away their declarations, because they aren’t wrong. I’ve never felt more alive than I have since meeting them, building a family that thrives more when they lean on each other than when they branch off on their own downward spirals.
Mom always preached that relying on anyone was a weakness, that the second they disappeared, you’d be left floundering. She knows how packs operate, and that hurts more than anything, because it means she also knew that she was hurting me. Neglect is one thing, intentional torture another entirely.
She hates me because she expected me to be different than other female wolves, isn’t that what she said? The designation in the hierarchy isn’t enough, she expected me to break the mold without a blip of information or preparation, holding me to an impossible standard I could never hope to achieve. Maybe if she’d actually taught me a damn thing, I could have had a shot, but is it really any surprise that I failed a test that I wasn’t even aware I was taking and couldn’t study for?
Emmy tucks a lock of damp, blonde hair behind her ear, pinning me with those bright, golden eyes that see far more than anyone gives her credit for. “We’re worried about you. You were alone a hell of a long time, Sabrina, and alphas weren’t made for that life. It’s a miracle you’re as put together as you are. So while you’re sending us away for our own safety, and I agree it’s a smart move... make sure you’re leaning on my brothers in the meantime, okay? And that other mate of yours; hell, snag the other two if you want, and smack some sense into Reid while you’re at it. You need people, even if it seems easier to do everything yourself.”
Blowing out a long breath, I don’t immediately respond. I see what they’re saying, I just don’t particularly like it. But they have a solid point, and I’d be a fool to disregard their advice simply because it’s not what I want to hear.
“Speaking of Reid-” I take a hefty drink “- what the hell do I do about him?”
That animates my companions better than anything, happy to forget all about wolfish politics in favor of boy drama.
Lizzie is the first to throw her two cents into the pot. “That boy’s balked against everything we are since he was born, and removed himself to the fringes since long before their parents went mad. I’m not surprised that of all of them, he’s the one that got cold feet. He clings to the illusion of control tighter than you do; and that’s saying something.”
She ignores the way I flip her off. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not mad. I get it, seriously. And I could even make my peace with only being friends if it really came down to it. I suppose it's-” I grimace when the last few drops from my bottle hit my tongue and I only have a mild buzz to speak of, shamelessly snatching another. “It's the fact that he's afraid of me that really rubs me the wrong way. It makes me feel all... gross? Wrong, if that makes any sense? It means that there will always be distance between us even as friends because this will constantly be a threat looming over our heads, even years from now.”
Lizzie hums in contemplation, grabbing a donut. “I get that. You were made to take care of people, and he’s making it difficult. If we ignore the alpha personality and go for the mate factor, it’s like the more you push, the more it feels as if you’re trying to coerce him. That’s likely where the ‘gross’ feeling is coming from.”
Emmy, on the other hand, starts laughing as she chimes in, “I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you and Reid have more in common than you realize. Yet you wrapped your head around not only the fact that you’re one of us, but the first female alpha we’ve ever heard of. You took on my brothers like it was nothing, and still manage to girl-boss the hell out of your new job; one that’s way above what many people would attempt, I might add. So, what is it that made you accept this rather than balk at the idea?”
Mulling it over, I ramble my thoughts aloud. “Because I didn’t have a choice? Denying it wouldn’t have made it go away, and there was no outrunning a problem that would only get off on the chase, so I was better off standing my ground.”
Lizzie smirks. “It’s almost as if women can see ten steps ahead, while men are still stumbling around step number two.”
Emmy bursts out laughing before taking another drink, a touch of color creeping into her cheeks. “Reid likes to think that if he’s determined enough, he can will his wolf out of existence. I love my brother, but he needs a slap of reality to make him realize that his plans don’t mean shit in the grand scheme of things. He’ll do the typical guy thing; hem and haw for a while, be distant, then some trigger will cause him to snap and he’ll get out of his own way. Decide ‘fuck it’ and take what he wants, consequences to be damned. Men are painfully predictable.”
Water sloshes around Lizzie as she grabs another bottle of wine, face flushed. “My money’s on Hunter or Kaige kissing you, and him getting all territorial.”
Rolling my eyes, I redirect, gesturing to Emmy. “And what about you? I haven’t seen you emerge from your sex den in two weeks; are they even feeding you anything besides dick? Is this venting session really a cry for help because your vagina needs a break?”
She laughs so hard that she snorts, sputtering wine and sending the rest of us off in a chain reaction of hysterics until I can barely breathe. Gasping for air, she wheezes, “Hit the nail on the head, babe. It’s been-” shaking her head, she tilts her head up, a genuine smile lighting up her face. “It’s been something else, that’s for damn sure. Sex aside, I’m honestly happy that I chose them. They’re good men, and I’m thrilled to call them mine. I stand by my previous statement; I don’t care where we live, so long as I have them. So send me off to the frigid wilderness, or torch Hawthorne manor and whisk us across the country to Damian Whatshisname’s home, I honestly don’t mind one way or another. They make me happy, so if that means putting up with some drama before we find our peace, I’m okay with that.”
Lizzie coughs into her fist, “Sap.”
Emmy shoves her shoulder and Lizzie goes under, emerging sputtering as the three of us devolve into laughter over every little thing. As Hunter pointed out, we don’t actually solve anything, but I still feel a hell of a lot better after bouncing some thoughts around and complaining in a judgment-free zone for a bit.
Bracing myself, I let the alcohol act as encouragement and hastily blurt out, “So how do you go about telling your mates you want to level up and try anal without it turning into a fistfight?”
Chapter 16
Damian
Careful not to wake her, I brace a hand on the back of the couch and kiss Sabrina’s cheek on my way through the living room. She’s currently snuggled up with Boden, using the beta as a bed for her power nap, and I’m honestly surprised he got her to walk away at all. She and Reid have been glued to their computers now that there’s only six days left and their coworker quit on them. If those dark circles under her eyes are anything to go by, she’s been skipping the breaks she agreed to as soon as our backs are turned.
Keeping his voice a hushed murmur, Bo confirms as much. “Honor system was a bust. Went to check on her and she’d stashed her laptop under her pillow; hopped on the minute I was out of earshot.”
Sighing in exasperation, I shake my head. “She takes the term ‘going to work yourself to death’ like a literal challenge. I can’t wait for this to be over and done with.”
Bo makes a soft grunt of agreement, tucking the throw blanket tighter around her. “Right there with you.”
We fall into silence that gives our collective worries ample room to spread, both of us staring down at her for a minute. That’s all that I give us; one minute to second guess going through with her plan. There are a million ways it could go wrong, and it goes against all of my instincts to put her directly in the line of fire. But if I’m going to bet the lives of my pack on her, I need to believe that she knows what she’s doing, to believe in her.
“It’s a solid plan,” I assure him. “We’ll keep her safe, and she’s capable of more than either of us know.” He nods, but there’s still doubt in his eyes as he gazes down at her. “Hey.” Waiting until he looks my way, I speak with conviction. “Keep your head in the game. If you’re distracted, people are going to get killed. You do what you do best, beta; whatever she needs you to.”
Determination overtakes his features, and I tip my head respectfully before leaving the room. We all have our parts to play in this, but if we’re busy hovering over her when the moment comes, we’ll ruin everything we’ve been working toward. I meant what I said; it’s a good plan, but it hinges on everyone sticking to it.
Wandering the hallways, I extend my hearing, seeking out Hunter. These past couple of weeks, I’ve played around with how to cope with being in a constant state of heightened senses, but it’s still a work in progress. For the most part, though, I can tune things out into background noise, actively choosing when to hone in on something. So now that I’m listening for him, it’s easy enough to narrow down where in the house he’s at.
Not like he’s making it difficult with the way he’s laying into Slade.
A few minutes later, I’m pushing open the door to his personal study. Slade’s sipping a glass of scotch in his seat behind his desk, but there’s something lifeless in his eyes that makes me pause. This isn’t the stoic mask he wears like a second skin, he looks... numb. Defeated. He doesn’t seem to even be listening to Hunter’s tirade, or care at all, really.
“This is insane, how do you not see that!” Hunter slaps his palm on the desk before shoving away from it, proceeding to pace. His hair is wild, as if he’s run his fingers through it several times already in his frustration.
Slade’s tone is as devoid of emotion as his face. “Lands don't matter if there's no one alive to inhabit them. We can rebuild if necessary, anywhere we choose.” A small bit of pain sparks to life in his eyes before his expression shutters. “Enough people have died fighting over this patch of dirt and clinging to the legacy built upon it.”
Hunter’s snarl reverberates around the room, more animal than man, and I close the door behind me before he gets any louder. And as pissed off as he is? It’s pretty much guaranteed to happen. Nothing ruffles Hunter’s feathers more than a lack of reaction, highlighting that he’s the only one losing control, which only makes him more upset.
“You're running like a damn coward,” he spits.
Like a flip was switched, Slade snaps. Shoving to his feet, his chair crashes to the ground as he braces his hands on the desk. “I'm accepting that she'll never be safe here, so you should be fucking thrilled! It's what you came here to prove, isn’t it?”
A second later, he whips his arm forward, glass shattering against the wall a few inches from Hunter’s head. One of the shards slices a line through his cheek, the sharp tang of alcohol and blood filling the room. Rather than launch himself at Slade, weirdly enough, some of the tension leaves his muscles, as if he’s relieved.
Taking a few breaths, Slade attempts to center himself, shaken up by his violent reaction. “But I can set aside my pride if it means keeping my family safe, and it was the only way that Thatcher would agree. I'm not going to subject my mate to always having to look over her shoulder for the rest of her life because these people hate my family enough that they very well might actually kill her simply to spite us. Sabrina mated into a legacy that’s better off dead.”
Foreboding snakes down my spine.
Slade shakes his head, picking his chair up off of the ground. “So let them have the property and think that they won, that they broke us down and scared us off. They can turn our family name into even more of a mockery of what it once was than they already have. It doesn't matter; none of it matters if it means everyone is miserable all of the time."
Glancing at the mess across the room, he sighs, giving up on trying to piece anything back together and striding my way, shutting down more with every additional step. "I'm tired. Tired of all of the games, of the constant pissing contests. So call me a coward if you want, Hunter, I really just... don't care anymore. The Hawthorne line is officially dead, long live Pack Kincaid. I’m done, it’s done, so your bitching about it is pointless.” Shock renders me speechless as I move out of his way so that he can open the door. Flinging a hand out to gesture at me without looking back, Slade says, “Take your problems to him from now on; I’m going for a run.”
The door clicks shut behind him, the silence left in his wake absolutely deafening. Hunter recovers first, turning his aggression my way. “You knew about this?”
“Not a damn clue.” Scrubbing a hand down my face as I process the implications, I sigh. “I suppose it makes everything easier in the long run, at least. We don’t need to convince her to stay if she doesn’t have this place to come back to.” Cocking my head, I scan his face, but don’t find the answer I’m searching for. “Why is it pissing you off so much? We came here prepared to kill them before everything spiraled out of control, and it’ll put them all exactly where we want them.”
He gives me a noncommittal grunt. Heading for the desk, he hops up to sit on it, reaching for the abandoned decanter and taking a swig. “He’s giving up. What type of alpha does that? Then add in all of this bullshit with the nerdy twin.” Taking another drink first, he growls, the glass groaning under his tightening grip. “None of them are fighting for her hard enough. If they’re willing to go belly up now, they’ll only be in our way. We should go back to plan A and leave them behind.”
Closing the distance between us, I pluck the bottle out of his hand with a pointed look. “Give them a little more credit than that. By not having to manage everything anymore, Slade will be able to fully concentrate his energy on Sabrina. He won’t be overextended, which makes him more useful because we’ll have an alpha with all of the freedom of a rankless wolf. Reid?” Wavering my head back and forth as I consider it, I settle on, “Eh, I could take him or leave him, honestly. He’s pissing me off, too. Could be one hell of an asset, though, if he can get his shit together. Look at the things he’s managed to dig up while building that system with Sabrina, so may not want to write him off completely quite yet.”
Clapping his shoulder, I head for the door. “Now come on. We’ve got to get going, or we’ll miss our window of opportunity.”
***
Best part of being outsiders? The fact that anyone outside of those at the Hawthorne’s house when we arrived doesn't recognize us. We can hide in plain sight so long as Kaige and I wear sunglasses to conceal our unusual eye colors.
Sipping my water as the heavy bass assaults my eardrums, I subtly take another picture of the Aldervale alpha doing a line of coke off of a stripper’s stomach. Not a fine look for someone sitting on the Shadow Ridge City Council.
It never ceases to amaze me that people strive to obtain positions of power, forgetting that the more impressive the title, the easier it is to be taken away. A judge plays God with people’s fates, but is held to a certain standard in the court of public opinion. Lawmaker? One picture at the right angle to make things look worse than they are and a few rumors to fan the flames, their entire life can burn down alongside their career. Wealth can buy your way out of legal trouble, but it can’t buy you a new reputation; not in the digital age. Once something’s out there, it’s out there forever, thanks to the power of screenshots.
