I flash a wary look at the doc in the corner, who turns a shade paler, his brow furrowing, etching his features into that of worry, and he casts an evasive look back at me. He darts a glance at Colton, then back again to me, suddenly sheepish.
“It can’t be Deacon, right? It’s too early!” I point out while asking him to confirm, to calm the sudden whirlwind of nerves, hating the apprehension I can feel from him, but he swallows loudly.
“I may have exaggerated our head start somewhat, a teensy little bit. I didn’t want to alarm you and give you a reason to doubt coming with me, dear girl. If you knew they were hot on our heels, so to speak, you would have queried the plan. I had faith the Fates would intervene if we just got out. I had to keep the sedation low, so I didn’t kill my human staff in the process, and sadly that meant the wolves recovered quickly.” He’s apprehensive about admitting to a lie, recoiling slightly, and I give him a deflated smile, translating that it’s okay and it doesn’t make much difference now because it is what it is.
“Damn right, it’s Deacon. Meadow and the pack are tracing them down the north road, following them. They’ll be here in a couple of minutes.” Colton growls and sweeps past me, determination oozing from him and that growing hostility coming off like dense smoke. He’s moving into battle mode in his head, and I can’t do much except follow him out of the infirmary. I should be out there for this entourage to arrive. After all, it’s because of me and Sierra they are even coming. “You should stay here.” Colton flashes me a moody look, fierce, overbearing protectiveness shining through, and gets my ‘hell no’ glare of warning flashed right back.
I’m not about to sit in the corner and be cotton-wrapped because Colton thinks he needs to take care of a feeble petite femme. This femme took down a bear; she will not be intimidated by that idiot Deacon.
“That son of a bitch darted me in the back. I’m not missing him crawling up and realizing this is a Santo domain! I want to experience that epiphany and watch him grovel.” It’s through gritted teeth as my aggression flares, thinking about that smug asshole’s face and the longing to kick him in the balls when I was in the facility. That slight simmer of rage ignites, and my skin tingles in anticipation, revving up my anger for that slimy weasel.
“You stay on my ass. Stay close where I can intervene should I need to.” Colton drops that overbearing, no-nonsense command, and turns away, obviously picking up on my stubborn tone and knowing arguing with me is futile. He still has to be in charge of my safety, though.
He leads the way immediately, straight out into the hallway, through the foyer, and out the open main door at hyper-speed. Other wolves either get out of the way or turn and follow their leader as I assume he links and issues orders.
He’s eager to get out front and await our guests. His wolf is peeking in the glowing eyes and that snarl in his tone, but he keeps it in check and stays primarily human. Rolling his shoulders and leaning forward slightly so that stance of psycho comes through prominently when we come to a halt at the gravel driveway that spans the whole front width of the homestead.
Wolves tend to hunch forward and look at you with a tilted chin. It’s usually because we prefer to go to all fours as wolves, even though we can walk upright, and Colton seems caught between the two. Stance and lowered head as his eyes glow viciously and his words take on that dominant growl in the undertones. He isn’t planning on turning, but he intends to intimidate the shit out of Deacon. I can sense his actions and read him way better than I used to. I wonder if our wolves are synching a little because of the closeness of how we got in the infirmary, or maybe I’m just getting better at dissecting the mood and picking out who belongs to who.
He leads us out across the cleared sweeping gravel drive. All the vehicles are gone, and I can see how massive the forefront of the homestead’s entry is. Without the wolves flanking and taking us in without seeing it, I can appreciate the wide, vast space, treelined with dense forest, and only one narrow opening coming northbound. Colton was right about this being smaller than the manor at the mountain, but it’s still pretty impressive.
The headlights flash in the far distance through that gap in the trees, and I realize it’s because the road is straight and long, and standing here, we can see it for a couple of miles. Being dark means seeing the flickering lights moving in on us, like incoming orbs bouncing around on uneven gravel terrain.
“Two trucks. Radar can pick out heat signatures of twelve wolves between the two,” Colton murmurs at me as if Radar being able to do that isn’t a surprise, and now his name makes perfect sense. He can see body heat through objects and infrared sight.
Something slight catches my eye, distracting me from this wonder, just past him as I look his way. Adjusting my nocturnal vision, I realize Santo wolves move in from the tree line stealthily and stand out around us in the shadows. Watching, waiting, prepping to be there should their Alpha need them, I again hate that I’m not linked in and hearing the communications between them all. Obviously, by the silent way they get in position and nod at one another, there’s a line of chatter getting them where needed. They’re preparing for battle because they don’t know how things will play out.
“Doc said there were nineteen wolves at the facility, so I’m guessing he left a few behind to keep the humans in check,” I add as an afterthought, sticking close to him as a few warm bodies close up behind us, wolves I don’t know well, but we’re being flanked by more than a dozen anyway. I wonder where the sub-pack is.
Colton paces, side to side. Adrenaline and hostility are so high he’s even affecting me, and my body vibrates lightly. Watching the oncoming truck bristling with fierceness, all I can do is watch and wait with bated breath. Nervousness hitching up because I don’t know how this will go, and even though we outnumber them, I’m still not a wolf who’s ever had to battle another wolf like this. Colton doesn’t count that one time he triggered me, and I can’t even remember it happening. Even while still crazily angry at Deacon, I feel nauseous and start wringing my hands together to calm my stupid nerves.
Colton walks six feet to the left, turns, and walks it back again, like a caged animal, and I can taste his impatience in wanting to deal with this. He’s stiff and solid, ready to pounce, and I can taste the nearness of his wolf as he’s on the edge of turning. It’s like a high-level energy feeding mine, and my inner wolf wriggles around with a need to show face.
He’s in full-blown aggression mode, his Alpha scent getting so heady that my wolf snarls in response, and I have to take a deep breath and count to ten to keep her tamed. He’s riling the pack, and the murmur of restless snarls around me tells me they’re all poised and ready to fight, feeding on their leader’s need to attack. The psychic bond of a pack, so that when their Alpha hits a battle, they all rev up and flock to him, ready to die for the good of the pack. It’s becoming unbearable and invasive, as it shrouds like dark smog around us, and I can hardly breathe with the impending pressure.
I touch him on the shoulder to break his intense focus on the incoming as he paces past me for the tenth time and he pauses, spinning his head to me away from the road. His reaction is like I jolted him with a Taser because he was caught up in his instincts and senses.
“Deacon’s a coward and no match for us. Be still. You’re making the pack restless and bloodthirsty.” I try to soothe him with a slight squeeze. Colton inhales slowly but reaches out and runs his thumb over my bottom lip gently, igniting a crazy number of butterflies in my stomach with the simplest of touches as he focuses those glowing eyes on mine.
“He laid his hands on you. Kept my mom prisoner. I don’t care if he refuses to fight or runs; I’ll take him down.” The vicious, lethal, protective side is coming out, and I can only give him a soft look. I can’t argue when he’s fueled by instinct and rage. I can only let him be and let him handle this his way.
“Many of these wolves have never known battle. Think of the vulnerable among us. We want them to feel safe here, not traumatized by a war on the doorstep. Be a leader. Put vengeance aside for the good of those. There are children here.” I remind him gently, and it has the same effect as a calming wave washing over him. It’s enough to level down the rage, and he exhales heavily to release some of his tension, knowing I’m right. He nods, releasing me and turning away to watch the road once more, but I can already tell he’s reeled in so much of his testosterone already. My words are having an effect.
The wolf hierarchy is not that complex, and wolves have certain traits you just have to accept. One is that a male is deathly aggressive, possessive, and protective of his mate, even if they’re imprinted, but she isn’t technically his. The need is the same. To be honest, Colton’s an Alpha, which means his protective instincts are enhanced naturally, at about five hundred percent higher than most. The good of the entire pack, putting his people above all else, is a born Alpha trait, and it’s crazily hitched up to about a thousand times more intense once a dominant takes on his role as leader. So, that fuels Colton. I can see it in him, making him antsy, interwoven with turmoil and rage. I’m not just his fated mate; in his head, I’m part of his pack too, and Deacon disrespected me. He also disrespected the Luna. Colton’s loyalty to his mom is as strong as his love for her, for me. As Alpha, he wants to reset the balance, to deal with the insult and offense dealt this way.
The headlights pull my eyes from Colton to them as they flash violently, swinging around into the car park as they trundle in and catch us all standing here waiting. The low humming of two big green military trucks that I recognize from the bay. Both have tented backs and seem so much bigger out here in the dark.
The first truck veers left, skids to a halt, obviously not expecting the welcoming party out front, and maneuvers an emergency divert. The second one slams on the breaks immediately, sliding on the gravel an extra few feet, and stops dead in the entranceway, blocking it off in a mist of scrambled dust.
There’s a moment of pause as no one moves, and the sound of the humming trucks is the only noise ringing heavily through the eerie quiet. The distant whoop, whoop of wolves coming from behind alert the presence of our sub pack returning behind them, and they seem to be in joyful spirits at trapping these bugs in their web from all sides. It’s as though everyone holds their breath and waits for someone else to make the first move, and Colton becomes stealthily still, wholly trained on the first truck as he homes in on the driver’s seat through the side mirror.
His low growl vibrates through my stomach.
It’s Deacon. I can smell him.
He surprises me with the low, husky hostility in our link, and I blink, stomach-turning itself in knots as I realize what he just said. I'm trying to ignore the tone of a killer in his undercurrent because I know Colton is a seasoned warrior, and I’m about to see it for a second time.
How do you know what Deacon smells like?
I blanch, looking from Colton to the truck and trying to figure out how we would know that unless he knew him. He couldn’t have gotten the scent from my projected memories. Deacon is a Santo, but if he’s been at the facility for years, I assumed Colton would have been a boy and not known him. Deacon is older by maybe ten years, and I don’t recall pulling him from any of his memories, but I haven’t looked.
That asshole and his pack snuck off into God knows where after his father died, but I know him. He tried to take me down in front of his pack when I was a kid to exert his dominance and humiliate me. I handed him his ass. I hate that motherfucker with a passion. Knowing that it’s his pack that held my mom and now comes after you both, I swear I will rip him limb from limb.
I swallow hard, eyes widening, and gulp back a slight tremor of ‘oh shit’ now that I realize this is more than Colton being pissed on behalf of his mother and me and Colton thinking about diffusing things. It’s also about already hating the idiot who followed us here. His rage revs up and surges through me, and I know I need to settle him once more.
We have young here; we have pregnant women and elderly wolves. We have families, and a hundred windows face this way. We need to shield them from the horrors and instill that this place is a sanctuary. I have to calm Colton and push this fight outside our boundaries, away from watching eyes. I don’t want him to rile the extended pack and rip a dozen wolves to shreds here like this, even if it is Deacon.
Someone opens the truck door and slides out, dressed in dark clothes, and I recognize the tall, cocky swagger right away. That air of asshole he wears so well. Deacon looks around, noting all the wolves scattered in a circle surrounding him, and then locks eyes on Colton as he seeks out who he should interact with and seems to sag visibly. He obviously remembers Colton well.
It’s in his body language and the death of confidence. He hesitates and then walks toward us with his hands raised as a sign of submission. Colton stands taller, lifting his head, and seems to grow a few inches as he locks him with a penetrating glare. Colton moves in front of me instinctively, sidestepping and pushing me back with a hand slid across my abdomen firmly. I can tell it’s a protective move, instinctual, and I can’t be mad about it when it’s a purely automatic response to an incoming threat.
Deacon’s pack slides out of the two trucks, looks around them, and stands back in their vehicles' circle. I can see the hesitant and questioning looks they throw between one another as they recognize certain members, and it’s obvious they didn’t know they’d followed my tracks to a Santo lair. They stay put and look towards Deacon for direction, showing zero signs of hostility now they see us.
“I’m only doing what I’m told, Colton. I didn’t come here to fight. I didn’t even know you’d broken off and had a Santo sect here. I just need to take my patient and my prisoner back. Your father was very clear about that.” Deacon isn’t so smug now; I can taste his nervousness and smell his fear in the air as he closes the gap and comes within four feet. I’m sure the second he realized he was rolling into Santo space, he shit his pants and had a moment of ‘what the fuck is going on?’. I move around Colton a little to aim a nasty glare at Deacon’s smug head and catch his eye flicker as he notices me and looks back at my Alpha.
Colton snorts in response to what he said. His body bristling with a pulsing desire to rip at Deacon, and I impulsively lay a hand flat on his back, a reminder to stay calm. I can feel it oozing my way, his emotions enraging mine, and that insane desire to turn and bite the asshole in the face. I have to inhale deeply, breathe, and count to ten to make it pass, willing Colton to draw some of this settling energy from me.
“Prisoner? Patient? Do you mean my mom and my femme? Pretty sure you can’t be talking about walking in here uninvited and thinking I will stand back and let you touch either of them.” Colton steps to him and closes the gap completely, aggression pulsating, and stands nose to nose with Deacon. He’s taller than him by only an inch, but he seems more dominant as Deacon hesitates but stands his ground. After all, he is a pack leader, and his own are watching him closely, so he needs to curb the weakness to keep face. Colton is growling, so low it’s reverberating through me, and my wolf is getting all kinds of excited. I try extra hard to pat her down and tell her off.
It’s the weirdest thing, but seeing and feeling him this way makes me crazy hot, and I curse my damn hormones and that damned haze moving in on me. My wolf wants to play with him in many dirty ways, she’s just torn between ripping Deacon’s head off or stripping Colton naked for his show of fierceness, and I have to work twice as hard to restrain those urges. She’s all swooning and needy at a time when she needs to shut up and be still.
“Your father won’t care. I’m just doing what I’m told. He won’t like this one bit. Just take it up with him when we leave and deal with him yourself.” Deacon doesn’t seem to get the memo, and it dawns on me that much like I didn’t know, he doesn’t either. Colton is his rightful Alpha, and just by questioning him, he’s breaking all kinds of rules and respect.
He’s oblivious to the pack split, and to him, this is Colton setting off on his own to start a separate sect while still under his father’s order. It happens when males who are next in line become impatient for dominance; they can set up camp somewhere else with those willing to follow. Big packs like the Santos dominate entire regions because of previous generations splitting and setting up across the land to ensure challenges and disputes don’t arise when young males get too big for their boots. There’s always only one head Alpha, though, and Deacon assumes it’s still Juan.
“My father is not the Alpha anymore! I am! Now back the fuck up and listen to me because this is how it’s going to go.” Colton snaps at him, making Deacon flinch with the intense crazy that came through with that response, and he wilts slightly. Colton was right. Deacon is a coward, and when he doesn’t have a dart gun and a facility keeping wolf gifts at bay, or thick Plexiglas prisons, he’s just a weak omega who is the lowest of our pack.
“Juan is my Alpha. I don’t know what makes you think otherwise, and for all I know, you could be lying.” Deacon truly is an idiot of epic proportions, and, much to my surprise, Colton doesn’t punch him in the face but laughs instead. There is a deranged, yet somehow boyish, noise, and he raises his head and looks at the trucks behind Deacon’s head.
“Do you hear that, Meds? I must be lying!” Colton’s eyes are on the vehicles, and I squint to see where he can see her. I can’t. I can smell the sub pack on the wind, blowing this way gently, but there’s nothing but shadows and darkness beyond the lit area we’re standing in.
“I guess we witnessed a mirage then, huh?” Meadow appears on the roof of the first truck, coming out of the shadows and strutting across the thick solid canvas of the covering like a supermodel. Hand on her hip as she glares this way, and the sub pack emerges creepily too. Some around the sides of the trucks, pouring in like beetles and scaring Deacon’s pack half to death with their sudden appearance. Cesar appears behind Meadow, while Mateo appears on the roof of the other one. Ninja stealth and almost magical appearances. They know how to spread out and look like there are more of them. They have a force that’s hard to miss.
“Let me have this one; he’s cute, and I want to play with him!” Jesús slides up behind one of the men, slightly further out from the rest. He jumps a mile high, growls at Jesús, and then runs to his pack to avoid the taunting smirk and kissing motions. The twins chuckle as they round on them, making more sexy winks and kissing motions, cooing naughtily. They’re humiliating them while standing casually. Languishing like they’re hanging out in a field waiting for a sports tournament to begin—no hint of fear, wariness, or even rage. Just taunting confidence of a pack that knows, as a unit, they’re fierce.
“I don’t think you’re his type. He likes the soft, submissive femmes so that he can feel all man about it.” Radar pokes fun at the member trying to cower behind his pack, and Colton grins at the hilarity of his very intimidating fellows. Obviously, he’s used to this kind of response when they encounter an enemy, and he doesn’t seem fazed by it. It now makes sense who was whooping and making a noise upon arriving as though heading to a party. They’re comical in a terrifying, psychotic way, and you can tell every one of them has tasted blood on a battlefield. You only get that kind of bold scariness from experience.
The jokes and presence of his subs seem to have calmed Colton down considerably, and I can sense the waves of fury ebbing away as he realizes this pack isn’t worth it. Not one of them is trying to enforce a fight, and Deacon seems to be trying to diffuse rather than entice despite his eyes faintly glowing. They’re what I thought when I met them, omega cowards, and they’re not even worthy enough to fight them.
“You don’t want to battle; that’s fine by me. My people don’t need bloodshed on their doorstep. We have children here, but you’re not leaving with either of these women without going through me, so maybe you should turn around, tuck your tail back up your ass where it belongs, and tell my daddy I said to go fuck himself. That I know everything. He’ll know what you mean. Maybe on the drive back to the mountain, you and your crew should evaluate which side of the Santo pack you’re going to run with from here on in because the future doesn’t look pretty if it’s his.” Snarling in his face, returning to intimidation and no hint of hesitation or nervousness. Colton is about an inch away from pissing on Deacon and marking his territory. His overwhelming hostility has the other wolf crumbling.
Colton doesn’t sound like Colton. He sounds like a man, not a boy. I'm seeing him in a new light, a confident leader who is highly accomplished at handling people like Deacon. I’ve never had to come head-to-head with fierce Colton or seen his natural aggression beyond the orphanage, and I wonder what his taking his father down looked like. I can’t lie; my inner wolf likes it, and I’m almost drooling over him at the moment. My insides all churned up, and I have to step back and take a few deep breaths to calm the raging hormones once more. The Fates picked the right male to match me to. I couldn’t want him more than at this moment. His dominance turns me on.
“I ... umm. He’ll kill us if we don’t take … umm… I don’t know what went down, but I’ll have to see for myself what Juan says about this.” Deacon is at a loss for words, and I can feel every ounce of his bravado slipping away. He visibly swallows as he realizes he just questioned his possible leader, and I swear he almost sits on the ground the way his legs seem to twitch momentarily.
“I’ll kill you if you touch her. So, there’s that.” Colton reiterates with a head nod and shrugs. I shake my head at Deacon, disgusted with the weakness I see before me and smothered in confidence as my temper ignites.
“Not so tough when you don’t have me disabled and stuck alone in a glass room, are you?” I snarl, moving out entirely behind Colton, half expecting him to hush me and send me back, but he doesn’t. He turns to me slightly, catches my eyes with his glowing amber ones, and then slides aside to encourage me to come closer. I guess because he knows Deacon is no real threat to me. He relaxes a little, and like a wild wolf would encourage his mate to take part in a hunt or teach her, he urges me to him. He just let his subs berate theirs, so I guess it’s my turn. My wolf ignites at the invitation, eyes burning in my skull, and I know they must be glowing as red as Colton’s are amber with the tension in the air.
“What the fuck?” Deacon almost trips backward as he scrambles a step away and locks an alarmed pair of human eyes on mine. Shocked at what he sees.
“Miss those pretties, huh? I guess probably because you were busy shooting her in the back!” Colton teases cruelly, pulling me with a hand on my upper arm and sliding me in front, so I’m between him and Deacon. Getting me close even though he wants me to stand up to this asshat, but he needs to know he’s also keeping me safe.
“What the hell is wrong with her eyes?” Deacon can’t conceal his fear, and this time he trips trying to get away and lands on his ass. He is scrambling as he thuds with a soft noise and tries to reel backward away from me.
“Nothing. I think they're sexy. However, it does mean you had a lucky escape. Had my Princesa here not been more concerned about getting the fuck away from you, she could have taken down your entire team with minimal effort. Maybe I should let her rebalance the scales if you think you can take her.” Colton slides his hand up my back and moves in next to me, so we’re hip to hip, lazily lassoing his arm around my shoulders, so it hangs casually, and adopts that teenage boy pose of a guy taking the piss out of someone he deems inferior. Deacon hesitates. I can see the questions forming in his head as he looks from Colton to me and back and scrambles to his feet, backing away. It’s obvious he’s rattled, and he keeps gawping at me and then back at his pack as though they’re linking. I see the unease as they look at one another and shrink closer to the vehicles, our sub pack moving in and not giving them an inch.
“Why don’t we make it fun? If he can take you, his pack gets to leave. If he can’t, well … we kill them.” Colton turns to me with a dark expression, a wry smile, his words making the blood in my veins run cold, but his mind-link kicks in immediately.
I won’t ever let anyone hurt you; he’ll not take that offer, so relax. He’s about ready to run. I’m not going to kill anyone. I’m just messing with him, baby, because it’s fun.
Colton is doing what a mate should do. Teach, guide, and instill confidence in his femme, and I can feel him encouraging me to take back my power from Deacon. It ignites a fire in me that pulses through my bones, muscles, and nerve endings, and I can almost taste that thin veil coming at me without trying. Maybe it’s the inner rage I felt from the second this asshole pulled up, or perhaps it’s having Colton by my side coaxing me, encouraging softly, being what I need, yet knowing it can never be that’s churning me up and empowering me insanely.
“I’m not in the mood for shredding my clothes, so how about … if he can get to his truck before I get to him, I forget all about it. He can go, and we’re done.” I raise a brow, sarcasm oozing from every pore, and Colton smiles, looking at our prey. He knows I will make Deacon run back to his truck like a coward and humiliate him in front of everyone without even attempting to follow. I understand why his subs like teasing and tormenting; it gives me a real power kick.
“I’m not against you shooting him in the back, baby. An eye for an eye.” He leans in and kisses me on the temple, lingering a moment as Deacon continues glancing from him to me and back again. Deacon pales visibly and starts to stammer and stutter. Raising his hands and looks about poised to go running away, tripping over his own feet and falling epically to his knees in front of everyone. Colton breaks into a laugh and completely ruins it. That proper hearty break of mood, as he lets out that youthful, entertained, sweet melody of husky beauty.
“I’m sorry, I can’t … it’s too funny. Fuck off, Deacon. None of you are welcome here. This is where my mom and my femme stay, and if we see you here again, I’ll happily rip your throat out. Take that as a friendly warning and tell my father whatever the fuck you want. Just leave!” Colton doesn’t waste for an answer; he slides his arm from me and turns, pushing his hand into mine to get me to follow him back to the manor and leave this idiot to get chased out by the subs. Colton is doing what I asked and ensuring we do not expose the vulnerable to gruesome violence. He’s leaving before he does something stupid to these idiots.
I’m slower to turn and catch Deacon’s eyes ignite from the corner of my eye. His left-hand claws up with sharp knife-like talons as he lets that part of him turn before he lurches to his feet, extending his hand, and aims right for the back of Colton’s skull. Right at a wolf’s skull, it’s a death stroke with enough force, and I impulsively yell out.
I throw my hand out to stop him, aiming right for that son of a bitch in an impulsive reaction, with my palm stretched towards him. To shield my love, to save him from harm. Pure instinct is taking over with the way my heart leaps into my mouth, and my whole body pauses in shock and disbelief, my veins running cold.
I need to protect my fated mate at all costs, and I don’t think or hesitate. Colton is my soul mate and half of me, and I won’t let that piece of shit Deacon take a stab at his back and end him in such a cowardly way.
Much like watching a wet baseball thrown hard, losing its water content and spewing traces in the air as it hurls at speed, I send something like a transparent orb at him from my splayed hand. It travels fast and straight, slowing down time and space, so I see it happening almost in slow motion. It hits him right in the chest with so much force it makes an echoing thud that reverberates around the clearing. It has a similar effect to that of the bear, only with less velocity and rage behind it, more shock, more focus, and a reaction more than anything. Deacon goes from jumping towards Colton with intent to being rammed harshly in the chest by my orb and thrown a few feet behind him into the side of the vehicle. He comes to a shuddering halt as his body slams it and dents it like I just canon-balled it with a steel boulder.
He stops dead, groaning in pain, the air silencing around us as he slides down the side of the truck, winded, gasping for air, and in utter shock as his pack cowers around, watching this show of force. The air sizzles around us as everyone who just witnessed it stares in utter disbelief—shocked.
“Well, that’s a gift.” Meadow’s voice floats my way, breaking the silence and the tension as I inhale and look around to see most eyes are on me. It’s only now I realize she’s only seven feet away to my left; she must have leaped to come to the defense of Colton too, and her eyes are glowing amber, ready to take down that son of a bitch had he struck her Alpha.
Deacon’s pack wastes no time running, dragging Deacon with them back into the two trucks and speedily getting off the ground. Soon as they do, the trucks rev into life and back out at speed, gravel spraying all around us in dramatic fashion at their fast and furious exit while Colton turns to me and catches me off guard.
He picks me up, hauling me up in a sweep of weightlessness, grinning at me proudly, and hooks my legs around my waist as he does so, pulling me down and kissing me right on the lips as he yanks my body into his. I have no time to react, pulled in and held tight as his warm lips press to mine and take my breath away completely. I hate that his kiss is still familiar, ignites feelings inside, inviting, like finding my way home, and I have to stop myself from leaning in and letting him continue.
“That’s my girl. Warrior queen protecting her man. Thank you, baby.” He moves his face back, so we’re no longer close enough to do it again, causing a little wave of disappointment that I chastise myself for. My cheeks flushed with heat and embarrassment that he kissed me in front of everyone. So breathless from his unexpected attention and aware that every wolf out here is looking at us. I shouldn’t untangle and get him to put me down while his pack watches us. It’ll make it uncomfortable for him.
It’s disrespectful to humiliate the Alpha. Instead, I slide my hands around his neck to steady myself in this pretty weird position I find myself in, aware this is inappropriate for a marked wolf, yet I allow him to carry me like this. I am aware I still don’t see any sign of Carmen, and I’m sure I would have heard her if she had seen this. No way she wouldn’t be screeching me to deafness if she’s around. His hands are now under my ass to keep me lifted as he turns me around to the approaching sub pack like this is perfectly natural for him to carry me this way. They swarm in around us.
“What was that exactly?” Cesar comes out first as Colton bounces me a little and smiles boyishly. He’s overcome with weird, joyful energy and a strong sense of pride that suffocates me as his emotions drown mine out.
“That was Lorey and part of what she is capable of doing. Telekinesis possibly. I think she might be an Empath, too. Christ, that was impressive as fuck.” He spins me, and I get a little jiggle before he slides me down to the ground onto my feet and tugs me in against him, lassoed by that arm once more and held lazily. I don’t know how to feel about it, as everything rushed me at once, and it was impulsive. The reaction, seeing what I did again, and then this. I have to stop and let my brain catch up to his words.
“What?” I turn to him and gawp, eyes widening at him—so many questions about where he just pulled that from.
“The Shaman knows a lot about this shit, and it’s common in vampires, apparently. Absorption is her wolf, and this it’s the other half. Alora is a hybrid of the two. I am too; only my mom’s a witch.” Colton’s voice drops as he says it, and I swear, the entire area falls deathly silent, unbearably so, as the entire sub pack and those beyond who heard him stare at us with open mouths of disbelief. He just outed us for the whole pack to hear, and those who didn’t will know soon enough as gossip spreads through the link. Colton clearly doesn’t want secrets the way his father did for years.
“Like us?” Remi finally butts in, breaking the tension, and I stand stock still, my heart beating through my chest at the fact he’s going to tell them everything now. I was so not prepared for this. My body turns icy cold as fear overtakes me, my lungs almost shrivel up, and I sag a little to cower in his arms as they all move in on us; a sea of faces, endless questioning looks. Colton seems completely serious, but I can feel his hesitation in what he’s doing. That ingrained fear his family bonded pack will reject us and send us into exile, or worse. A pack has a right to kill intruders or any they deem a threat, and I guess I’m definitely in that category.
“Kind of. I think you need to let me bond project to see what Alora and I know.” Colton looks around them, and I hold my breath. Waiting, poised, but none of the sub-pack seems to have any dramatic reaction. There’s confusion, a couple of questioning glances between them, but overall, they just nod. I didn’t know packs could project to one another as a group, but it makes sense. If you make a chain and pass memory to memory. I just thought it was something only imprinted or mated could do.
Meadow turns and stares out at the wolves in the clearing. I can tell she’s linking. Within seconds, they all turn tail and head back to wherever they came from, clearing the area and giving us space and quiet. They heard, and I don’t doubt they will get answers after the sub pack gets them. Our secrets, who we are, Juan’s complete lie in life, are about to become public knowledge, and I couldn’t be any more terrified. No more secrets within this pack, no more hiding what I am. What we are.
Meadow steps up first and lifts Colton’s hand to her temple, adding mine to the other side of her face, and smiles encouragingly. So much faith and love in that one slight nod.
“We’re your pack; show us the truth. It won’t change a thing about what we are to you.”