Fate Revealed, page 8
“The felvair,” he gritted out.
“She’s not just a resource.”
“What else is she?”
Rhett bit his tongue, knowing that his eyes would be slipping in color. There was just too much temptation in a room like this. As he was turning to leave, Marcus added, “He should have been killed at birth with that defect of his, Antain. What if he passes on those genes to the next generation?”
“No self-respecting female would ever take him as a mate. Besides, we have taken care of that already,” Sabel said with a sneer.
Rhett’s balls tightened at the tone, his body remembering exactly how they’d taken care of that particular problem. They’d given him a vasectomy against his will. For the good of the pack, they’d said. His uncle couldn’t even help him. With the threat of death hanging over his head, there were rules and they had to be followed: expulsion from the pack and certain death, or the snip. What a fucking joke. Rhett’s anger and resentment rolled and writhed in his mind, and he did nothing to stop it.
Marcus stood up. “This isn’t over,” he threatened, staring hard at Rhett. When Rhett did nothing in response, Marcus growled softly under his breath and stalked from the room, his two wolves following.
TEN
Rhett’s head was pounding with the rush of adrenalin. Sweat beaded on his brow, rolling down the side of his face and dripping off his chin. Imperfect imprints of his bloody fists covered the punching bag he was pounding into as he visualized Marcus’s and Sabel’s faces in the leather. Left jab, right straight, left hook, duck. He threw the same combo at the bag, hitting harder and making the chain attached to the rafter rattle.
Fucking cock-sucking Dragos wolves. Fucking Marcus.
“What’s crawled up your ass?” a voice asked from behind him. After one more punch landing on the bag, Rhett held it still—ignoring the scream of his knuckles—and turned around to stare at his best friend.
Brax was a new wolf to the pack, and by “new” he meant that he had reached maturity and moved away from his home pack to either find another or start his own. Rhett would never do that. He would never leave this farmhouse. He would never leave Buxton. And although he was strong enough to be an alpha, no wolf would pledge themselves to him.
“Nothing,” he growled, dancing back onto his toes as he landed another jab to Sabel’s imagined smug mouth. The beam above his head groaned with the weight of the bag as it rocked back and forth. The cellar, where the bag had been set up, was filled with other gym equipment—all worn from the numerous beatings constantly dished out by the pack’s enforcers. His uncle had thought that it would help to keep the males focused if they had something to do other than try and chase tail or get into fights. At the far end of the room was a small bathroom under the stairs and opposite that was a werewolf-proof cage just in case.
“That’s not what I heard,” Brax said in a sing-song voice, descending the stairs. “I heard that Marcus came to see you.”
“Marcus,” Rhett sneered, “is an asshole.”
Brax walked around to the other side of the bag to hold it steady, his gray eyes slipping to neon yellow then back again. “You’re right. He is an asshole. So what did he want?”
Rhett landed another punch, accidentally knocking Brax off balance. “Indi,” Rhett ground out, hating how his voice transformed into a growl. Brax dragged the bag out of Rhett’s reach just as he was about to strike. Rhett staggered back a step to avoid accidentally clocking his best friend in the jaw.
Brax frowned. “Indi?” he asked.
“He wants her, claims that the Seer found her in his territory.”
“Did she?”
Rhett wiped the sweat out of his eyes with the back of his hand. “Yeah, but she settled in Hell. That’s our territory.”
“What does Antain have to say about it?”
“He let me make the call.”
Brax whistled through his teeth and let go of the custom-made two hundred pound punching bag. “If you weren’t the alpha’s only remaining blood relation, you would have had no say at all, you know that?”
“I know,” Rhett replied through gritted teeth. He hated the double standard that existed in the pack. His uncle did him favors that no other wolf received, but he was also attacked because of the privilege. All the other wolves in the pack hated him, with Sabel leading the we-want-Rhett’s-head-mounted-on-a-wall fan club. His aunt, uncle and Brax were the only friends he had. He punched the bag in frustration, the chains chattering to life again.
“Soooo, what are you going to do?”
Rhett stared hard into Brax’s eyes before lashing out with a lethal ten punch combination. When he was done, he licked his lips and took a long drink from the bottle of Gatorade to get his thoughts together. What was he going to do? He was going to stick so close to Indi that she’d start thinking she had two shadows.
“I’m going to protect what’s mine.” He felt the power of his words resonate through his body, empowering the truth in them. This was what he wanted. He wanted to be her Guardian. If anyone else was doing the job, he would have thought that they weren’t working hard enough, not being vigilant enough. No, if he wanted something done right, then he was going to do it himself.
“Yeah, I know that, but how?”
“I’ll up patrols, find excuses to just drop by. I’ll work more hours at the cafe. I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure she stays safe.”
“You know that Marcus isn’t going to let this go. He wants her and he’ll do everything in his power to get her.”
“He’ll have to go through me to do it then,” Rhett said, seething because what Brax had said was absolutely true. Marcus wouldn’t just roll over and let Indi go. He would keep fighting, but so would Rhett.
“Baby batter,” Sabel called from the stairs. Rhett swung around just as Sabel stepped off the final tread.
“Fuck you, Sabel,” he snarled back.
He laughed. “You wish you could. You’re coming with me.”
“What for?”
“Grave digging duty.”
“Just put it in the incinerator,” Rhett snapped back, lifting his bloodied fists up to Brax to let him know he was going to hit the bag again. He was playing a dangerous game by giving Sabel his back, and his captain didn’t disappoint. The next time Sabel spoke, it was right in Rhett’s ear.
“Listen up fuck-cake because I’m only saying this once. Get your ass outside now.”
“The ground is frozen. You can’t dig through that.”
“I don’t fucking care. Outside now, and that’s an order,” Sabel hissed.
Brax watched Rhett’s face through the whole exchange. His eyes were slipping colors so fast it made Rhett’s stomach turn. Rhett’s rage was still pummelling his body, and the bag just wasn’t cutting it. What he really needed was a good, old-fashioned fistfight to calm him down and guess who’d just volunteered. Rhett dropped his fists and stepped away from the bag, snagging his bottle of Gatorade and his shirt from in between the bars of the cage in the corner of the room.
“You’re an asshole. Do you know that?” he said to Sabel, shouldering past him to the stairs. He stalked up them and pushed through the door, heading towards the back door of the house. The barn behind the house was already spot-lit when he walked out there. Rhett was going to enjoy this. By the time he reached the barn door, he sensed Sabel behind him.
“You insubordinate little fuck!” Rhett spun around and met Sabel—face to face, chest to chest. His wolf wanted out, raking at his sides and baring its teeth. Rhett could feel his control slipping, wanted to give into the bloodlust that was bubbling just below the surface of his skin.
“What are you going to do about it?” Rhett baited. Sabel’s forearm came across Rhett’s throat as he slammed him into the side of the barn, instantly cutting off his supply of air.
“I’ve wanted to kill you for so long, do you know that?”
Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner. “Why don’t you do it then?” Rhett managed to rasp out.
Sabel eased off Rhett’s neck. “I won’t hang for something as pathetic as you,” he replied, spitting on the ground at Rhett’s feet.
“You want a legitimate reason to have a shot at me? Fine. I challenge you for your position in the pack.” The force of pack magic rushed over them both.
Sabel’s wolf stared into Rhett’s mismatched eyes for a very long time, weighing up his options, doing the math. When the eye-fuck was finally over, he growled, “I accept.” Releasing Rhett, Sabel took a few steps backwards, giving each of them a little more room for the battle.
“Fists or fur?” Sabel demanded.
Rhett smiled sadistically, squeezing his hands into tight balls of pain. “Fists.” And it was on. Rhett landed the first blow, slamming his fist into Sabel’s jaw. The other male’s head snapped back, but his recovery was quick. Rhett landed another two jabs to his face before Sabel slugged him with a right hook.
Rhett fell and, when he was down, Sabel kicked him in the kidneys. Pain cascaded through his body, jacking up his by now impatiently pacing wolf, snarling and snapping in warning. Sabel was lining up for a kick to the face, but Rhett rolled out of it before the blow could land. He was up on his feet again, slamming his fists into Sabel’s ribs and belly. A punch to Sabel’s nose snapped his head back, blood leaking from one nostril as he leveled his gaze on Rhett. His piercing chartreuse eyes promised more pain as he wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand.
“Had enough?” Rhett asked, his voice rough from his wolf’s influence.
Sabel snarled and lunged for him again, catching him around the hips and driving him to the ground. Sabel landed punch after punch after punch, sending Rhett’s head left then right over and over again. Rhett felt his nose break and laughed maniacally, causing Sabel to pause just for a moment.
Rhett lurched to the side, taking Sabel with him. Rhett pounded him in the face until it sounded like he was hitting a side of beef. Sabel’s face was a bloody mess—barely recognizable—when Rhett crawled off him. He dragged in deep breaths, the cold air shooting down into his lungs. Testing his nose, Rhett pushed it back into place.
When he looked up, Sabel was somehow on his feet again.
“We’re not finished yet,” Sabel ground out, blood pouring from the cuts on his face.
The desire to fight was still a fire burning white-hot in Rhett’s belly. And the opportunity to piss Sabel off was just too good. “I won’t fight you.”
“We’re not done till I say we’re done!” Sabel roared, yanking Rhett up by the collar of his t-shirt. With his arm wound back, Sabel’s fingers curled into a tight ball ready to punch.
“Enough!” a new voice yelled. The rush of pins and needles on Rhett’s skin told him all he needed to know. Yet again, his uncle had come to help. “This challenge is null.”
“He challenged me. I accepted. We must finish this,” Sabel hissed, temporarily forgetting he was speaking to his alpha.
“No. We will not have dissension in the ranks after what happened tonight with Marcus. We will be seen as weak if we keep fighting among ourselves. He is simply looking for a reason to get the Seer to side with him. A pack unsettled is no place for a felvair.” He turned to Rhett. “Go inside and clean yourself up. You should go back into town to check on your charge. Sabel—in my office. Now!”
Rhett spat on the ground, barely missing Sabel’s feet, and stalked off. Sure his body felt like it’d been run over by a Mack truck, but damn it felt good.
Up in his room, he found Brax playing Xbox.
“How was grave—” Brax broke off once he got an eyeful of Rhett’s injuries. “What the hell happened to you?”
“I challenged Sabel,” he said.
“Why’d you do that for?”
“Because he’s an asshole. I just needed to fight someone and he volunteered.”
“You look like shit,” Brax commented.
“You should see the other guy,” Rhett replied, stripping off his shirt and dumping it onto the floor.
“What if he comes after you?”
“I’d like to think whatever doesn’t kill me better start running,” he said with a shrug.
ELEVEN
Indi stopped at the entrance to her building, her hand resting on the handle of the door. On the outside, she schooled her expression carefully—seeming calm and cool. But on the inside, she was barely holding on by the skin of her teeth. Last night, her sleep had been plagued by a nightmare she hadn’t had to endure for five long years. It kept playing over and over in her head until she had forced her eyes to stay open. Her body was begging her for sleep now, but there was no chance of that happening.
She pushed open the door and shivered. There was a light layer of sleet on the sidewalk. It crunched under her boots as she made her way to the cafe. Burying her face into the collar of her coat, she tried to push the memories of her dreams away, hating how debilitating they still were.
The streetlights were still on, casting speculative, one-eyed looks over her head, causing her shadow to bend and writhe under their harsh glare. The streets were empty, quiet to the point where Indi needed to hear some noise just to know she wasn’t completely alone out there. Arriving at the cafe, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her set of keys, fumbling around until she found the right one for the front door. Sliding inside, she locked the door behind her and went to the storeroom to get started on the opening-up checklist.
Jerry showed up half an hour later, his long, strawberry-blond hair still wet from his morning shower. Shucking his coat, he threw it into the store room, tied on an apron and went straight to the coffee machine. Indi didn’t want Jerry to know that the dreams were back, so she pretended everything was okay—that she hadn’t just stayed up all night watching infomercials and eating crackers just to keep her eyes open.
“Where do you want these?” someone asked. Indi looked up to find a delivery guy standing near the door.
“Just put them there,” Indi said, waving him towards the end of the counter.
When the guy was gone, Indi began cleaning the glass of the refrigerated cabinet before she loaded up the newly-delivered pastries, but as she worked, her temples began to throb. Squeezing her eyes shut tightly, Indi pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger and waited for the pounding sensation to pass. It looked like the lack of sleep had finally caught up with her.
“Are you all right, Ind?” Jerry asked.
“I’m fine,” she replied, rubbing her eyes like a death metal band had set up for practise behind her lids.
“Are you sure?”
Indi looked straight into the crashing blue waves of Jerry’s eyes. “I just didn’t sleep so well last night, so now I’ve got a headache.”
“Bad dreams again?”
She groaned inwardly. “Kind of.” More like the past coming back to haunt me.
“You want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
He gave her a little smile and rested a warm, reassuring hand on hers. “Well, if you change your mind, you know where I am.”
“Will do,” she replied.
Indi couldn’t talk to Jerry. He carried around enough guilt on her behalf already. She didn’t understand why he did though. He couldn’t have stopped anything that happened in the past, but he tried to make damn sure that her future was going to be all red roses and fucking cute kittens.
She sighed. Even if Jerry didn’t punish himself like he did, there was no way she could tell him about what happened in the cafe yesterday, and definitely nothing about what had happened last night. If he knew what Wright had done to her, what she had done to him, there would be no going back from that. His guilt would kill him.
The memories that haunted her, that haunted her every minute, swirled dangerously in her mind. They were so vivid that Indi clutched at her head again, trying to stop the memories crashing into her. When Wright had cornered her, it reminded her too much of being that helpless little girl again. Indi despised her thirteen-year-old self. She had been weak. Like a sledgehammer being slammed against her skull, she was suddenly at that backyard party again…
“Come on, Indigo. Just come and meet some of my friends quickly,” her newest foster brother said. She didn’t want to go, but she didn’t want to stay outside not knowing anyone either. She’d seen how they all stared at her like she was a piece of meat. “So will you come?” he asked again, smiling at her warmly, the light from the bonfire highlighting his attractive features.
“Fine,” Indi replied.
Evan had been so nice to her at the new school––sitting with her during lunch, walking her to and from school even though he was a senior and she was the new girl nobody wanted to talk to. She let him take her hand and lead her towards the house.
“Where are we going?” she asked, nervously shifting her eyes everywhere, checking for danger like it was going to come out from the shadows.
“I told the boys to wait for me inside.”
“Why?”
“They wanted to be close to the beer,” he smiled over his shoulder. He pulled a little harder on her hand, bringing her body closer to his as he navigated them around the living room filled with a mass of sweaty, grinding bodies.
“Where are they?” she yelled over the thumping bass of the music. She could feel it all the way through her chest.
Ducking his head down close to her ear, he said, “In there,” pointing towards the kitchen. “Are you nervous about meeting them?”
“No, not nervous,” she replied. Bringing her hand up under his arm, he curled her fingers around his bicep and smiled his million-dollar smile.
“Come on then. They really want to meet you properly.”
They walked towards the kitchen, pushing the door wide and looking inside. His huge, blue eyes scanned the space until he cursed. “They’re not here. They must be in my room. Come on.”
Indi planted her feet on the linoleum.
