Pride's Pursuit Page 10

  “Nova wanted to kill me to be with Logan,” I say and before he can stop me, I push my way into his mind, wondering if he’d go so far where Logan and I are concerned.

  I take a moment to process his thoughts, then my eyes widen, unease seeping from my every pore. “Stone,” I choke out. “You can’t just—”

  “The master should have let me and Logan finish that fight. One day we’ll have to, you know.”

  My heart pounds and I shake my head so hard, my hair flares around my face. “No. That can’t happen.”

  “We can’t have two alphas in the pack, Pride.”

  I swallow, because I know he’s right and I also know the tension between the two is escalating, and if something or someone doesn’t give soon, one of them is going to die.

  Since I can’t bring myself to think about that anymore, can’t consider how much Stone would like to remove Logan from the equation, I redirect the conversation.

  “Tonight,” I begin. “At the cabin. You have to stop reacting where I’m concerned. It’s different out here. We need to work together. It’s not about protecting one person at the cost of everyone else.” I reach for a blade of grass and my hair falls into my eyes as I run it over my lips. “What you did tonight, throwing yourself at that officer, it could have…it could have been bad in so many ways, Stone.” I pull my knees up to my chest and try to find the right words. I look everywhere and anywhere, unable to meet his eyes, unable to deal with the sadness I see on his face. “I understand why you did it, but out here things are done differently. I’m going to help guide you, help you change—”

  “Pride,” he says, cutting me off. I turn to him and he brushes my hair from my face until my eyes are uncovered…until my raw feelings are exposed. His glance isn’t apologetic when he says, “I don’t want to change.”

  I open my mouth to voice an argument, but stop when he jumps to his feet. “This is who I am,” he hurries out, and I see a flash of possessiveness on his face as he begins to pace. “All I want to do is protect you.” He stops abruptly, adjusts his footing and grabs my hands to haul me to my feet. When my body collides with his, he stands over me. Silence ensues as he looks at me with dark eyes that reveal his every emotion.

  He finally breaks the quiet by saying, “It’s all I ever wanted.” He touches a strand of my hair, and I suck in air when his warm knuckles brush along my face. “Is that so wrong, Pride?”

  As I weigh his words carefully, my anger melts and I swallow hard. Life’s events have shaped him into who he is and how he reacts, and while I know his thoughts and actions aren’t really wrong, I also know they’re not quite right either. But how is any of that his fault?

  He moves inside my head, the connection between us tremendous as he pulls me impossibly closer, his hands crushing my hair. “Pride,” he whispers. “All I want to do is take care of you.”

  A low moan that sounds more wolf than girl ripples in my throat. I struggle to keep myself together when I say, “And that’s the problem Stone.”

  “Why?” he asks. “Why is that so wrong?”

  “Because our world is changing and we’re part of a bigger picture. We all have to take care of each other. You’re wearing blinders when it comes to me and I’m afraid your tunnel vision is going to get you, or someone else, killed.”

  The dark shadows under his eyes deepen and he makes a deep animal sound full of need when he counters with, “If I have to die, then I’d gladly die for you.”

  “You don’t have to die. I don’t want you to die.” I lower my eyes and emotions fracture my voice when I admit out loud, “I…I couldn’t handle it if anything happened to you.”

  I listen to his sharp intake of air. “Nothing is going to happen to me.”

  “It will if you don’t stop doing stupid things.” I close my eyes against the flood of emotions and pound on his chest. Stone grabs my fist to stop me, and what he does next has a sob rising in my throat.

  “Everything I do is to protect you.” He holds my hand over his heart, and the intensity on his face is almost frightening when he says, “Because this belongs to you, Pride. It always has and always will.”

  “Stone—”

  “Let’s go.”

  “Go? What are you talking about?” I ask, confused by the abrupt change in conversation.

  “Over there.” He gestures with his chin toward the hills behind us and takes my other hand in his as he transfers his thoughts to mine. “Me and you. Right now. Let’s get out of here.”

  I give a fierce shake of my head, and inch back, wondering if anything I just said actually registered with him. Rooting my feet, I answer with, “You know I can’t do that. I can’t turn my back on these wolves.”

  His eyes cloud, and his look is wounded. “You know I’d never ask you to do that. I’m only asking you to run with me. Tonight. Let’s free our wolves from their leashes.” He steps back into my personal space and pulls me closer until my body is smashed against his. He tangles his hands through my hair and dips his chin, his eyes are full of possession as tenderness steals over him. “Let me prove to you that you belong with me. That we belong together.”

  I feel the tension rising in him and before I realize what he’s doing, his lips close over mine. He kisses me with such savagery it occurs to me just how lost he is.

  “Please, Pride,” he whispers into my mouth, his voice playing down my spine as he draws me in to a place where emotions rule.

  My heart leaps and my wolf wails, because I know what he’s asking. What he wants our fated wolves to do. I open my mouth to speak, but have no idea what it is I want to say.

  He runs his hands along my back and an unexpected curl of heat wraps around me. I wail, because I know what’s causing my blood to burn, my skin to come alive. My wolf is programmed to seek her destined mate, but how can I possibly give Stone what he’s asking for when I’ve already offered myself to another.

  I feel him inside my head once again, attempting to probe. I block him and stumble to speak, but before I can get any words out, Stone’s shoulders square and his entire body stiffens like he’s preparing for a fight.

  My mouth slams shut and when he looks past my shoulders, I turn to follow his gaze, fully expecting to see Logan. I spot movement in the shadows and when I catch a foul scent in the breeze, I instantly know who has invaded our privacy.

  Footsteps fall mutely as my father comes closer, and I don’t need the artificial floodlights scanning the area to see the dark torment on his face.

  “We’ve been searching for you. You need to come inside,” he says, and I stiffen, the worry I hear in his voice triggering a reaction from my wolf.

  I brace myself. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s Sandy. She needs your help.”

  “Sandy?”

  I exchange a quick look with Stone then hurry past my father, ribbons of fear trickling through my blood. I know she insisted on accompanying us to Lewis Lake, but I never should have agreed.

  “Where is she?” I call over my shoulder.

  “She’s in her room.”

  I take the steps two at a time and burst through the door to Sandy’s room. The first thing I notice is the scent of blood. It’s so strong, the coppery tang saturates the air and settles on the back of my tongue. I swallow hard and try not to gag as I take in the scene before me.

  Perched on the bed, I see Logan talking to Sandy, his voice is low, soothing. Gem turns my way. Her face is full of anger and grief. Without speaking, she steps around me carrying an armload of blood soaked towels.

  My stomach cramps, and my hand closes over my mouth to stifle a gasp.

  “She’s taken pills. She found them in my medicine cabinet,” my father whispers in my ear as he and Stone step into the room behind me. “The bottle is empty. She must have taken at least twenty.”

  “What kind of pills?” I ask and shoot him a glance.

  His lips are pinched tight, and the white lines circling his mouth are a clear indication th
at whatever she ingested could very well be the end of her.

  “Acetaminophen,” he finally says.

  I try to keep the panic at bay as I think back to my lessons with Ms. Kara. She taught me all about the deadly side effects of acetaminophen. If a cat or dog ingests too much, it can become toxic. Except wolves aren’t dogs and we have regenerative abilities. At least mature wolves do, which has my mind racing to Sandy’s baby. They could never withstand such huge amounts of poison. Sandy knows that every bit as much as I do. As I consider that, it becomes achingly apparent that she knew what she was doing, that her action had been on purpose.

  I fight down my rising hysteria and draw a breath to center myself, but there is nothing I can do to keep guilt from eating at me. I should have paid closer attention to her. I should have been more aware.

  I step up to the bed and the cushy mattress sinks a little as I sit down next to her.

  “Sandy,” I say gently and brush her damp bangs from her forehead. I squeeze her other hand, a silent apology for all the things that are happening to her. For all the things that happened back at the compound.

  For all the things I couldn’t stop from happening.

  Frustration and helplessness hit at the same time and it takes all my effort to keep my voice level when I ask, “How are you feeling?”

  With uncoordinated movements, she clutches the mattress and her fingers curl into the sheets beneath her. That’s when I see how swollen her face is, how her actions are stiff, clumsy.

  “Is it gone?” she asks, and I don’t miss the note of desperation in her voice.

  I brush tiny beads of moisture from her face, and as she stares at me, her eyes wild, delirious, I know the toxins have yet to push their way through her body. I turn to see Stone and think about the way he once helped me fight the poison in my body. By angering me.

  Knowing that isn’t the solution for her, I think back to my lesson. “She needs hydrogen peroxide.” I have no idea if it will actually help nullify the effects, but I know anger is the last thing she needs to be feeling right now. Stone gives a nod then exchanges words with my father before he disappears into the hall.

  “Is it gone?” she asks again around a thick tongue.

  “Yes,” I say, my glance going back to Logan’s and I watch the muscles along his chin clench as his jawbone seesaws from side to side. “It’s gone.” After Logan gives me a pained frown, I ask, “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

  “He’s out there. I know it. I can feel him.”

  I don’t have to ask to know who she’s afraid of most. “He’s not out there, Sandy,” I say and continue to smooth her hair from her face. “We’ve been over this. The panthers took care of him.”

  “No. You’re wrong,” she rushes out, her body shaking, her head tossing back and forth almost frantically. “I can feel him.”

  Logan and I exchange a worried look, and I adjust my position on the mattress to lean closer. I capture her head between my palms to still her and try to get her to focus her thoughts.

  “How can you feel him?” I ask, my stomach turning because I’m suddenly not sure I want to hear the answer.

  “Because…because of our connection,” she admits, and looks down almost sheepishly.

  Hearing that one word has my world tilting on its axis, and I feel a desperate sort of anger inside me. My hands slip from her face, and while I’m afraid I already know the answer to my next question, I know I still have to ask it. I need to hear her say it.

  I capture her shoulders and try to sound more in control than I feel. “What kind of connection, Sandy?”

  She blinks up at me and her words are slow when she says. “It…it…was his.”

  My breath leaves my lungs in a whoosh, and my limbs feel numb as my blood drains to my feet. As I rationalize and digest her words, my wolf howls to break free and run. Beside me I can almost hear Logan’s mind reeling, and in an attempt to connect with him mentally I search around for him in the dark. His head comes up with a start, and while we can’t speak telepathically, I get the oddest sense that he can still feel me.

  I mouth the words, “She needs to shift.”

  “The poison in her body won’t allow it,” he answers quietly. “She has to ride it out.”

  I take a moment to consider this turn of events, then quickly berate myself. I should have put it together. The master had broken her, and she wanted to please him. From the intimate, adoring way she was acting with the man who controlled us, I should have realized what he’d done to her.

  When a big hiccupping sob cuts the quiet around us, I say, “Okay, Okay. Everything is going to be okay.”

  Acting purely on instinct, I gather her into my arms. Mimicking the way my mother used to try to soothe me, we rock back and forth on the bed, and while I know so very little about comforting someone, I try to do right by her. She deserves that much from me.

  “He’s going to come for me,” she says through a frightened sob as she clutches my arm. “And he’s going to be angry.” She inches back, and her nose is red and swollen, her lips horribly chewed. “But I couldn’t let him have it, Pride. I couldn’t.”

  “I understand.”

  She nods and sniffs, her dark eyes hopeful, searching for approval. “You do?”

  “Of course I do and I won’t let anyone hurt you. Not ever again.”

  “Okay,” she manages to say, her lids drooping around her eyes as sleep pulls at her. As she comes in and out of consciousness, I can feel her frustration, helplessness, confusion. We stay like that for a long time, and just when I think she’s fallen asleep her lids jump open.

  “Pride,” She says, her eyes rolling around her head like runaway marbles.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…I shouldn’t have…” She blinks wet lashes over stricken eyes. “I did what I had to in order to survive. I didn’t know you were going to come back to the compound to get me.”

  As I wonder what she’s getting at, every nerve in my body stands on high alert, and the hairs running along my nape begin to tingle.

  Before I can ask exactly what she’s getting at, exactly what she had to do, she sags against me. I feel the fight go out of her body and fire burns my blood.

  I touch her shoulders and gently ease her back onto her pillow, but when our eyes meet my heart begins to beat faster, and while I know I’m not going to like her answers, I’m suddenly desperate to hear them.

  I let out a slow breath. “What I don’t understand, Sandy, is why he would do this to you. He’s human and he wanted to breed strong alphas into the pack. So why would he want to dilute it with a half breed offspring?”

  “I’m, I’m not sure,” she slurs, then she smiles likes she’s remembering a distant past. “He promised me things. Nice things,” she adds, but as I sit here and listen to her, there is a small intuitive part of me that says she’s not being completely truthful.

  She’s not telling me everything.

  As I consider our former master, a hard man driven by hate and greed, I know there is a purpose to his every action. He impregnated Sandy for a reason. I just don’t know what that reason is.

  After Stone comes back with the hydrogen peroxide, I take it from him, and pull Sandy to a sitting position. “Stay with me a little longer, Sandy. I need you to sip this.”

  I put the bottle to her mouth and she takes a few mouthfuls. Once I’m satisfied that she’s ingested enough of the antidote I ease her back onto her pillow, and she exhales in an exhausted heap.

  Gem touches my arm. “I think she needs to rest, Pride.” With that she drapes a cool cloth over Sandy’s forehead. “I’ll stay with her.”

  I offer Gem a grateful smile, and force my feet to carry me out of the room. Once we all reach the hall, I look at Stone, the only boy who knows the master as well as I do.

  I talk to him silently. “There is more isn’t there?”

  “Yeah,” he agrees. “There’s something else she’s not telling us
.”

  “I know.”

  I take a moment to think about what Sandy did tell us. The master promised her things. Nice things. My stomach cramps and the hairs on my nape tingle because the master never gives without taking.

  So what did he want in exchange?

  I mull that over a moment longer and realize Sandy was going to give him offspring, some sort of half breed pup. As I toss that around inside my head, a more frightening thought strikes.

  What if it wasn’t a half breed at all?

  9

  With that last thought bouncing around inside my head and filling me with a new sort of anxiety, I step away from the others to slip into the small bathroom near my bedroom. The lock clicks behind me as I listen to everyone file back into their respective rooms, leaving Sandy in Gem’s care.

  I move across the warm marble floor and grip the pedestal sink hard enough to turn my knuckles white. With my blood draining to my feet, I lean forward and draw deep breaths before lifting my eyes to stare at my reflection in the vanity mirror. My long hair falls forward in a tangled mess around my chalky face, and I don’t miss the horror in my dark eyes or the inky smudges beneath them as I consider the root of Sandy’s fears.

  Is it possible that she turned the master? Created a new kind of monster and unleashed him into the world?

  Even though I’m on edge, a yawn pulls at me, a reminder that I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in ages. I blink to keep my eyes open and understand there is a real possibly that I might never sleep again—especially if Sandy created a dangerous new alpha.

  Needing to sort matters through, I turn the cold water on and splash my pale face to help clear the fog from my tired brain.

  If I’m right, if the master promised her nice things so she’d turn him, for reasons I’ve yet to understand, what suddenly prompted him to do it?

  Why now, after all this time would he ask one of his broken wolves to change him?