Pride's Pursuit Page 11

  From everything I’ve learned, wolves rarely turn humans, and when they do, it’s through a careful selection process. The human candidate would only be turned if they could bring something new to the pack. But of course, I can’t forget that none of those rules would apply in the master’s house.

  My mind takes me back to my last few days in his mansion. There were no indications that he’d been bitten, no signs, no scent variations, or behavioral changes that illustrated he was becoming wolf.

  I take a minute to consider the time frame. If Sandy changed him in between moon cycles, when I was making my way back to the compound then it would have been too soon for him to display any changes. He wouldn’t have any wolf strength or characteristics until he’d gone through his first full moon transformation.

  That thought has me breathing a small sigh of relief. Because if he hadn’t gone through a lunar cycle yet, it meant the feral panthers would have easily taken care of him. He never would have survived long enough to reach the next full moon—a mere day ago—when he would have fed and become a full-fledged wolf.

  Despite what Sandy said, despite her feeling him out there somewhere, he has to be dead. He just has to be. Otherwise…

  A shiver moves through me, because there can’t be an otherwise. An otherwise means he’s still out there—in wolf form—and that possibility is too horrific for me to consider.

  I turn the water off, dry my face and hands on the big fluffy cotton towel beside me and draw a breath before opening the bathroom door.

  I face a dark hallway, but the thoughts of returning to my room where I found an old, lost photo of my mother makes me feel restless, anxious.

  I take a step, and when my booted feet thump on the floor, I stop and cringe.

  Wanting to move about the house silently, I kick off my boots, and place them inside my room. But when I do, I once again hear voices coming from the ventilation system.

  I walk to the grate and hunker down to listen. This time I’m able to make out what Logan is saying. And I’m able to determine who he is talking to.

  “She deserves to know,” Logan says, and even though his voice sounds tinny coming through the pipes, I don’t miss the anger in his tone.

  “When she’s ready,” my father counters and I hear a wheeze in his throat, like he’s having difficulty drawing in air.

  “Ready? And how much time do you think you have?”

  I hear a scuffle, and my stomach tightens with worry as I continue to listen, wondering what is going on. What are they keeping from me?

  But then my worry turns to anger, because I’m so tired of all the secrets. I might expect it from my father, but after everything we’ve been through, the only thing I expect from the boy I mated with is complete and utter honesty.

  “Not enough time,” my father answers, sadly. “Never enough time,” he says again, and I don’t miss the melancholy in his tone.

  I hear Logan exhale slowly, and can almost feel the fight drain out of him. “Then you’d better do right by her and help her find her way before it’s too late. She’s counting on you, and after the life you let her live, she deserves at least that much from you.”

  The venom I hear in Logan’s tone pulls a gasp from me, and I realize I’m seeing another side of the boy I mated with, a side that has my heart swelling with everything I feel for him.

  As I consider the boy who crawled into my hell to help save me, my anger melts. I trust him with all my heart and realize he isn’t keeping the truth from me on purpose. He’s keeping secrets because he has to. Because he’s protecting me from something. Something that has everything to do with my father.

  It also occurs to me that if he’s keeping something from me, then maybe I’m not ready to face it.

  That dark thought sends my emotions on a roller coaster ride and the desperate need to find Logan prompts me into action. I climb to my feet and retrace my steps back into the hall.

  Moving with stealth, I pad silently down the long winding staircase in search of the two. With the others asleep, I walk around the mansion undetected, and examine my father’s belongings as I search him out. I step into the kitchen and open and close the drawers and cupboards. I make note of all the things I can use as a weapon if need be, and commit the contents to memory. Then make my way down a long hallway to find a heavy door leading to the basement. I stare at it, and my wolf growls, hating the thoughts of what that area once held.

  Could they be down there?

  I run my hand along the door frame, and look at the key pad beside it. When I realize it’s been disabled and try the door, only to find it open, my heart gives a little lurch.

  The hinges creak as I slowly pull it open, and the scent of fresh pine hits with a slap. As I breathe in the cleaning solution, and note the freshly waxed floors, I move down the long corridor and don’t miss the cameras pivoting to watch me.

  I open a door leading to the basement, and when the scent of wolf, barely masked by the cleanser, rises up to meet my nostrils, I work to get my own wolf under control. Deep inside she’s howling, urging me to run the other way because she knows.

  She knows this is where my father once caged wolves.

  Once caged Logan.

  “Pride, don’t go down there.”

  I spin around and find Logan moving toward me. His eyes are dark, his expression pained.

  “Logan,” I say, my emotions in a tangled mess as he pulls me away from the door and into his warm embrace. “This is where he kept you caged,” I rush out.

  Even though he can’t read my thoughts, he’s still privy to my concerns, and what he says next gives credence to our connection. “He never hurt me, Pride.” His voice falls off and he runs the soft pad of his thumb over the scar on my neck, and when his eyes travel back to my face, what I see in his eyes nearly becomes my undoing. “Not like your master did.”

  I look over his shoulder, half expecting to see my father coming down the hall.

  “Where is he?” I ask.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I heard you two talking.”

  His look is confused for a moment then his muscles tighten when he asks, “What did you hear?”

  “I heard you telling him to do right by me.” I want to say more. I want to ask questions. But I don’t. While it’s not in my nature to back away from the truth, I bite my tongue because I trust Logan. Trust that he knows what he’s doing.

  He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, then seems to think better of it and asks, “What are you doing down here?”

  “I was looking for you and my father.”

  Worried eyes search mine. “You shouldn’t be down here. There is nothing here for you to see.”

  “Why are you down here, Logan?”

  “I went to your room looking for you. And when I couldn’t find you, I had a feeling.”

  “Am I that transparent?”

  “I know the way you think.”

  “Then you must know I’m sorry for all this.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for. I do.”

  I look at him, confused. “I’m the one who dragged you into all this.”

  “Hey, come on,” he says, panic easing from his expression. “You didn’t drag me into this. A few months back I came here on my own free will, remember. Then when I heard about the fearless Pride, I came looking for you.” He pauses for a long moment, and emotions thicken his voice when he says, “The truth is, Pride, you could be dead because of me. You tried to tell me about Nova, but I didn’t listen.” He rakes his hair from his forehead and his glance is apologetic. “I just thought…”

  “This isn’t your fault. You’ve been through a lot these last couple of days and she’s a member of your pack. Betraying you is the last thing you expected from her, especially after everything that happened at your village.”

  “I still should have known.”

  “She fooled us all, Logan.”

  “She didn’t fool you.” His nostrils flare
and I feel his muscles bunch beneath me when he adds, “Or Stone.”

  “We’ve been caged and tortured our whole lives, and that makes us react differently.”

  He looks away, like he’s unable to meet my eyes. “Maybe he’s right. Maybe he does know how to take care of you better.”

  “Logan,” I rush out. “You once told me we were equals, and that it’s our job to take care of each other. I love how you trust me, respect my choices and have such faith in me. It gives me faith in myself, and makes me stronger.”

  He grips the back of my head. “Pride, if anything ever happened to you…”

  “Nothing is going to happen to me,” I say, and swallow down my apprehension.

  He pulls me in tight. “You’re right. Because I won’t let it. I made a mistake and it won’t happen again.” He splays his hands over the small of my back. “I don’t know…I couldn’t…” he says then stops like he can’t force the words out of his mouth.

  “I know, Logan. I know,” I say. And I do know, because I couldn’t face a future without him in it, either.

  He looks at me long and hard and worry creeps into his voice when he says, “You need sleep.”

  When I think about returning to that bedroom alone, my heart pounds harder in my chest, and my legs tighten, refusing to budge.

  Logan’s face softens and, astute wolf that he is, he slips his arm around my waist. “Come on.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Outside.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I know what you need.”

  Instead of asking what he’s getting at I allow him to lead me out the back door. We move away from the house and follow a path leading toward a beautiful in-ground pool, and for some reason the water reminds me of the ocean and the promise Logan once made to me.

  When the cool evening air wraps around me, he hugs me to him, and my wolf takes pleasure in the warmth of his body.

  In the near distance the water ripples on a breeze, and we stand there in silence for a long time, both of us lost in our thoughts, and I wonder what he’s thinking about when he angles his head and smiles at me.

  He finally breaks the quiet and says, “Remember when we were in the woods?”

  “Yes.”

  “What do you remember most?”

  I instantly think back to the night I gave myself to him in the cave. I look at him, and he has a crooked grin on his face.

  “Besides that,” he says and rolls his eyes playfully.

  I think for a moment then say, “I remember the bear that nearly killed me. I remember meeting the other kids and eating around a fire.” I stop to give a frightened shake before adding, “I remember the PTF officers that nearly found us, and I remember you teaching me all about survival.” I also remember him teaching me how to laugh, and how to cry, but I keep those thoughts to myself.

  “Well, I’m in your world now, Pride.” He shrugs. “So to speak. So why don’t you teach me something?”

  I look at him and know what he’s doing. Even though he’s worried sick about his family, his destroyed village, he’s trying to distract me, trying to lighten my mood.

  “I don’t have anything to teach you.”

  “Sure you do.”

  “No. I don’t.”

  Refusing to let it go, he says, “When we were pups we used to play games with each other. What did you do when you were a pup?”

  I think back to the days when we were in the nursery, before the master turned us into feral watchdogs. “Well, there was this one thing we used to do, but it’s kind of lame.”

  “Teach me.”

  “When we were let outdoors to socialize we would all search for the biggest, thickest blade of grass.” I stop to look around. When I find one, I pluck it from the ground and say, “Here, like this.”

  “What did you do with it?”

  I smooth the blade out, and position it between my thumbs, and then I blow into it until a shrill noise echoes around us.

  “That’s a mad skill, Pride,” he teases and when I catch his grin, it reminds me of Logan’s boyish, playful side, a side I haven’t seen in a long time. A side I miss terribly.

  I hand him the blade. “It’ not as easy as it looks, you know,” I respond, feigning hurt.

  When he doesn’t take the blade, I say, “What, are you afraid you can’t do it?”

  “No. It’s just that you were right.”

  “About what?”

  “This is kind of lame.” With that he laughs, and the sound is so blissful, so magical, I find myself laughing right along with him.

  He gives me a crooked smile full of mischief and my heart turns over in my chest. Even though I’ve spent the better part of my life hardening myself, after two minutes with Logan I find myself forgetting about the real world for a moment.

  A noise sounds in my throat and as I shelve my worries for the time being, I shake my head. “How is it you always know what I need?”

  His smile softens, and the corner of his mouth turns up, but there isn’t a trace of humor in his voice when he says with absolute conviction, “Because I’m your mate, Pride.”

  Everything in the way he says mate, with such total confidence, such belief in me, in us, has my blood racing a little faster, and my throat tightening with emotion. While we might not have been born to be destined mates, it still doesn’t mean we don’t share a special bond.

  “Okay, since your game was so lame, let me show you what we did as pups.”

  My throat feels swollen, too tight to talk, so I simply nod.

  “Here are the rules. Whoever can make the other person laugh first wins.”

  He turns away from me, and when he looks back, his eyelids are flipped inside out. The horrendous sight has my head jerking back with a start and instead of laughing I pull a disgusted face.

  “That’s just wrong, Logan.”

  He blinks and his lids go back to normal. He clucks his tongue but his voice is playful when he says, “You’re a hard nut to crack, Pride. I used to always win with that one.”

  I turn from him, and use my index fingers to pull the corner of my eyes down and my thumbs to push my nose up. I spin back around and Logan shrieks, the sound so high pitched and girlish we both end up laughing.

  He grins. “Looks like it’s a draw.”

  “No, I’m pretty sure I won,” I announce.

  “Fine you win,” he says and juts his chin outward, like a spoiled child.

  “So what does the winner get?” I ask.

  “It was usually a stick of gum, but you, Pride,” he says, his voice dropping an octave as his blue eyes darken with need. “You can have anything you want.”

  As I think about what I want, I ask, “What do you want, Logan?”

  “Oh, I think you already know that.” With that he throws himself on the ground and reaches for me. “Come here,” he says and pulls me down beside him. With our arms and legs in a tangled mess, we lie there and look up at the stars, and while I appreciate the fact that Logan isn’t putting any demands on me, there is another side of me that craves his touch, his kisses.

  “You know, when this is all over, I’m going to make sure you laugh every day.”

  My stomach knots because my old fears that this war on wolves will never be over, haunts my thoughts. As I think about all those I’ve lost in battle, I say, “There was a picture of my mother in my room.”

  “I saw it when I went looking for you, but I didn’t know it was your mother.” He leans into me, plants his elbows on the ground and props his head onto his palm. “Although I should have known. You look like her.”

  “Why do you think he has that picture?”

  “Probably because he really did love her, Pride.”

  “Do you think he has any of me?” I ask before I can think better of it, and hate how needy I feel, hate how it actually matters—that I allow it to matter—or that it would mean so much to me if he did.

  “I’m sure he does.”

&nb
sp; Logan places his hand on my stomach and spans his fingers. As his warmth transfers to me, I close my hand over his, my mind instantly rewinding to our time on the mountain, to when we held and protected each other while we slept under the stars.

  “Logan.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Sandy thinks the master is still alive.”

  I feel his body tense. “Do you?”

  I angle my head to see him. “I’m not sure. I don’t think so, but what if—” my voice falls off because I suddenly can’t push the words past my lips, suddenly can’t give the idea validity.

  But I don’t need to voice those worries for Logan to know what I’m thinking. “Do you think she changed him?” I don’t miss the silver in his eyes as he carefully searches the grounds.

  “Even if she did, he wouldn’t have gone through a lunar cycle before the panthers got to him.”

  “He’s a dangerous man, Pride. And we can never underestimate him.”

  “I know,” I say quietly and after a long moment I ask, “Why do you think he’d want to turn wolf? Why now, after all this time?”

  “I don’t know. Power maybe. Or maybe he thinks he can control us better if he’s one of us.”

  I take a moment to think about it longer, before asking, “Do you think Sandy is going to be okay?”

  “She needs time to heal. I think it will be better once we get her away from all this.”

  I crinkle my nose and ask, “Where will we go?”

  “After we find Malcolm and the others, we’ll head to the Jasper Mountains and try to find my pack.”

  I think about that for a moment longer, and as he holds me tight, smoothing my hair from my face, I realize how much I’ve missed our private talks. How right it feels to be held by him, even if he was never destined to be my mate.

  “Once we’re all together again, we’ll have to rebuild our lives.”

  Thinking about rebuilding has me remembering what Stone said to me only a few short hours ago.

  “There can only be one alpha in the pack.”

  I think about how Logan went after Stone tonight, to bring him back to safety, and I wonder if Stone would have gone after Logan. And if he had, would two wolves have emerged from the ominous forest tonight? Or only one?