Pride Unleashed (a Wolf's Pride novel, book 2) (18 page)

I’ve missed him so much.

“You were beautiful from day one, sweetheart
,
”
he assures me.

“Now look who’s trying to be funny,” I say,
working
t
o keep my voice from shaking as badly as my hands.
“I was a gangly runt and you know it.”
 

Humor leaves his voice when he says,
“What I know is that y
ou’re a
survivor
,
Pride.
You always have been and always will be.
”
His eyes go dark, serious when he continues.
“Don’t ever let anyone take that from you.
”

“I won’t,” I say
when I see how
solemn
he’s become
, and
I feel
a strange sense of
relie
f
when those two simple words bring
a small smile to his face.

He holds my hand a long time, then breaks the quiet by asking,
“Do you remember when you were little and
I used to sing to you
?
”

I nod
.

“Do you remember the words?”

A
s
my mind recalls
his whispered
lyrics about love, loss and
forgiveness
, I say, “Yes.”

“Good,” he says
and pats my hands. “That’s good, Pride.”
T
hen I hear something in his voice, something that sounds like regret when he asks,
“Do you remember
the
last
words I spoke to you
?
”
His voice hitches when he adds, “
Before I left here
?
”

I swallow, and wonder what he’s getting at.
What
is
he trying to tell me
?
As I struggle to understand, to puzzle things out, I say
,
“Yes
.
Y
ou told me that some
things
are
worse than death.
”

“Do you know why I said that to you
, Pride
?
”
He shifts closer, and when his comforting scent curls around me my heart tightens with long ago memories.

“To help me stay strong?”
I answer, my voice sounding strangled, even to myself.

Anxiety fills his features and
my body stiffens, everything inside me
warning that
I might not be ready for what h
e’s about to say next.
“Partly,” he says
, his voice falling off
as we exchange a long look.
But as I sit
in
silen
ce
,
waiting for him to explain
,
he closes
h
is mouth.
As his lips form a tight white line I can’t help but wonder if he thinks I’m not ready to hear it yet either.

But before I can ask him what else it mean
s
a noise above us has him stiffening.
H
e
presses a
finger
to my lips
to hush me
and slowly
climbs to his feet.

He begins to back away from me, and I
r
each for him.
“No.
Don’t go.”

“Forgive me, Pride,” he says as he
steps further away, until he
disappears into the darkness.
“Sometimes we have to do what we have to do
.”

B
reathing hard I jump up
from
the cold floor
, my hand still outstretched as I frantically
scan the cellar
, my
father
’s voice still lingering in the night
even though I can’t catch any remaining scent of him
.
My gaze darts from left to right, but when
I find myself
alone
inside my cell, the
basement
empty except for Sandy, who is
just beginning to wake,
I let loose a cry.

It was a nightmare
!

As that reality slowly sinks in I
throw myself onto my mattre
ss.
I
work to regulate my erratic breathing a
s my
battered
mind
rushes in all direction
s
, and I
note
th
e
small part of me warning that
it wasn’t a dream at all, that
my father really was here
.

But i
t had to be
a nightmare, I tell myself.
It had to be.
A bad dream
that was
brought on by yesterday’s trauma
.
Otherwise it means my father has done something.

Something he needs forgiveness for.

But a
s a confined wolf who’s been taught to trick and lure, I know nothing about forgiveness.

Except
he wasn’t here
,
I remind myself
.
None of this
is
real.
It can’t be.
Swallowing uneasily,
my shaky gaze goes to the
door at the top of the stairs and
I
find it tightly shut, no signs that anyone has been in or out.

But no matter how hard I try to convince myself that it was nothing but a
night terror
,
my stomach clenches
with worry, because
there is a part of me that believes
while my father might not have been here physically, he was still communicating with me
.

As I think more
about our exchange,
I wonder what
he is trying to tell me
.  What
is
he
asking
of
me
?
Despite my
worn out
body needing sleep, I’m
suddenly
too afraid to close my eyes.
Instead,
I lay there for the rest of the night,
and run our conversation over and over in my mind until I hear the
upstairs
pipes
groan
awake
.

A sign that t
he household is rising.

I’m thankful when the handler finally comes, and don’t even care that it’s Lawrence.
All I want is to get out of my cage and get outside
, to let the warm sunshine melt the
ice
inside me
.
Less than ten minutes later I find myself in the courtyard, the air fresh and crisp
,
the sky clear of clouds
after yesterday’s
heavy rain s
torm.

I remain quiet, non confrontation
al
as
Lawrence removes my collar
and I can see the way he’s looking at me, wondering
what’s wrong with me
.
I know I should probably be sparring with him like I normally do, but I
simply
don’t have it in me today.

Stepping away from the others and hoping to lose myself in the crowd, I
look for Logan
, unease
zinging through my blood
.
When I finally spot him,
dressed in a pair of
worn
jeans
that hang low on his waist
,
my heart goes into my throat
and relief just about has me sobbing
.
Except for the recent scars on his body he looks good,
strong.
H
ealed.

I try not to stare
.
I don’t want
to
draw any attention to my
rattled
state
.
Bu
t when his
eyes
lock on mine and I see real worry
lingering in their stormy depths
, my stomach tumbles.

Does he know what happen
ed
to his pack?
That the master has Gem?

I need to shift, so I can speak with him privately
and find out what he know
s
.
My hand goes to my new nightgown, but with all these wolves watching, I find it difficult to strip.
As I consider that a moment longer I berate myself for my foolish behavior.
The lives of many are
hanging in the balance and
it shames me that
I’m worried about
such a little thing like
nudity.

When Logan sees me removing my clothes, he quickly sheds his
own
, and once we’re both in primal form I saunter closer, not wanting my thoughts to be overhead by
the others
.

But before I can speak to him, Mario
steps up to us
.
The handler averts my
gaze
like he can’t bear to
look at me
as he leads Logan
to the obstacle course.
I swallow hard and
browse
the yard, wondering
who they’ll put up against him.
If I know
the
master, he’s testing the alpha,
testing
his strength and stamina
to
determine if h
e’s good breeding stock, which means there is only one other alpha he’s likely to pit him agains
t
.

That thought has my stomach roiling.
I spin around in time to see the master saunter into the yard.
He looks hard, dangerous, a man on a mission.

He moves through his throngs of pets, examining them carefully and when I see him stop to look over Sandy, the way she star
es
up at him with adoring eyes doesn’t go unnoticed
by me
.

Sick to my stomach at how broken she is, how she sees the master for something he isn’t, I turn away, but not before I catch
the
brutal
smile he aims my way.
One that tells me he’s up to something
and it I’m not going to like it
.

With my back to him
I
can tell
he’s watching me, I can feel his eyes
cutting
into my back.
Feigning disinterest, I go down on my haunches and begin to groom myself, all the while trying
not
to show any sign of emotion when Stone is led to the obstacle course
to compete with Logan
.

Alpha pitted against
a
lpha, they stare at one another
, t
wo strong, powerful wolves,
both
with sleek
,
streamlined bodies
, ready to fight to the death
.
And while I know Logan is a wolf who can survive
in
the wild, he’s playing in Stone’s territory now, and that can’t be good for any of us.

I see the way Stone is staring at him
and
I can feel the rage emanating off his body
, the conflict
between them
escalating
in
the
close confines
.
His long talon
s
di
g
into the soft earth and his growl rumbles like thunder
and hovers over the courtyard like a dark cloud
as he sizes up his enemy
.

They’re staring at one another,
two
blazing
sets of pewter eyes
ready to set the compound o
n
fire,
but there are too many wolves milling about, their collective voices
interfering
with my ability to hear what they are saying
to each other
.
From the
look in Stone
’
s eyes
, however,
I can tell he’s out
for
blood.