That night I dreamed. A remarkable construction
of subconscious thought. Fireflies dancing in the deepest chasm, knitting
together strands of broken light, crossing wires until all that remains is some
contorted version of reality. I dreamed of Carver, a faceless group of robed
old men holding down the man that should have been powerful enough to break
free. I dreamed of my wolf, caged within a broken body, my jade eyes watching
the scene without remorse. I dreamed of knives cutting into creamy skin,
muscles and tendons straining in agony. I dreamed of bottomless, ebony eyes
staring into mine filled with guilt and accusation.
When I woke I sat in the huge bed that was
now mine, a black snoring beast beside me. Birds called out in dawn's fresh day
and I watched as the world restarted once more. The day was starting out
perfect, the weather perfect for the season, the lazy wakening world perfect.
It was with almost panic that I realised exactly what I was being given on a
plate. A moment of full alertness in understanding this perfect life I was being
sucked into, how easily it could all be taken away, stolen from right beneath
my fingertips.
As I calmed my racing brain in its disaster
predictions, I was left with niggling thoughts that I could not shake. I had
spent two weeks in this new life, two weeks. How had I fallen so easily? Maybe
fate had just been waiting for my release to drop all these people on me. Or
maybe, what I thought had been anger and distrust was simply just a mask. Was I
in fact so desperate for companionship that I'd thrown my trust at the first
people that crossed my path?
Sam. Did he just find me? I had fallen
right into his grasp. He took me to his cabin, lay a pretty story at my feet
and gave me what I'd been missing; a home. Was it a deep seated need to belong?
Had I been taken in so easily because under layers of hate and soul burning
resentment I was just the girl I'd always been, one who'd had her life stolen
for a moment and only begged to have it returned. I was turning everything
over, sifting through events that led up to me being here, with an appointment
to meet governors in a few days that I'd never before had the intention of
seeing.
And Carver, I think I can trust that he is
supposed to be mine. After all I doubt my wolf would be so hesitant to kill the
man otherwise. But Sam knew him, had met him before. He'd known the guards I'd
been introduced to, Charlie and Duncan and Lane. I killed the Alpha and Carver
killed the next and now Lane is perfectly placed to be the next appointment.
Carver now has his hand in another pie, how many packs does he control?
Sam has secrets, ones he doesn’t want
known. Have I placed myself in the middle of someone else's plan, only to be a
pawn in a larger game? I felt as though I were juggling, possibilities thrown
in the air, turning and spinning until all sides are shown. I didn’t want to
doubt Sam. He's been a constant in my new world, him and the two brutes he
owns. Having spent four years inside my head; pain, then grief, then anger,
then acceptance and finally a twisted adaptation of who I once was. I believe
I'm smarter then what I began as. Living with only thoughts and planning tends
to focus the mind, but am I smart enough?
Was such carefully laid trust my greatest
mistake?
I forced myself to move, I wasn't finding
answers sat in this room and I now had a training plan, starting this morning
with Charlie. I would play the game, I would train with the guards and talk
with Carver and see how this all panned out, I'll watch the people planted
before me and take what they give me; enough tutelage to revisit Daniel, to
satisfy the bloodthirsty yearning entombed in precarious feelings of safety.
I made my way to the kitchen, Sam’s
movements slow and methodical as they reached my sensitive ears. I heard Carver
in his shower and picked up marching footsteps from the crushed gravel
surrounding the house, guards on first watch. I followed Remy as he ambled
towards the aroma of Sam making breakfast. More sweet talking kitchen staff for
supplies I presumed. I stood in the doorway for long moments spying on the old
man I'd come to share so much with. It produced an ache deep within, a
torturous tearing of an organ only just rebuilding. If Sam wasn't who I thought
he was, I think it would accomplish what four years with Daniel had not; a broken,
decimated girl.
"You goin' ta stand there all day,
girlie?"
I sighed at that accent full of lilts and
fractured words, "No. I'm coming."
*************
Carver dropped me off at the training room
an hour after breakfast. He had meetings all morning with men I hadn't met. On
the way over he'd informed me there were forty guards in this enclosure, ten of
them mated and living in the separate houses we'd passed on the way in and the
rest in a large barrack behind the dining hall. There was another site just behind
this one, accessed by a break in the wall somewhere near the guard's quarters,
that held another hundred or so men. The forty in this community were Carver's
own personal team, membership of which was hard fought for and won in matches
based on brute strength, cunning and loyalty. I was impressed with the
stringent rules he placed on those under his command, when Sam said the Captain
ruled with iron, he hadn't been exaggerating. Not a single action happened
without Carver's express permission and I understood the commitment placed on
those who pledged to his leadership. It really was living and dying by the
sword, there was no room for manoeuvring his commands.
The governors I was due to meet were not
permitted to stay within the walls of Carver's site and as such were currently
housed in the tourist hotels of Colwyn Bay, some five miles away from here. I
was pleased with his sharing of information, it made my doubt lessen slightly
and my thoughts less troubled. He left me with a look inside to ensure Charlie
was taking over my security detail and a whispering kiss to the side of my
head, again fast enough that he was already striding away before I realised
he'd gotten under my defences. I scowled at his retreating back, promising
myself I'd pay more attention to where his mouth was going in future and
stepped into the training room.
Charlie was standing in the middle of the
mat, hair in its usual disarray and eyes flicking in every direction. His gaze
settled on me once, then again and finally a third as it bounced back and forth
across the room. His contradiction brought a smile to my face, I'd rarely seen
anyone that was such a mix of personalities.
He gestured for me to remove my shoes and I
did so before taking a place in front of him in yoga pants and a t shirt. I'd
tied my hair back and it pulled at strands tight to my scalp, I was
uncomfortable without my hair obscuring my face, but it was past time to push
my comfort level and attempt to gain some semblance of control over my own
character.
Charlie bent to tie my ankles together,
taking care not to touch the skin exposed at my feet. I stared at him in
confusion and that serene aura washed over me before I could even voice a
protest. "Let's just work on upper body today. You have enough slack for
balance but we'll take your legs out of the equation for any actual training,
see if you can separate your upper body from your lower and control segments of
your form."
He jogged to the edge of the mat and picked
up gloves and wraps that seemed long enough to cover my forearms. He laughed
softly at my blown out breath, "these should cover your skin, I'm hoping
you'll be less inclined to take a bite out of me if I'm not touching your bare
arm."
I grinned back at him and caught each one
as he threw them my way. I checked in on my wolf as I put the wraps and then
the gloves on, she seemed completely relaxed, frozen in a vegetative state.
She'd made no obvious threat toward Charlie previously, not counting the take
down he'd had to make, and I had an idea it had something to do with that
tranquillity he broadcast. Maybe I'd be able to learn whatever he knew that
produced such waves of placid.
We began trading punches back and forth, a
parry of swiftly increasing sequences, a mind numbing focus that blew every
thought from my brain but one; the next volley I either had to make or defend.
It became such agonising concentration that I had no hope of running traitorous
thoughts through my mind any longer, all was lost to punch and repeat.
An hour went by quickly as I gained
knowledge of blocking and dodging. My feet remained in one position, locked and
fixed like glue to the floor. Any throw from him that landed was shrugged off,
the padded gloves creating a barrier that my skin appreciated. It was well into
the second hour, when sweat started to drip into my eyes and my arms held a
slight burn from overuse, regardless of my wolf-infused blood, that Charlie
signalled a break and grabbed bottled water from a table near the benches.
I eyed him for a moment as I drank and wiped
sweat from my forehead with a towel he'd passed to me. "Charlie, why is
Lane the one up for Alpha position?"
He smirked a little as his eyes danced from
me to the doors and back again, "You have a story Arya?" I nodded at
him and he continued, "so does Lane. His story to tell, but I'll give you
something. He volunteered to be the one in front of you when we knew we were
going to push you to change. He knew you would most probably try and kill him,
yet he volunteered before we'd even finished discussing the option."
I frowned, that just made him stupid, not
obvious choice for Alpha.
Charlie grinned again as he watched the
door, "He
always
volunteers, first one in, last one out if he can
help it. That wolf needs to be in mortal danger to survive, his appointment
will be both beneficial to the pack and his continued good health." He
chuckled softly as he dropped his towel on the bench and returned to the mat
gesturing my break was over.
I dabbed once more at my face and swung my
arms around to try and loosen the stiffness setting in. I had an insight into
Lane's fractured mind and all it brought me were more questions. I was still no
closer to why he was given that position, whether it was on his merit alone or
part of the bigger picture. There was really only one way I was going to know
for sure, and that was by exploring just one member of this seemingly perfect
life.
What was in Carver's mind?
The
leather chair creaked precariously as I moved, one more piece of furniture at
the end of its life. Yet another replacement I'd have to order. An added broken
chair to the pile accumulated over some two hundred years. Close to five
hundred pounds of heavy muscle had its drawbacks, the construction of basic
furniture yet to improve enough to hold such weight for long periods. I sighed
at Lane sitting in front of me as his mouth twitched in something close to a
smile.
I
liked the wolf in my office, but if he laughed at me one more time I'd add a
permanent scar to the map hidden beneath his trousers.
"When
is she...meeting them?"
I
cleared my throat at his stilted voice, years spent without one leaving it's
mark, "three days, I'll take her to the usual spot Friday, I'll want you,
Duncan and Charlie inside with me, half the guard outside in position."
Lane
nodded in acceptance, no doubt he'd already made arrangements of his own along
the same lines."You worried?"
I
took a moment to think, was I worried? I was many things; betrayed. Seething.
Guilty. Was I worried? Maybe only for myself. My wolf was the conscience
sometimes the man forgot and he pushed and pulled until I was made fully aware
of his accusations.
You're lying to her. We'll lose her.
I
growled at him, he didn't understand, he was the animal part of me, the part
that was allowed the privilege of black and white, truth or lies. There was no
grey area to the wolves within.
"No.
They won't be a problem, they're just asserting some false sense of power over
me by having me cave to their request. We'll still come out on top."
"Someone
knew." Lane's quiet voice was stating the obvious.
"Yes
I think that's pretty clear."
"Do
you know....who?"
I
had suspicions, a few names floating around my head. Yet nothing was absolute,
nobody to kill, no wolf to string headless from the highest post and swing in
the wind as warning to those who followed.
"Not
yet but I will. What he did to her...Lane I've done many things, many atrocious
things in my life but never this." I felt sick at the thought. What she'd
been through, what some
dead
man had done to her. To
my
Arya.
Rage like I'd never felt was constantly bubbling just under the surface,
waiting to erupt, boiling over until there was nothing but genocide in its
path.
It
took more effort then I thought possible, just to keep the lid on and hold onto
it with every ounce of strength, like every breath was an exercise in how
not
to begin a murder spree.
Lane
shook his head in agreement, "She tell you...what happened?"
No.
No she hasn't told me. I have images in my head of her screaming out for me,
even though she hadn't known me, of her begging me to save her. I dream of
failing her. Every. Single. Time. My hand clutched the solid oak desk, scared
with scratches from years of use. I see my white knuckles clench at the
splinters popping through the smooth waxed surface. The cracking of the desk
rips through my focus, Lane's calm voice calling my name over and over again.
"No
she hasn't told me, just implied." The growl that my voice had become was
harsh and gravelly even to my own ears and I winced at the sound.
"We'll
find out. Run him...through with our swords...till he bleeds out, slowly at her
feet." Lane's suggestion was amusing to me. This wolf knew pain. And this
wolf knew vengeance.
"It's
her kill, I promised her that much." I hated that promise. I wanted to feel
his blood run down my hands as they reached inside his chest and pulled his
organs through his skin. Whoever that man was, made the worst mistake of his
life.
But you're lying to her.
Yes
I was lying, but she's still mine. And in the end I'd have to hope that was
enough.
"Pass
me the files." Lane held out his hand as I threw the pack members files at
him. He flipped through page by page, halting every so often when something
written caught his attention.
He
stopped and stared at me for a long moment, "Seriously?"
I
quirked a brow at him, "What?"
"They
called themselves....moonshadow?"
I
shrugged.
He
shook his head in disbelief, "How pansy can...you get? That's the first
thing...going."
He
brought a smile to my lips. The first real one it seemed since I'd discovered
why Arya was so different. I'd faked smiles for her, a few almost true ones
that couldn't be helped just on seeing that red hair and stern face. But
everything is just testing, dipping a toe into the water to see if it burns or
not. Trying a different approach if it scalds the first time round. I'll find
something that works eventually and I'll not give up until she is unequivocally
mine, I was sold the first time I saw her.
One
hundred years before I'd gained the rank of Captain, two hundred since then.
I'd fought for Kings....killed a few. Survived revolts and assassinations and
finally, little by little, I'd gained a loyal following. Men I trusted with
more than my life, men I'd trust with hers. I'd learnt how not to do things and
how not to get caught. This moment, these resulting weeks however, may be my
defining battle.
Those
governors that claimed possession over the entire species would soon learn
everything had been an endgame. A series of ploys and misdirection all
meticulously planned to give me the result I needed. They would soon be
obsolete, as they should have been from the very start.
One
wolf commanding all is a dictatorship. When the royalty abdicated we were in a
different time, an era in need of democracy. That didn't work for me. Even
within this group of 'higher' wolves there continued to be infighting, childish
school yard antics that only proved one thing; one rule, one power, one wolf.
We
are creatures of hierarchy, and we remain either dominant or subservient to one
another. And I was made more than what others are.
"You
want to see them...how they act with her...see if they knew about Arya."
And
this was why Lane was the right choice, not only was he completely loyal to me
but he was uniquely qualified by how he saw the world, all twists and turns
included.
"Yes.
And if I find they did, do not expect us to return still governed."
Lane's
mouth lifted in horrifying amusement. "Gut them all...crack open their
chests...see their scheming hearts."
I
matched Lane's grin with one of my own."You're becoming more violent in
your old age friend."
He
gave a quiet chuckle," No.. Just more honest about it."
I
checked the clock on my office wall, black to match the painted panels it
rested on. "We have two hours before I pick up Arya, I need Friday's trip
planned out minute by minute before then and I want your intentions for that
pack, from what I hear they've been under rotten Alphas for some time."
Lane
nodded and set the files down on the desk. He'd spend half that time planning,
something we'd done a thousand times over until it became second nature, and
then we'd go through it line by line until perfect was within reaching
distance. I allowed many things from my guards, humour at my expense, ribbing
between ranks. Failure was not one of them.
I
spent time anticipating his thoughts and scribbling counter arguments,
speculations on possible unforeseen problems. I finished well before he did and
could not keep my mind off the little red head that had tied herself so tightly
to me, I couldn't breathe without that cherry scent becoming a part of me. It
infused my every molecule, my Wolf rolling around and luxuriating in the smell
that rolled so seductively off her skin.
By
now we should have mated. Become two halves of one whole. It was a constant
torment for both myself and the animal within to be so close and yet so far.
However on this, we were both utterly in tune, neither one prepared to push for
something not willingly given. I would spend another three hundred years waiting
for that woman, if only I had the promise of 'some day'.
As
far as I was concerned, with or without that Mark on her neck, she was mine. My
female, my woman. Mine in this lifetime and the next. The beast inside rumbled
in agreement, a deep rolling sound that reverberated in utter surety. No shaded
areas, all black and white.
But you're lying to her.