Chapter Seven

 

How many more fucking shocks and surprises can this day hold?

People started to file out and the row of spectators cleared as Keir came to Sam, but Sam stood his ground. “Really? You’re meeting at the flagpole?”

“What?”

“You and Euan are meeting for a punch-up?” Sam translated, jerking his chin at Euan, still on the dais, holding a handkerchief to his mouth and glaring at them.

“Not a punch-up, no. Sam, we’re all heading into the forest. After meeting, there’s usually a run.”

“Not…as in a 10k for charity.” Sam searched Keir’s eyes.

“In shifted form. Look, do you want to go back to the house?”

“I…” Sam cleared his throat. “What do you want me to do?”

“I…wanted you to see me. See the pack.” Keir shrugged.

“Then I’m coming.”

“Are you sure?”

“No. But I’m coming.”

He found himself getting a ride not with Meg and Oscar—he couldn’t find them as everyone milled about—but Chris sans Daniella. Keir presumably had to do Pack things first before the fleet-of-foot race or trial of strength or whatever and Daniella was there too, it seemed.

“Not your usual Saturday night, I bet?” Chris threw him a grin, his face creasing into laugh lines, where Sam bounced around in the front of the small Jeep.

“Is it still Saturday?” Sam was honestly surprised. That morning, he’d woken in London. In a strange bed, yes, but in a familiar city. Here, driving in the dark up into a forest, was anything but that.

Chris braked in the clearing. “I suppose the idea is for you to stay back here with the ones who aren’t shifting.” Getting out, he indicated a huddle of elder people, or wolves, Sam supposed he should call them, and several younger ones, illuminated by vehicles’ headlights, like some macabre picnic. Chris reached into the back of the vehicle and passed Sam a blanket.

“I’ll come as far as you’re going. But I’ll take this. Thanks.” He flipped it around his shoulders, not caring he must look stupid.

A circle had formed, in a copse of trees a few metres farther up, Keir a member. He left the group and approached.

“Sam. This… You know, I have no idea how to finish that sentence? I don’t know what this looks like to a human.” He unbuttoned his shirt, and Sam eyed his massive pecs.

“I’m okay with it so far,” he replied. “Love how you’re sweetening the deal. Whatever the deal…is…” Everyone else was disrobing too. Oh. Of course. He’d never thought about what happened to clothing when a shifter…shifted. Should he turn his back? No. He’d seen Keir nude, and in turning around, he’d be staring at Daniella’s tits. So not his scene.

“Ready? Ready to lose, I mean?”

The sneer was delivered by Euan, and Sam began to have an inkling of what was about to happen, one he didn’t like at all.

“I won’t lose.” Keir sounded like he was discussing what exercises to do in the gym. “I know you want it old-ways style, but I won’t kill you when I beat you. Probably.”

Sam’s mouth dropped open, and a naked Keir reached out to close it, his hand gentle. “Last chance, Sam. If you want to go, go now.”

Sam couldn’t have, even if he’d wanted to, which he sort of did, and which made him curse himself for his cowardice.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Keir grated, or growled, or yowled, Sam didn’t know what to call it, or how to describe Keir slipping to the ground right in front of Sam’s eyes and changing. Transforming. Shifting. God, the noise was terrible! Cracking and tearing and ripping, and the sight? Even worse, a stretching, a racking, a reshaping. And where Keir had been now stood a huge gray wolf. Oh, it was striking, with a savage, primal beauty all its own. Sam wanted to sink a hand into its luxurious fur and see the shades and colours ripple. He was sorry he couldn’t see them in this light. He wanted to stoke down its long muzzle and feel the texture of its black nose, the shape of its wide mouth.

And when it turned its intent, deep-set, glowing greeny-amber eyes—intelligent, sentient eyes—on Sam, he gulped and faltered backwards. Another wolf was close, waiting, it seemed. It was smaller, darker, sleeker, half-sitting in a crouch, and as Sam neared it, it swiped out a paw at him. Jesus!

With a blood-curling howl that rang around the forest, Keir sprang for the wolf. Sam wouldn’t have known the darker wolf was Euan, expect that all the others had slinked away and left it alone. Sam exclaimed out loud when Keir’s jump knocked the dark wolf off its feet, and bowled both wolves over.

“Sam!” It was Leanne. She hadn’t shifted? Oh, she had both arms around the kids. “Come back here!” she urged.

He did so, not taking his gaze from the duo scrambling and clashing in the clearing. They rolled, what seemed liked hundreds of teeth clashing, as they both tried to get the upper hand. Sam’s teeth were chattering. He jumped at the touch to his wrist, but was grateful for Mia slipping her small hand into his. She turned her face into her mother’s side. Peeping, Sam saw Owen had his eyes shut. Sam frowned. Surely this was too much for kids? They’d been brought here to connect with the pack, not witness a brutal fight.

“You okay?”

He nodded in answer to Leanne’s question, the crashing and thudding in the clearing claiming his attention once again. Keir howled, the dominant cry ringing around the forest. If it was supposed to put Euan in his place, tell him to submit, it didn’t—the bastard took advantage of Keir’s head being thrown back and shook himself free, catching Keir’s shoulder with a wide swing of his claws.

Keir spun, a mix of a whine and a yelp issuing from him. Euan jumped for him again, crouching low, his fangs in full view. But as Euan struck again for Keir’s injured side, Keir stretched to his full height, full power. Had he been faking the injury? Wolf shifters healed quickly, it was said, but Sam would assume Keir had a few tactics to call upon.

In a powerful, controlled spring, Keir folded himself into the air and out again and landed on Euan’s chest, bringing him down. The speed, the grace, the coiled then unleashed energy of the move was breath-stealing. Euan was pinned, struggling on his side, clawing where he could, and Keir closed his jaws around his opponent’s jugular and bit down. Sam tore his hand free of Mia’s. He needed to press both hands over his mouth, because he feared he’d be sick. Maybe he should hold them over his eyes? He couldn’t shut them, couldn’t stop looking at where Keir’s teeth were buried in another wolf’s throat. There was something intimate about the act, although the situation was as far from romantic as it was possible to get.

“I don’t think it’s a kill strike,” Leanne muttered. “Keirnan said he wouldn’t. Bloody softy.”

Soft— Euan was still snarling, still trying to pull free, still fighting, but a heavy shake of Keir’s head had his fangs sinking deeper. A dark stain bloomed, and Euan went limp. Sam held his breath, not letting it out until Euan whimpered. That seemed to be the signal Keir was waiting for, or maybe more was passing between the two, between victor and vanquished, between challenger and champion. Sam couldn’t tell, but Euan seemed to know he was beaten. He fucking well should.

“Why did he bother challenging?” Sam burst out. “He must have known how powerful Keir is. You only have to look at him!”

Leanne eyed him.

“I mean, this!” Sam, dizzy and feeling sick with the ebbing adrenaline, indicated the clearing, the circle of wolves creeping closer. “Could have been avoided,” he finished quietly.

Keir howled, and the wolf next to him took up where his halloo finished, sending his cry out too. Then what that one ended, the wolf at that one’s side did the same, and the next, and the next. Sam tried to count them—were these the Councillors? How many had sat on the dais in the hall? As the last ended its paean, the entire pack howled in chorus, a primitive, powerful and blood-curdling noise that filled the forest.

A strange energy emanated, generated by the pack, passed from wolf to wolf, growing, building.

“They’re going to run.”

Owen’s voice startled Sam. Yes, a restlessness was taking over, the wolves stretching, pawing at the ground, lifting their heads to scent the air. It was beautiful in its otherworldliness. Several wolves surrounded Keir, butting their heads into his flanks or his neck—the wolf equivalent of high-fives? Some even ran their chins down his muzzle. It was so alien. Sam wished he’d had time to read up on the gestures and their meanings, but no book or article could have prepared him for what he’d seen, what he was now witnessing.

Keir bounded over, his fur alive with static, his eyes wild. He smelled strong, Sour, perhaps? Metallic? He stared hard at Sam, but made no attempt to touch him or speak. Speak. As if there are talking wolves, you twat, Sam chastised himself. Luckily, Leanne understood her brother. She nodded and tightened her hold on her children, pulling them closer into her body. Mia grabbed Sam’s hand again. Leanne inched them all backwards, just a tad, and Keir yowled, long and lusty, then turned and sped away in big leaps.

“They’ll be out a while. There’s no point waiting. Really, I have no idea when he’ll be back. Come on. I’ll take you with us.”

Sam, numb, stumbling, found himself in his third car of the evening and soon back at the cottage. Mia and Owen unfroze once indoors. They must have processed the shock? Or had seen it all before, or had a genetic predisposition. Who knew. They chattered and rehashed the happenings as Leanne heated soup and sliced and buttered bread for them. Sam didn’t want to eat and found the action of holding and using a spoon strange—his arm seemed nerveless—but Leanne insisted. She poured his soup into a huge mug and hovered until he hefted it with two hands and drank the steaming broth. She nudged the bread closer, cut it into small squares. When had he last eaten? San couldn’t remember.

“No point in me commenting it must seem strange, are you all right, etcetera,” she said, stirring hot chocolate into mugs for everyone.

“Umm,” Sam agreed, forcing his vocal chords to work. He shook his head. “I knew, of course, that Keir was, is, a wolf shifter…”

“There’s a difference between knowing and seeing.”

“I didn’t know…” That your father’s the Alpha. That Keir has to… That there’d be… He couldn’t even form the thought and in a few minutes, accepted the trio’s offer to walk him along the track, back to the annexe.

“Will it be all right?” he asked, grabbing Leanne’s sleeve as she turned to go.

“Will Keirnan be all right? Of course. Be tired out, once he’s got all that out of his system.” She shrugged and patted his hand where it curled around her arm.

That wasn’t quite what Sam had been asking, he didn’t think. But asking her Will I be all right? seemed the most craven question he could form. He pottered around the bedroom, his steps small and his movements tiny, jumping at every sound. Not that were many, out there. But when he heard something, it took him a few seconds to understand it was a car. A big heavy one, he guessed. Keir’s! Seconds later, footsteps sounded on the old stone stairs outside and the door he hadn’t latched pushed open. But it wasn’t Keir.

“Daniella?” She looked wild, her blonde waves swirling, her face pink and her eyes glittering. Fuck. Her appearance, her demeanour reminded Sam of going clubbing, and his heart thudded. He could glimpse Keir’s Land Rover down below, and she had its keys in her hand, along with a small bag.

“Here.” She threw the keys to him, making him fumble to catch them. “I brought his car back for him.”

“Because…”

“He’ll be running the boundaries, probably right into the next county, checking everything out. He’ll be out all night. His clothes are in here.” She set the bag down. “Most of the pack are exhausted already. I’m wrapping things up.”

“That’s…kind of you?”

“Kind?” She didn’t bother with any kind of fake laugh. Just prowled close, her movements quick and controlled. Sam refused to flinch. “It’s my job. As Keirnan’s beta.”

Sam wanted to flinch at that, or his knees wanted to fold in on themselves, but he fought it. “I didn’t realize.” He frowned. “Oh, is your father Lorcan’s second-in-command? So you’d be Keir’s?”

“You saying I hitch a free ride?” she spat. “Don’t you fucking dare. I earn my way. Both with Chris—he might be the builder, remodelling ruins or old houses, but who do you think scouts the properties and gets him the loans he needs for his work, then markets them to sell on or rent out? And in the pack. Like I said, the majority are dropping now, but I’m not.” She stared down her nose at Sam again. “I’m not the one getting an entrée because I’m screwing the leader.”

“I wasn’t implying—”

“I was.” She took a step closer, and Sam smelled that same sour-animal odour he’d detected on Keir. “I used to. Screw Keirnan, I mean. You didn’t know that, did you? I wonder how much you do know about him.”

Sam wouldn’t let the gasp escape. “I know you’re all old friends.”

“Yeah, grew up together, and Keirnan and I were an item. I thought we’d mate.” She held eye contact with him, and Sam willed himself not to blink at the brilliant light in hers. It must have impressed her enough to carry on. “He couldn’t decide. Couldn’t settle. Here, there and everywhere. I waited for him when Lorcan sent him to the family in Ireland. Then when he came back, still the same. When he left for the States, no one knew when or if he’d be back. Chris and I started dating.”

“And the rest is hysteria,” Sam added.

“What? I’m hysterical, to you?”

“Not at all.” She was icy and precise, business-like, almost. “Daniella, you’re the equivalent of a deadly weapon. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t almost pissing myself here.”

She didn’t laugh or even acknowledge the admission. “Just wanted you to know. You need to know. I saw how clueless you were tonight. I wouldn’t have done that to anyone I was involved with. But, Keirnan, he’s not so good at the explanations and talking. Good at other things, though.”

She turned to go.

“Wait!” Sam felt there was more. She surely hadn’t come here just as part of her duties, just to check on things with him, had she? “If I wasn’t around, if Keir’s not involved with someone, as you put it, would things be different? For you? I know you’re married, but…with you being beta and all?” Why the fuck hadn’t he been studying the lore and customs of the society he was a guest in? “I don’t want to insult you by using non-PC terms.”

“Go on, city boy.” She licked her lips.

“Well, in human terms, it would be a, well, ménage?”

“A triumvirate? Yeah, unmated gray wolves do sometimes mate with the beta pair. Pair, yes. You heard that bit right. We’d be strong enough to support him. Dunno if a human would. Or maybe it depends on the human? Boo!” she suddenly exclaimed and Sam, despite his best efforts, recoiled. “We wouldn’t want him to be seen as a weakling, now would we?”

Her raised eyebrow, then her flinging of her mane over one shoulder, said the rest. She jumped down the stone staircase and ran along the gravel path and within seconds, Sam lost sight of her.

He fell into bed, clothed, hoping he wouldn’t dream of a bossy, scary beta snapping at him. He did, however, dream of a huge gray wolf, crackling with power, its fur bristling and its eyes alive and its muzzle stained with blood.