Die, I finished silently.
Our eyes met, and every muscle in my body tensed, ever so slightly.
Like your parents?
I didn’t move. Didn’t bat an eye. Didn’t give any visual cue to the fact that Chase’s voice was in my head. I also didn’t respond to his question.
They told you not to talk about your parents, he said silently, but technically, we’re not talking.
He understood. Thank God, he understood. Out loud, I said something else. “How did he bite you?”
“Throat first. Then stomach. It’s hard to remember. Everything went dark after that. I think I managed to throw him off, but he kept coming back. First my arms, then my legs—”
“Enough,” Sora said, cutting Chase off.
He stopped speaking, and the air around us seemed to shift, weighed down by the power of Sora’s command. I looked from Sora to Chase and back again, and that was when I realized—he had to listen to them, too.
Obey. Obey. The pack was to be obeyed.
“I hear you like art,” Chase said, probably under orders to make small talk instead of talking about being systematically disemboweled.
I nodded. “I used to.”
I thought of my exchange with Ali that morning, of the bit of myself I’d hidden far away, and for a split second, it began to crack, and with it came the intensity with which I’d wanted to ask these questions, the incredible, undeniable need to see him.
“What did you like to do, when you were … human?” That wasn’t the question I wanted to be asking, but I could practically feel my pack-bond as a leash around my neck, choking me, pulling me back from asking the things I really wanted to know.
You can fight this, a tiny voice whispered in the back of my head. Not Chase’s. Mine.
Fight.
Fight
Trapped.
Fight.
But I didn’t. I slowed my breathing and pushed back the panicked haze that threatened to descend on my body the moment I realized just how tight my metaphorical leash really was. A low whimper caught in the back of my throat, and I waited for Chase’s answer. For more than small talk. For whatever Callum—through his henchmen—would actually allow me to hear.
“Before the attack, I liked cars, Yeats, and having a lock on my bedroom door.” Chase paused, and behind his wry, self-deprecating grin, I saw an echo of the whine still caught in my throat.
Out.
Out.
Out.
We wanted out.
Chase’s eyes pulsed amber, and without a word, Lance walked over and put a firm hand on each of his shoulders. Forced him off the chair and to his knees.
A high-pitched sound escaped my throat, and Sora laid a hand lightly on my shoulder. She didn’t push. She didn’t force a confrontation, but as I leaned forward, her grip tightened, pulling me gently back.
“Look at me.” Lance growled the words, and on the floor, Chase responded. His body jerked once, twice, three times against Lance’s hold, and the smell of burning hair and men’s cologne filled the air. The smell wasn’t Chase. It wasn’t Stone River. It was something different, something foreign, and it was here.
One second I was sitting and the next, Sora had shoved me at Casey. “Get her out of here!”
But since the order hadn’t been directed to me, I didn’t have to obey, and Casey’s main concern seemed to be staring at Chase—staring and staring and daring him to come closer.
Pack. Not Pack. Pack. Not Pack. Pack.
The hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. I’d never seen anything like it before. Callum had made Chase a part of the Stone River Pack, but every wolf in the room was reacting like he was a stranger.
A foreign wolf on our lands.
A threat.
Mine, I thought.
A moment ago, I’d been talking to Chase.
He’d been in my head.
Even now, I could feel each spasm of his body in the corresponding muscles in mine.
“Chase. Look at me.” This time, Lance’s voice was low and soothing, but I felt the command behind the words, felt shades of Callum—alpha—in Lance’s tone.
Look at him, I begged Chase silently, sure it would help, but uncertain why. Look at Lance.
He did, and slowly, the scent of foreign wolf receded, until the only thing in this room was us.
Me, Chase, Casey, Sora, and Lance.
Pack.
“What just happened here?” I recovered my voice before the others found theirs. If I’d been paying attention, I might have noticed just how close to the edge Callum’s guards were.
How close they’d come to Shifting themselves.
“He’s in my head.” Chase’s voice was soft. Too soft. Any other girl wouldn’t have been able to make out the form of his words.
“Callum. The wolf. Both of them.”
It wasn’t Callum’s wolf that had flooded the room with a foreign scent, and it wasn’t Callum who’d put the haunted expression—empty and clear—in Chase’s eyes.
It was the Rabid.
If a Mark connected you to a werewolf, what did a full-blown attack do? There wouldn’t have been a ceremony, but …
“When the Rabid attacked you, did you feel it?” As far as stupid questions went, this one ranked pretty high, and I struggled to make myself clearer. “Did you feel it here?” I closed my fist and touched it gently to my chest. Casey still had a hold on my shoulder; otherwise, I might have moved and gone to Chase, who was still kneeling on the floor, to place my hand over his heart.
“I felt it everywhere,” Chase said, his simple words cutting into me like a knife to the stomach. “Sometimes, I still do.”
“I think that’s enough for today,” Sora said, and beside me, I felt Casey stiffen, his head dropping even as his spine snapped back. Sora had told him to get me out of there. He hadn’t.
Dominance lash-backs. They were enough to give a girl fits.
“Bryn, outside. Now.” Sora’s words took on the hollow tone of an order issued at half strength, and I got the sense that the kid mitts were more for Chase’s benefit than for mine. On the floor, Lance still had his hands on Chase’s arms, but instead of holding him down, he appeared to be holding the younger wolf up. Just looking at him, I felt Chase’s exhaustion, felt his muscles liquefy as the battle in his head subsided.
“I’m sorry.” I hadn’t planned on apologizing, but as Sora’s words compelled me toward the door, the apology came out of my mouth anyway. Chase had been in control. He’d been Callum’s. And something I’d said had ruined that.
“No sorry.” Chase’s voice was liquid, too, just like his muscles, fluid and flowing, one word running into the next as he closed his eyes. “Never sorry.”
I was almost to the door by then, and the urge to go back, to go to him, was overpowering.
Obey. Obey. Obey.
If I wanted to see Chase again, I had to obey now, and Sora had told me to leave. Slowly, I brought my hand up to the doorknob.
Bryn? Chase’s voice was a whisper in my mind, and the sensation sent a single chill up my spine.
Yes?
You asked what I liked, before. He paused, and the silence tickled my mind, the chill in my spine climbing its way to the hairs on the back of my neck. Before, I loved cars, Yeats, having a bedroom that locked from the inside, and you.
His words exploded in my brain, and if Casey hadn’t had a hold on me, I would have stumbled.
You didn’t even know me then. The part of me that still thought like a human would have rolled my human eyes at Chase’s declaration that he’d known me long before we’d ever met, but my pack-sense wouldn’t let me. Because deep down, Chase was Pack. He and I were the same, and there were situations in which you couldn’t expect a wolf—Were or otherwise—to understand the concept of time.
Glancing back over my shoulder, I opened the door and stepped outside, directly into Callum. I wasn’t sure when he’d gone out, or how much he’d been listening, only that he was waiting for me. Callum closed his arms around me, pulled me tight to his body, and held me the way Lance had held Chase—like I needed his support to stay vertical. Until I fell into his grasp, I hadn’t realized just how close I’d followed Chase to the edge of something dangerous and scary.