Nell flicks on the lamp at my bedside, muttering something about going to fetch me some tea. I decline politely and she dips her head, seeing herself out with my suit and undergarments in tow. Beside the doorframe, a blanket and pillow have been laid out on the wood floor.
“You’re sleeping out there?”
On a shallow breath, he backs away from the threshold, smacking his head against the top of the doorway. It must be aggravating, constantly reminding himself to duck. A problem that most males never encounter. “Be sure and keep your door locked,” he grunts.
As if I'd take any chances . . .
“Right. Well, in that case, goodnight.”
Promptly flicking the lock in place, I release a sigh that I’ve been repressing for hours. First thing tomorrow, I’ll rinse off. For now, I drag myself into bed. Leaning back against the pillows, I exhale once more into the throbbing silence, wracking my brain for a plan. If Axe is half as intense as I suspect he is, I’m going to need one to pass the probing attempts that are in my foreseeable future. I’ll need to disguise my nerves and be mindful of my physical tells, maintaining a steady heartbeat. I’ll need to harness the skill that actors are best known for. Lying.
My train of thought is disturbed by the sound of crunching snow outside, just below my window. Peering out into the dimly lit pack grounds, I spy a set of footprints leading to the floor right under my bedroom.
Someone else has just learned of Axe’s new guest.
Chapter 7
AXE
Four brick walls seal me in. If I don’t act in the next few seconds, they will entomb me.
Her screams are endless, as piercing as the flames are ravenous. Terror surges at the realization that I can’t move. I can’t get to her, nor can I get out. Sweat creeps down my temples. I open my mouth, throat raw with desperation. The sob that escapes is nothing more than a gargled gasp.
Sprawled along the hardwood floor, I blink rapidly, eyes adjusting to the darkness. My throat is parched, as if I crammed it full of cotton balls. I thrash my limbs, pry at my jaw, but it’s futile. I’ve been betrayed by my own body. Meanwhile, my mind has drifted to the place between waking and sleeping. The hell of my memory.
On restless nights like these, sometimes it feels like my lungs are still filling with smoke, eardrums ringing from my mother’s cries. The red-tinted nightmare plays on a loop, paralyzing me for hours, rendering me as useless as I was the night I witnessed my pack plunge into fiery chaos. Some nights, I welcome those glimpses of violence, allowing them to rev the engines of my rage and fuel my purpose.
One day, I will deliver retribution to the deranged monster who slaughtered my people. I will scorch the Blood Master with the same hellfire he raised inside me.
Behind the door, the human is deep in slumber. The sound of her faint sighing coaxes me to shut my eyes. Blackness scatters as my thoughts drift to earlier this morning, the exact moment I knew that nothing would ever be the same. The shape of a dainty woman with honey-brown eyes materializes, along with the sadness written across her beautiful features. Watching her in my jacket overlooking the frozen stream . . . I couldn't help but take a minute to drink her in, allowing the maddening scent to sync with her image.
I wonder when it last was that she felt the sun on her face. If I could possibly be that for her. But how could I when I was baptized in violence? When storms of fury are all I’ve ever known? I’ve never shown my heart to anyone.
Because I can’t afford to.
I holdmy head held high while supervising the grunts on their first drill of the day at zero-four hundred. Despite my best efforts, an eagerness to lay eyes on Vessa grows as the morning sludges onward. By the time I barrel down the stairs to my office at zero-seven hundred, my wolf is panting like I just finished a relay race.
I try to ignore the ache in my teeth. The way my palms itch to touch her. Fuck. I never should’ve let myself get that close last night. Even if my only intention was to smother what was left of that piece of shit’s scent on her skin.
Wincing at the knot in my neck, I straighten the stack of papers containing our monthly spending reports and flip overthe next document. This year’s census. Just by the first glance of territory numbers, I can already gather that it’s not going to be a pleasant document to read.
Fiddling with a cube puzzle next to me is my Beta, tipped back in his chair as the latest update for our pack-wide cybersecurity installs. I raise the warm coffee mug to my mouth, thankful that the caffeine is slowly starting to rouse me. The moment of contentment is short-lived.
The door to my study is flung open by my Sentinel. Sweat gleams over his face and neck. The result of sparring with recruits for three consecutive hours.
“At ease,” I say plainly.
Qinnu doesn’t bother to return the greeting. “Who is she?”
“She is our guest,” I state before swallowing another gulp of black coffee.
A corner of his mouth twitches. “This is no ordinary human. It smells like you brought home a witch.”
Jabir sets down the cube, leveling the warrior with a cold glare.
I straighten behind the desk. “So what if I did?”
There are many aspects of the Alpha role that I don’t particularly enjoy, including being a full-time referee. Taking charge of one hundred thirty wolves requires grit and humility, and temperamental outbursts are merely a hazard of the job. It’s not a position anyone in their right mind should envy, though over my rotting corpse would I ever give it up. I was born for one purpose: to protect Bleeding Sun from all enemies, human or demonic.
