Xavier's Desire (Dragons Of Sin City Book 3) Page 24

  “You’ve turned your back on our ways,” Harold told her, his voice taking on a low, warning-growl note. “After you’ve been flogged, you’ll have a chance to think about who your allies are. You either renounce your mating with that wolf and consent to a mate of my choice in the clan, or you’ll be put to death.” Keira glanced at the others in the room; Tammy and Garrett looked uncertain, but Nathan and Brad were nodding along with Harold’s edict.

  “I’m bored,” Keira said, stretching in spite of the shiver of pain the movement sent through her spine. She had to appear as confident, as unconcerned as possible; she couldn’t let any of the people in the room with her know her fear. “Either go ahead and flog me now or leave me alone—I have a right to that as a member of this clan, under punishment or not.” Harold growled again, but stepped back, and Keira held his gaze for a long moment before looking away.

  A few moments later, his point proven, Harold left the room, taking the others with him, and Keira waited until even her preternaturally acute hearing couldn’t detect their footfalls before slumping against the wall they’d propped her against.

  Keira knew what to expect from her clan; they viewed her as a betrayer. She would receive the bare minimum until her punishment was carried out, and they’d probably isolate her on top of that, even after she was flogged. She closed her eyes, tugging at the silver binding her wrists and ankles. Whoever had been responsible for it had bound her tightly enough that escape would be difficult, and Keira smirked to herself; whoever it was would have had to have handled the silver without gloves to get it that tight. Hope it burned the hell out of them, the asshole. She bit her bottom lip as she tested the chains again and again, trying to find the least give in them. She had to get away; she had to get to Raul, and they both had to go to the Elementals. There was no way around it; they needed outside intervention, and if they went to the elementals they’d at least have protection. Please let him be in better shape than me, she thought. Let him be able to get free and get to the Elementals. There was no longer even a question of finding anyone in their respective groups to ally with—they were both on the outs. Keira paused in her struggles for the moment, taking slow, deep breaths. She would need to conserve her strength. She might get an opening when they unbound her to take her out onto the clan’s running lands for the flogging. There isn’t a panther in the entire clan who can take me if I do it right, she thought. Bide your time, Keira. Wait for your opportunity. Don’t be like one of those stupid wolves caught in a hunter’s trap and chew off your own leg to get free. Be smart. Keira tried to fall into a light doze, but the fear persisted: what if they waited until the silver completely sapped her strength? She couldn’t count on the clan—in its current fury—to stick with the legal ten lashes, or to not put her to death. Focus on getting out of here at the first opportunity. That’s the best thing you can do. Keira settled in to wait.

  ****

  “First priority for a captured soldier is to return to his unit…” Raul heard the words in his mind as he swam up out of unconsciousness; the rules, the priorities, the training the military had given him flowed through his mind in lectures that made him feel the midday sun on his scalp in memory. I’ve been captured by my own people; there’s no unit to return to. That was something the military hadn’t really trained him in; if his own unit had captured him, then he was a deserter—or a traitor. Just as Raul was sure the Pack viewed him. Some of the Pack at least, he amended mentally.

  Through a combination of the mental bond he shared with the Pack and his senses of hearing and smell, Raul knew that he was in the same shed he had found Keira, Gary, and Lachlan in before, and that—for the moment, at least—he was alone. He could feel silver burning at his wrists and ankles, the stinging tingle of it around his shoulders and knees as well. They were taking no chances with the Pack’s disgraced enforcer; that much was clear.

  Please let him be in better shape than me…let him be able to get to the Elementals… The tendril of Keira’s thought in his mind told Raul that at least his mate was alive; alive, and not actively being tormented, though he could sense she was every bit as restrained as he was, somewhere far away. The connection between them wavered and twisted; it was only the early days of their mating bond—they hadn’t solidified it yet, though they’d blooded each other. It would take weeks of contact between them to fully cement the bond they’d started. Assuming we get the chance, Raul thought bleakly.

  As the tentative, faltering connection waxed and waned, Raul turned his thoughts to his first priority: getting free. It was only too easy to imagine what the panthers had in store for Keira, and Raul knew that Reginald—now, seemingly, in control of the Pack once more—would be only too interested in getting rid of him for good. He had to go to the Elementals; it was the only way to ensure his and Keira’s safety. The bindings they’d put on him were too tight to get out of readily; and there would be no guarantee of someone on his side to help him.

  Cam, Raul thought. He could feel the mingled, mixed essences of his Pack-mates in his mind, and focused on his second-in-command. Cam hadn’t been at the ambush; Cam had also not been one of those members of the Pack involved in attacking the flophouse. While Raul knew that he couldn’t count on Cam to buck the chain of command—certainly his second wouldn’t go directly against Reginald—he thought he might be able to at least get Cam’s sympathy enough to convince the man to loosen the bindings slightly. That was all he needed; Cam didn’t need to be more involved than that, and at that it would be an act of mercy, a sympathy for a fellow Pack member and superior. Though technically I’m probably not his superior anymore, at least not in pecking order.

  Raul heard footsteps approaching the shed and opened his eyes, wanting to appear alert—but weak. He sagged against the pillar he’d been chained to, letting his arms go slack. If he looked weakened by the silver, whoever was coming to see him might underestimate his strength. Sad day when a wolf has to turn against his own Pack. What a damned clusterfuck this all is.

  Raul scented the air as the steps came closer; it was Reginald, coming to inspect his prisoner. Hope dwindled in Raul’s mind; Reginald would have no reason to take mercy on him. He might even be coming to take me out right now. He would have to wait for an opening; he would have to somehow persuade Reginald to give him a fair shot at defending himself or at least the option of going before the Pack to be judged.

  “You mated that hellcat,” Reginald said as soon as he stepped into the shed.

  “Seemed like the thing to do,” Raul said. “She was willing, and even you have to admit she’s pretty damned hot for a cat.” Reginald closed the shed door behind him, and Raul heard—underneath the surface noise—the sound of one of the members of the Pack moving into place to guard it.

  “She was marked for death,” Reginald said. The Alpha sat down a few yards away from him, shifting with a grunt; Raul could plainly see that the battles of the last few days had taken their toll on the man, in spite of the preternaturally fast healing that all shifters possessed. “You’re the one who busted her out; you can’t lie to me on that.” Raul considered and shrugged.

  “I wasn’t finished with her—the challenge was interrupted.”

  “You were a fucking dumbshit to go into that challenge in the first place,” Reginald said sharply. “And now you’ve mated her. Christ, Raul.” Reginald shook his head. “You’ve got women in the Pack throwing themselves at you, and even a bunch of mating-age females from other packs in the country, and you choose a fucking panther?”

  “Like I said,” Raul replied with a shrug, “she was willing, she’s hot, and it seemed like the thing to do.”

  “Her Alpha killed Mark last night,” Reginald said lowly. Mark was one of his nephews; Raul felt something in his stomach lurch at the thought.

  “You killed his son,” Raul pointed out, keeping his voice carefully level, his body language non-confrontational. “He wanted revenge. Pretty much his right.”

  “He started this m
ess,” Reginald told him, scowling. “I can’t believe you’d defend a damned panther over your own Alpha.”

  “According to him, we started it,” Raul said, shrugging again. “I was on the way to figuring out if his accusation had any merits to it when you two decided to grab Keira and me.”

  “What does that asshole cat say?”

  “He says that someone in the Pack killed a female he intended as a mate for his son,” Raul told him. “I have no idea if that’s true or not.”

  “You spoke with him?” Raul nodded.

  “That’s within my purview as enforcer,” he pointed out. “Keira brought me to him, to talk about the situation. This can’t go on, Reginald; even if you put me to death, there’s just going to be more and more trouble between the Pack and the Clan until there aren’t enough of either of us to keep going.”

  “This wouldn’t be a problem if everyone was pulling in the same direction,” Reginald said, scowling at him. “If you hadn’t gone maverick and busted the girl out of keeping, we’d have leverage over the fucking panthers. Instead there’s battle—and we’re going to be discovered if this keeps up.”

  “There would have been battle anyway,” Raul countered. “You murdered two members of the clan—one of them the Alpha’s son. Did you think they’d come to you peacefully after that?”

  “It was a show of our strength—a show you screwed up by getting one of them out.”

  “It was wrong,” Raul insisted. “It went against our by-laws, even if there were wolves that supported it. If you’d done things the right way, old man, the Pack and the Clan wouldn’t be in all-out war.”

  “They need to be taught a lesson,” Reginald said, his voice taking on a growling note, “and so do you.”

  “Oh, so I’m not going to be put to death then?” Reginald shook his head.

  “You’re going to wish you were dead though,” he told him. “You’re a traitor to the Pack, Raul. You’re not the enforcer anymore; you’re going to stay here for a full moon cycle, bound in silver, and you’re going to get rations.” Reginald smiled bleakly. “Short ones.” Raul nodded once, twice. It was both better and worse than he had expected; he would be miserable—he would be weak—but he wasn’t going to be put to death outright. “And three days after you complete your punishment, I am calling you out.” Reginald stood, shook his head, and turned away. Raul watched his Alpha leave, closing his eyes. Three days after being nearly starved and bound in silver would not be enough time for him to recover; Reginald meant to kill him—but he meant to do it in the most strictly legal way possible. He knows if he takes me out any other way, he’ll have half the Pack challenging him, Raul thought. He shook his head to himself; he would have to find a way to get free before time ran out. He would have to get to a safe place, and contact the Elementals. It would be the only way to stop the war, and the only way to keep himself and Keira safe. First rule of combat… he sank into a half-doze, his body buzzing with the pain of the silver that bound him, trying to think of ways to break free. Raul hoped against hope that Keira’s punishment was lighter than his; they would both need to be able to function, if they were going to have any hope of staying together, of living to see the war between their groups end.

  ****

  Keira’s body was on fire; she twisted and writhed, trying to find a position—any position—that offered even a little comfort from the blazing tingle of pain that lit up her nervous system. The flogging had been even more brutal than she’d expected. Harold had beaten her with willow—bad enough, with its water association, especially after three days of being bound in silver—and then someone in the clan had packed the wounds with violet oil, just to increase the pain. The oils had seeped into her skin, burning their way into her system, almost poisoning her.

  No one came to see her, locked away in Harold’s garage; she received meals from an impassive member of the Clan twice a day, but no one looked at her. She was being shunned, left to recover slowly, disconnected from the pulse of the clan’s thoughts in a misery of loneliness. It’ll be worse when they realize you’re pregnant, Keira thought absently, curling in on herself and hugging her knees. She wasn’t sure how long it had been since her flogging; she only knew that it had been more than a week since the clan had grabbed her from the flophouse. The pregnancy was early—her pheromones hadn’t yet shifted, Keira thought, or someone would have commented on it—but she could sense it, somehow; there was a full feeling deep down between her hips, and her period hadn’t arrived on its usual day.

  You have to get out of here before they find out, Keira thought, as firmly as her wandering, wondering mind would allow. If they find out you’re pregnant with a wolf’s child, you’ll be killed outright. For that matter, where was Raul? Keira groaned as she reached for his mind, trying to find the tenuous, flickering thread of his thoughts in the humming abyss. She couldn’t focus enough to connect with him, though she still had random glimmers; just enough to know he was still alive, that he was occasionally conscious and aware. She knew that he’d felt the pain of her beating—she had felt his trembling reaction in her own mind—but they hadn’t had enough opportunity to be able to reliably stay in contact.

  A fleeting, but all too vivid feeling of gnawing, stabbing hunger clenched Keira’s stomach; she gritted her teeth, breathing slowly. It was Raul—she knew it to be his mind, his sensations, his feeling of hunger, infecting her through their bond. Someone is starving him. Dull, throbbing anger began to simmer in Keira’s bones, and she heard herself growling in a low, continuous warning. Anyone who came near her in that moment courted a shredded hand, if not a destroyed arm. We have to make these bastards pay, Keira thought. No—we have to take Harold and Reginald out. The rest… she shook her head, ignoring the pain that flared through her body as the movement upset the injuries she’d sustained.

  They hadn’t bothered to bind her tightly—there was only the minimum of hold on her. In her weakened state, Keira knew that even the light, loose binds on her body—chains made of iron, tied to earth rather than water—were too much for her to overcome. The earth energy of the chains slowed her healing just as much as the violet oil in her skin did. I need to convince someone to douse me with water. I need to convince them to unchain me somehow. I need to get the hell out of here as soon as I can.

  Keira felt the bond between herself and Raul waver, ebb, wax, and then—with a jolt—all input from it was gone. She gasped, groping mentally, trying to focus enough to get some kind of impulse from him, some indication that he was aware and awake and there, where she needed him, in her mind; nothing came to her, and Keira groaned, burying her face against her shackled arms, shuddering even as the pain rippled through her body in reaction to her movement. Raul wasn’t dead—that much she knew—but the contact between them was gone.

  Hot, stinging tears formed in her eyes, and Keira tried to stifle her sobs as they rose in her throat. They won’t have to try and make me lure him in, she thought grimly. The contact is gone. He’s…he’s gone. She didn’t know where Raul was, but he wasn’t in her mind; he couldn’t feel her, and she couldn’t feel him.

  Keira shivered, hot and cold flashes lighting up her nervous system as she reacted to the sudden absence of Raul’s presence in her thoughts. She couldn’t think of what could sever even the tenuous link between their minds—it had to have been some kind of magic, something to cancel their bond. That must have been why they were starving Raul; to make him do something to break the bond between them, to bring him back into the fold. With her bond with Raul gone, there would be no reason for Harold to let her recover; there would be no reason to keep her alive in the hope of getting revenge on the wolves. With her dead, and Raul back in the Pack’s good graces once more, the wolves would decimate the panther clan; Raul would have no reason to hold back. Keira couldn’t even bring herself to regret it. Her own people had turned against her; she couldn’t make herself want to protect them if they wouldn’t side with her.

  Time passed without Ke
ira knowing how long it was, lost in the miasma of her grief. She heard footsteps—fast, but unsteady—outside of the garage. It wasn’t a member of the clan, that much she knew; her senses were duller than normal, but she sniffed at the air, trying to figure out who or what was approaching.

  The door to the garage opened and Keira turned her head, interested in an absent way. It’s one of the wolves, come to kill me. They’re doing Harold a favor. She caught the scent of an unfamiliar wolf—and then, like a white-hot jolt of electricity through her brain, she caught a scent she knew all too well: Raul.

  “W-what?” Keira rubbed at her eyes, clearing the lingering tears out of them; at that, she couldn’t quite believe what she saw. Raul limped quickly into the garage, another wolf at his side.

  “Good thing it’s iron,” the other wolf said. “Easy to take care of.”

  “Oh, god—Keira…” Raul dropped down next to her and kissed her hungrily on the lips. “We have to get out of here fast. Can you move?” Keira shivered.

  “For you, Fido? I can run,” she said, smiling weakly.

  ****

  “I have to get back,” Cam said. Raul nodded, glancing at Keira nervously in the back seat of the car. “Reginald…” Cam shrugged.

  “Reginald is courting his own disgrace,” Raul said. Cam half-shrugged.

  “He’s still got powerful backing in the Pack,” Cam pointed out. “Powerful enough that no one is going to call him out.”