Chapter Ten

CHAPTER TEN

ATLAS

T he wolves were covered in blood soaked rags that barely concealed them. Brutal claw and bite marks riddled their bodies. One guy cradled his arm close to his body, the gleam of bone visible even at the distance. Blood dripped down the neck of another, his throat looking ravaged, and Morgan wasn't sure how he was able to still breathe.

"What the hell happened?" She slipped past the guys and managed to get halfway down the steps before the others caught up with her. She walked past the pack of metal statues, casting them cautious looks, wondering if they'd had anything to do with their ransacked state.

"A difference of opinion." Louis lifted his chin…then grimaced when he took a step toward her, fresh blood soaking his pant leg. "They gave us a choice to either join them or die."

"What?" Shock nearly sent her stumbling down the rest of the steps, Ryder catching her arm before she could make a spectacle of herself, but she barely noticed. "Explain."

Louis released a heavy breath, his dark green eyes looking haunted, then his expression hardened and he lifted his chin. "I will explain everything, but first?—"

Louis dropped to one knee and bent his head. The rest of his people did the same, several looking like they collapsed more than anything. "We seek sanctuary."

Her mouth opened and closed a few times before her brain kicked in overtime and she narrowed her eyes, not sure if he was asking because she was the leader of the local coven or an alpha queen. She would not commit herself until she knew what it would all entail.

"I'm going to be blunt—just what are you expecting? Did you want to seek help from the Academy in an official capacity or assistance from the alpha queen?" Morgan hated asking for the clarification, feeling like an idiot, but there was a slight difference in what she could do for them depending on what he selected.

It annoyed her that there were no clear-cut rules about these things.

"And for god's sake, get up." She waved them to stand, something about seeing people kneeling making her shudder with unease.

Louis peered up at her, scanning her face, never once looking at her mates. A spark of hope had his spine straightening. "This is a shifter matter, where the Academy would be restricted in what aid they would be able to give. I ask for sanctuary from the alpha queen."

Morgan pursed her lips, then glanced at Caedmon and Ryder. "He said sanctuary, not assistance. What exactly does that mean?"

"Assistance means he needs your help in a certain matter, anywhere from siding with him against another pack to allowing him access to your territory or even settling a private dispute. In return, he would owe you a favor." Caedmon's yellow eyes didn't give a hint of emotion as he relayed the information. "Sanctuary is not reciprocal. He is asking you for protection against a greater force that wants to do them harm."

"So while the first option could be dangerous, the second is most definitely deadly. They're being hunted." Morgan turned toward Louis, tapping her fingers against her leg, itching for her blades.

The people he'd brought with him were beaten down, their spirits broken, and she knew if she refused his plea, they would likely die. Only a few even bothered to lift their heads, most of them focused on the ground, like the weight of the world was too much for them to bear. None of them had any belongings but the torn and bloodied clothes on their backs.

She couldn't get over the suspicion she was missing something important. While she might be to blame for what had gone down that morning, something hadn't been right with the wolves for a long while. She crossed her arms, refusing to give until she got some answers. "Maybe it's time someone tells me what's really happening for a change."

Louis looked uncertain, shifting on his feet. The rest of the wolves he had with him remained silent in a way that was only possible for a supernatural. They didn't shuffle their feet, didn't glance at each other. She didn't think some of them were even breathing.

It made the hairs on the back of her neck lift. "I can't help if I don't know what the hell is wrong."

Ryder cleared his throat, stepping up to her side. "To share information about the pack with an outsider is a death sentence."

"But am I an outsider?" Morgan glanced at him, then Caedmon. "They summoned me like I was pack. I have a pack of my own." She lifted her arm, indicating the blood red moon etched into her arm. "What does this mean then if I'm not part of the pack?"

The red hunter moon on her arm shimmered under the attention of the shifters, shadows from unseen clouds swirling across the surface. The last thing she expected was for every single wolf to drop to one knee once again, their heads bowed in submission.

Hell if a couple of them didn't release a whine from the back of their throats.

A few people from her pack stepped out of the shadows, arms crossed, scowls on their faces as they stood guard over the other shifters. She practically felt their disapproval and aggression at having a strange pack on their land.

The sight of them kneeling before her made her skin crawl, and she backed up a step, fighting the urge to head back into the coven and slam the door behind her.

"Nope, get up." She reached out and nudged Ryder. "Make them stop."

His eyebrows rose, a tiny smile kicking up the corner of his mouth. "They're showing you their respect and loyalty."

"It's freaky, that's what it is." She huffed at him in annoyance. "No one should have to bow to another."

All humor vanished from his face, his expression tightening. "Maybe for humans, but shifters are different. We're both more than human and less, depending on who you ask. While we might be able to contain our beasts and pretend to be human, we're not—not deep underneath. We're just cages for our beasts. As much as you want to believe that we're a polite society, we're not. Nor will we ever be. We need rules and laws and alphas to keep us in line."

Caedmon grabbed her arm and turned her to face the wolves. "Without someone to keep them in check, they would lose their humanity and their beasts would take over. Fights would break out, not only between each other, but the humans as well. They would see them as weaker. See them as prey. They would decimate the human population. No one would win the resulting war." Darkness swam in his yellow eyes at the horrors he'd witnessed.

Morgan looked closer at the wolves that were pushed below the surface.Power rose off both packs in waves. It was wild, almost like a living creature all on its own, but that's where the similarities ended.

Her pack was volatile, two different types of magic battling with each other. One magic was dark and a little wild, flavored with their bloodthirsty werewolf side. The other was more subdued, though not any less dangerous, just cautious, hunkered down and waiting.

Werewolves touched by the loup garou strain were the much more dominant of the two. They didn't have the same restraint as the shifters. So she was shocked it was their wolf that kept the beast in check. If it came down to a fight, the werewolves would easily slaughter the wolves. They had a balance that the other pack was missing.

While her pack was more beast than man, the other pack had access to only half the magic. The wolf magic was different from what she used, mutated and altered somehow. When they were cut off from the other realms many centuries ago, they were able to adapt to the human world when other species had died out.

But something was now wrong with that magic.

Instead of being bright and vibrant, the strands of magic were muddied, almost polluted. Some were better than others, fighting the effects, but they were suffering just the same.

It was like they were sick.

Or tainted somehow.

She blinked away the vision, then glanced at Caedmon. "What's wrong with them?"

"We're turning feral." Louis slowly rose to his feet, as if coming to the decision to trust her, and his pack followed his lead. "It's not natural. We're not succumbing to heartbreak. It's like someone is taking our magic from us. Without our magic to keep us human, our baser instincts take over and we eventually lose our humanity and turn completely wolf."

He ran a shaky hand through his hair, looking like he aged ten years as he spoke. "The change is not normal. Turning feral usually takes months, if not years. Our wolves fight the transition. Fight to stay alive. Being around the pack normally helps, but a couple of months ago, things had changed. Wolves would go to bed fine and wake up feral. And it's spreading.

"It hit the smaller packs first, slowly consuming them until they were turned. The alphas ordered the rest of us back to the Assembly, hoping a large pack would stave off the worst of the effects." Louis grimaced, his fists clenched at his sides. "But things just got worse. It's like the alphas are siphoning power away from the rest of the pack."

Disgust curdled her stomach. She was unable to imagine sitting back and doing nothing while her pack was being destroyed. Just the thought of her pack in danger sent her magic whirling in agitation.

It would be physically impossible for her to do nothing.

"Without an alpha to lead them, the pack will turn wild." Ryder slipped his hand into hers, his fingers clutching hers tight, and she realized he spoke from experience. He hadn't had a pack before they met. She could only imagine how difficult it must have been to stand alone.

"What about Louis?" She gestured toward the man in question.

"I'm alpha enough to hold a small pack, but something is attacking us on a level that I can't fight." Repressed fury sparked in his green eyes, and they glowed brightly as his wolf rose to the surface. "I'm doing my best to keep my pack safe, but the weaker I grow, the faster it spreads. I thought the Assembly would be able to help, but they underestimated how many shifters were affected. Bringing us all together just made it spread faster, like some disease."

Morgan nibbled on her lip, glancing over the wolves who came to her for help, and her stomach sank. "I'm at a loss as to how I'm supposed to be able to protect you. I'm the coven leader, so I'm obligated to investigate anything that threatens the paranormal community. You can stay here and I'll keep you safe from the alphas, but I'm not sure how to reverse the effects of going feral."

Ryder tightened his grip on her hand, and she glanced at him. "There is no way to cure anyone once they turn feral. The only thing you can do is hunt them down before they have a chance to hurt or infect anyone with lycanthropy."

"No." She yanked her hand from his grip and glared at him. "That's unacceptable. "

A muscle ticked in Ryder's jaw, and he raked his shoulder length hair away from his face, a growl rumbling from him. "If we do nothing, people will die. It would be a disaster if shifters are exposed to the human world. The paranormal community would see it as a threat and hunt all shifters to extinction, whether feral or not. Because if shifters are real, what else might exist? They won't take the risk."

Morgan wished she could say she was surprised at what extreme the paranormals would go in order to protect themselves, but they'd done that and worse throughout history.

"Then we tranq them and bring the ferals back here. The tunnels where the wendigo lived are still standing. There are more than enough holding cells there to keep them safe until we can find a way to help them."

Silence settled over the group, every eye on her, and Morgan lifted her chin, refusing to back down. "They wanted my help, and I'm giving it the only way I know how. I won't condone mass murder for something that is not their fault. Someone is setting up the shifters to be exterminated. First the shifters, then who's next? Hellhounds? Gargoyles?"

As she spoke, more and more of her pack emerged from the trees.

Wendigo that would've been put down just for being infected.

How could she do any less for the shifters?

"I won't ask any of you to join?—"

"We'll do it." Louis stepped forward as he spoke. "Wolves are natural hunters. We can track the ferals better than anyone else."

"How?" Because as much as she wanted to accept their help, she didn't want to put them in even more danger. "If you step foot off pack lands, the Assembly will have you killed."

"They would have to catch us first." Louis flashed her a cocky smile. "Let us worry about the wolves, hunting and evading is what we do best. When the other packs find out what we're doing, they'll allow us to pass. Just figure out who's doing this to us and stop them."

"And if you turn?" Ryder crossed his arms and glared down at the other alpha. "You'll be no good to anyone."

"They'll be fine." MacGregor and Mistress McKay walked around the side of the house, both prepared for battle, the rest of the pack following closely. "These lands are protected. Generations of witches have put their magic into them, including our Morgan. That's no small thing. Just being here will help them heal."

"He's right." Caedmon turned toward her and gestured toward the werewolves. "It's part of what helped us hold out so long. It helped us heal, and a good portion of that was thanks to you. It's our turn to help now. The loup garou have been training. This would be the perfect opportunity for them to venture into the outside world. Not to mention, they are stronger than the wolves. They would be an asset in retrieving the ferals alive."

She wanted to protest that they weren't ready and needed more time to settle into their new lives. When Kincade rested his hand on the small of her back, her protest died on her lips. He leaned closer and whispered in her ear. "They can do this. They need to prove to you and themselves that they are capable of surviving being turned."

She bit the inside of her lips to prevent herself from saying something she would regret. She felt responsible for the werewolves, wanted to keep them safe, but she knew keeping them chained to her was not the answer.

She glanced at the werewolf pack she considered hers. Each one met her gaze directly, their spines straightening under the attention. Eagerness made their eyes shimmer and glow, a reminder that while they might look human, it was a lie.

"Very well, but we will go out together." A cheer went up through the loup garou , not only for the chance to hunt, but that she believed in them, pride making their chests puff out. While some looked a little nervous to leave their safe haven, the majority were excited to prove themselves.

Morgan turned back toward the wolves, then tipped her head to the side. "While retrieving the ferals alive is our main goal, we need to catch the people responsible and stop them. Who would want to turn wolves feral? And why? Do wolves have a natural enemy? Are only wolves being affected or all shifters?"

She was determined to find out who was turning shifters and stop them before the Alpha Assembly tried to come after her and her men again.

"As far as we know, only wolves are being targeted," Louis said, tension leaving his shoulders at her willingness to help. "And while vampires are not our biggest fans, it's never gone beyond a few skirmishes over territory. They've retreated over the centuries, preferring to live secluded from the rest of the supernatural world. We don't have any natural enemies."

Morgan gulped at the mention of vampires. Though she'd hunted all sorts of species over the years, she'd never dealt with vampires directly. They were said to be a brutal, vicious people. Thankfully, they policed their own species so ruthlessly, she'd never been forced to deal with them.

"I haven't heard reports of feral attacks." She glanced at her men, and they shook their heads. "So that either means they're smarter than we give them credit, or something is controlling them."

A furrow appeared between Ryder's brows. "Ferals are not like wolves or shifters. They're killing beasts. Their only goal is food and fucking, sometimes both at the same time. They don't normally run in packs either. They show no fear or hesitation. Anything that they run across that has a heartbeat falls into one of those categories."

She swallowed hard when his beautiful amber eyes darkened with horror as memories of being attacked and turned by his own father rose to the surface. Morgan clenched her hands into fists, thankful Ryder had managed to survive.

"So someone has the means to control them." Her attention snapped toward the wolves when one of the shifters stumbled to remain upright, and she grimaced at their state. "Most of you don't have to be here for this discussion."

She scanned the group around the house, her eyes landing on MacGregor. She tipped her head at him in silent communication, and he gave a nod of agreement before she turned back toward Louis. "Anyone who needs medical attention, food, or rest, please go with MacGregor. He'll get you settled. Caedmon, Louis, and the rest of us will head inside to discuss our next step.

When the wolves hesitated, Louis waved for them to go. While the majority seemed relieved at the offer of help, a few appeared apprehensive.

Not that she could blame them.

Their alphas were supposed to protect them, and they'd failed, going so far as to sacrifice them to save themselves.

She had a feeling the Assembly wouldn't be very forgiving that she offered the wolves sanctuary. With that thought, she reached out and touched one of the metal wolves. Sunlight gleamed off their hides, resembling liquid mercury in motion, and she was awed at how they were able to retain their shape. She almost expected her fingers to pass through them, but cool metal warmed by the sun met her fingertips. They turned toward her, reacting like they were one creature, their blank eyes a little eerie. "Protect."

They sprang into action without hesitation. Ten of them headed to stand guard at the perimeter, only the slight sound of metal on metal heard as they vanished into the tree line. There was no heartbeat, no breathing, no sound of leaves rustling or twigs snapping.

They were like ghosts.

Two wolves loped up the steps, slipping around her men. They took up positions on either side of the porch before stilling. They looked so much like statues once more that she would swear they turned back if it weren't for the slight splash of power that rested at their core.

Loki and the last wolf approached MacGregor, then seemed to take up residence on either side. MacGregor looked fascinated by the creature, his faded blue eyes sparkling with curiosity. Then he cleared his throat and waved to the wolves with an impatient gesture and harrumphed. "Well, come along if you're going to come. We only have a few cabins out back, so you're going to have to share until we can have more built."

A couple of the wolves looked toward Louis for reassurance, and the alpha nodded. She expected the wolves to be freaked out by the display with the metal beasts, but almost all of them either nodded to the statue or reached out to touch it reverently.

She hadn't been aware of Louis approaching until he spoke.

"The statues are considered guardians, some of our greatest warriors cast in metal to watch over the packs. They're revered among the packs. Some say that they would come alive and protect the Assembly if they were ever threatened. Besides kid stories, I don't think anyone ever truly believed the myths." Louis came to a stop next to her, staring at her instead of the statues. "It was like they sensed your need and were just waiting for you to wake them."

"Don't do that." The reverence and awe in the way he watched her gave her the willies, and she stepped away from him. "Don't look at me like I'm something special. I'm good with metallurgy, not wolves."

Her words only seemed to reaffirm his belief. The corner of his eyes crinkled, not quite a smile, as if amused by her denial. "Yet they are wolves and came at your call. That means something."

He didn't wait for her to respond before walking up to one of the wolves and resting his hand on the creature and bowing his head.

A tlas bit back a growl at the panicked look that flashed across Morgan's face, wanting to skin the fucker for upsetting her. He knew he should pull back his emotions, not let the darkness in him take control, but he was beginning not to care about the rules by which he had been raised, not when Morgan relished his darkness.

Instead of looking at him like he was a disappointment or a dangerous freak that should be chained up, love brightened her gorgeous violet eyes in a way that made him want to kiss her senseless and lay claim to her again and again.

Before Morgan could freak out, he stepped toward her and slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her toward his chest. He cursed that the move was clumsy and rough, the show of affection in front of others making him feel awkward. He held still, waiting for her to pull away with a displeased scowl. It was only when she curled against him that the tightness in his spine eased a fraction.

He glared at the fucker over her head, thinking of the ways they could dismember the wolf. If he didn't think it would upset Morgan, he would present her with the wolf's pelt as a rug. Only when she sighed and brushed her cheek against his chest did he let go of his murderous thoughts and brushed his chin on the top of her head.

And caught Draven smirking at him.

He bit back a huff at the knowing look, the little hypocrite.

Like the fucker hadn't been thinking the same exact thing.

"Come." He tightened his hold around Morgan for a second, reluctant to release her when she was pressed up against him, so warm and tempting. Then he stepped away. "We need to make a plan on how we're going to track and hunt the ferals."

Her whole body sagged when she sighed, then she straightened and patted his chest before she entered the house. He remained close, a silent shadow, not liking that there were so many strangers in their territory.

As everyone settled around the study, he kept close to Morgan, basking in the smell of sunshine that lingered on her skin. He absently reached up and brushed his thumb across the Celtic knot etched on his chest, and the mating mark thrummed under the attention, like she'd just reached up and ran her hands over his body.

He peered down at her where she was leaning against the edge of the desk, a growl rumbling in his chest, and a satisfied smile curled his lips when she shivered, a hint of her lust filling his senses. Ryder's head snapped up at the delicious aroma, his beast catching the scent, his eyes locking on Morgan, and he licked his lips like she was a feast that he could almost taste.

The rest of the guys weren't in much better condition, each of them edging closer toward her, seeking her attention.

Not that Morgan ever neglected them in any way.

They were just greedy fuckers.

"Stop it," Morgan muttered it under her breath, shooting a glare at him over her shoulder, but it was the way that she shifted her legs that made a smug smile tug at his lips. Knowing that he could do that to her without even touching her finally eased the itch under his skin at having other males around his mate.

His eyes turned toward Caedmon, watching the loup garou closely, but the other fae kept his emotions firmly locked away. If he hadn't been trained from birth to notice the slightest reactions, he would've missed the way the werewolf gripped his leg, the way his fingers whitened just slightly.

While part of him wanted to challenge the man for daring to look at his mate, Atlas bit back the impulse. Fae were very sexual creatures, often sharing multiple partners throughout their long lives, usually only settling down when they found their mate.

He'd grown accustomed to the others, knowing that Morgan needed each of them to keep her safe.

They'd become like a family.

It was different with Caedmon.

It felt like the man was challenging him for his place. As much as he revered the ancient fae lord, there was no fucking way in hell he was giving up his claim. If Caedmon wanted to court Morgan, the werewolf would have to learn how to share.