Chapter Twelve

CHAPTER TWELVE

KINCADE

T he packs working together managed to catch two more wolves in less than five minutes. Morgan scanned the area, searching for the last wolf, a trickle of unease skating down her spine.

Like she was being watched.

Hunted.

A flash of movement from the corner of the cabin caught her attention, and she barely had time to whirl when a wolf charged directly at her, dirt kicking up under his massive paws. Just as his muscles bunched, ready to leap, Loki burst out from the tree line and slammed into the creature with enough force to send it crashing into the cabin.

Arthur leapt off the porch with an agility that belied his age, and she frowned in confusion, not sure how she could have forgotten about him so easily when he was standing right next to them.

Again.

But she was quickly distracted by the sound of wood groaning, then it snapped under the impact. The feral dropped to the porch with a meaty thump, a painful yelp escaping him, his legs scrambling as he tried to get to his feet .

Loki didn't hesitate to charge up the stairs after his prey, his wings tight against his back, and step on the creature's neck. No matter how much the feral tried to bite and claw to get free, Loki remained firm, his leathery skin hardening to stone, leaving him without a scratch.

To her shock, Loki was almost the same size as the feral. While the feral was taller, Loki had more mass. When the feral continued to struggle, Loki locked his jaw around the creature's throat and gave a vicious growl. The feral instantly stilled, slumping back down in defeat. Then Loki turned toward her, his red eyes glowing with pride, a dopey smile on his face, and his tongue lolling out.

She wasn't sure if she should scold him for disobeying or kiss him for his bravery.

Draven nudged Loki away, praising him with pets, the gardog preening under the attention. Atlas and Ascher easily secured the last feral. Morgan glanced around the clearing, awed at how easily the two groups managed to work together.

A few of the wolves and most of the loup garou shifted back to their human forms, grabbing sweatpants from the backpack someone had the foresight to bring. Those who remained in their beast form stood guard, continuously checking the perimeter, and she was impressed by their teamwork.

She expected more pushback and infighting between the groups. She stepped closer to Ryder, mentioning it to him as the rest of her mates slowly drifted closer.

Ryder glanced around the group, then shrugged like it was no big deal. "No need to fight when dominance is clearly established. Wolves are different than loup garou . Just like at the Academy, witches are different from the assassins. There is a clear divide between the two."

She stiffened at the reference. Though things were changing, her time at the Academy hadn't always been pleasant. Elitism was a thing, where students would punish those they thought were beneath them. Weaker than them. The cruelty of their caste system put her teeth on edge .

Her gaze sharpened as she surveyed the groups, magic snapping at her fingers with her agitation. When she saw no snap of teeth or swipe of claws, her hackles slowly lowered. The two groups actually worked in tandem, each helping the other.

Ryder stepped in front of her and nudged her chin up until all she saw was him. His whisky eyes warmed under her regard, a tiny smirk flashing as he pressed his forehead against hers. "I was talking about you. You're the alpha queen here. Wolves are pack creatures. They're used to taking orders. They crave it. You gave them an order, and they're happy to obey."

Her stomach twisted in unease at the simple statement.

The power she held over others.

She didn't like it.

One wrong move, one wrong choice?—

Ryder gripped her chin, the pinch of pain helping her focus, and her attention snapped back to him. The stern expression on his face was so different from the way he normally looked at her that she was mesmerized. "They're here because you saved them. You're showing them a better way to live. You're giving them hope, something that many of them never dreamed possible. Given a choice of their old life or you, they'd gladly pick you. Wolves need the pack to thrive. Without it, they won't survive."

"He's right." Ascher came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, the heat of him seeping into the chill that had taken up in her bones. Unable to help herself, she lightly traced the obsidian mating marks that trailed down his arm, loving the way he shivered at her touch. Ryder dropped his hand from her face but didn't retreat, leaving her sandwiched between the two men.

Ascher leaned down, his lips coming to rest against her ear as he nuzzled the side of her face. "While most alphas are decent, power has a way of warping people over time. Some alphas thrive on the violence and cruelty. When the wolves see you with the pack, they know you're different, that you would lay down your life to protect them. "

More and more people gathered around them as they overheard the discussion. Atlas came to a stop next to Ryder. Even in the light, there was a slight lavender tint to his skin that she adored, a slight tell that his dander was up.

He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, letting the strands slide through his hand as he pinned her with his dark green eyes that reminded her of Ireland. "You lead with your heart. It's what drew us to you in the first place. You've seen the darkness of the world, but it hasn't tainted you. You fight against it with everything you've got. You are a true assassin, through and through. You never waver, never back down. You stand fast against the darkness, a bright beacon of light to those who are lost. It's why we love you."

Well, damn!

Tears burned the back of his eyes at his impassioned speech. She'd swear it was the most she'd heard him say at one time, and it melted her heart. She reached out, resting her hand against the mating mark on his chest, allowing the overwhelming feeling of love she felt for him to vibrate between them.

He fucking growled, his lips drawing back to reveal sharp little fangs. Her nails bit into his chest as she fought the need to pull him closer and take him up on the offer to prove his love.

From the heated look in his eyes, he would do it too.

He didn't give a fuck about the audience.

The only thing that mattered to him was her.

Then she sighed. As much as she wanted him, they had to get the ferals secured. Needing one last feel of him before she pulled away, she ran her hand down his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles, then patted his chest, loving the way his tight muscles clenched under her hand.

The guys reluctantly released her, and her legs wobbled, already missing their nearness.

She bit her lip to hold back a grimace when she saw the two packs watching her with wide-eyed fascination, like they could feel the pheromones in the air. They didn't react with lust like she expected .

It was the hint of longing in their eyes that captured her.

A yearning for a mate of their own.

And her heart cracked.

Her resolve firmed to do whatever was in her power to keep them alive long enough for them to find their own mates.

The wolves and loup garou straightened under her regard, bowing their heads in submission, averting their eyes and baring their necks in a show of respect. A few of them went so far as to kneel, but Draven hauled them back to their feet, thank the goddess, and she smiled at him in appreciation.

It wigged her out to see people kneeling to her.

That wasn't how she wanted to run her pack.

A few of the wolves looked seconds away from freaking out, trembling so badly, she expected them to pass out, as if they would be punished for not prostrating themselves, but the siren's touch calmed them.

She could kiss Draven for his compassion.

And she would later, when she got him alone.

His head snapped up, his nostrils flaring, his gaze shooting toward hers as if sensing her silent promise, and his stormy eyes darkened with a promise of his own.

Caedmon stood in the back, wearing only a pair of sweats, his arms crossed as he gazed at nothing but her, his yellow eyes shimmering with some emotion she couldn't name. Her mouth went dry. Even in his human form, the fae was impressive, all sleek muscles and pale skin, his black hair hanging halfway down his back.

He looked like a god ready to conquer anyone who stood in the way of what he wanted, and she shivered at the fanciful thought. She scratched the moon symbol on her arm, and it took more effort than it should to tear her eyes away.

"Let's secure the ferals in the caves." She glanced in the direction the bird had disappeared, shadows falling over the trees as the sun began its descent. She didn't trust that the owner wouldn't come looking for them. She would not allow them to take the wolves back. "I want to be home before dark. "

More than half of the shifters bowed, and everyone leapt into action.

She turned back toward the cabin, then stopped dead when she saw Arthur leaning against the porch post, looking at them with a bemused expression on his face.

Fuck!

She'd forgotten him.

Again.

She narrowed her eyes, watching his eyebrows climb up his forehead, and he slowly straightened, an amused smirk playing around his lips.

Almost challenging.

What the hell?

She noted the changes to him since she'd last seen him. He was in better shape, the paunch gone, his back straighter. His thin hair looked longer, fuller even. His faded green eyes were more vibrant, a fierceness to them that belied his age. A savage pride shone in them as he gazed at her, and a strange warmth filled her chest at his regard.

He almost seemed to be waiting for her order.

She rubbed her chest, the crescent moon right below her collarbone—the symbol of Nyx, the mother of all gods—began to tingle, a strange fire spreading through her veins.

Morgan turned slowly, her senses sharpening as she searched for a threat, while her g et the fuck out of here senses screaming.

"Let's head out," she called to the packs, ready to be gone from this place.

She scanned the area again, but the air was tainted with too much magic. It rose from the ferals like a foul smell that invaded her sinuses, and she couldn't seem to track it back to any source.

The whole lake area was inundated with a strange power that she really hadn't come across before, and she didn't like not knowing what was setting off her Spidey senses.

She turned back toward the old man, then sighed. "I'm sorry, but I don't think it's safe for you to remain here alone, not until we can clean up this mess. We can wait for you to pack a bag. Do you have somewhere you can go? You mentioned a grandson?"

He scratched his jaw, the rasp of stubble loud when he finally shook his head, his brows furrowing. "My grandson is visiting his in-laws this week."

While she would normally avoid taking the risk of involving a human in their business, Arthur had already become mixed up with them. She rubbed the back of her head and sighed in defeat. "Go get your bag. You can stay with us for now."

The cantankerous old man harrumphed in annoyance as he headed to pack. She almost suspected he wanted to stay if it weren't for the flash of satisfaction and excitement that shimmered in his eyes at the chance to join them. Her gaze sharpened, but he turned away before she could be sure.

It didn't take more than a minute for the old coot to grab a small duffle, his steps almost light as he pranced down the nearly destroyed steps. He looked younger than she remembered, almost like being thrown into the paranormal world had breathed life into him or something.

It had been known to happen.

The thrill of the hunt, a new adventure.

She just hoped she didn't get him killed by taking him with them. The shifters gathered the ferals up, some tossing the struggling beasts over their shoulders, while others took two shifters to carry the squirming bodies.

When the loup garou neared, they seemed to settle, almost docile, and she made a mental note to dig into that further when they got back. The trek home was faster, cutting their time down to almost half, and not a moment too soon.

They barely made it back to the tunnels before the sun dipped below the horizon. MacGregor and Louis had cleaned out the cave as best they could, placed fresh water and food inside the cages. The scent of brimstone and fire still lingered in the tunnels, even after all the time that passed, and she suspected the smell had been seared into the very rocks.

The ferals were placed one to a cage, their bindings released, and the bar doors quickly slammed shut before they could attack. They paced the confined space like large predators at the zoo. Some roared, others pawed at the ground, a couple devouring the food. Only a few threw themselves at the bars, the thud of their bodies hitting metal ringing in her ears.

"Leave them." MacGregor pulled her away, drawing the ferals attention.

It was eerie the way their eyes latched onto her, then they stilled and calmed. They seemed curious, sanity returning to their eyes just enough that they settled down.

"Come." His grip was inescapable as he drew her away. "Let's leave them to get settled."

Morgan dug in her feet, not wanting to go yet. "But I need to scan them, try and find the source of who was turning them. They?—"

"They will be here in the morning." He refused to relent, dragging her along, despite her protests. "Give them the night to rest. Let the magic of the coven soak into them a bit more. You'll learn more from them after they've rested. The guards will keep watch and let you know instantly if something is wrong."

And as much as it broke her heart to leave them, he was right.

"I'll take care of them," Stanley said, emerging from the shadows and strutting into view with a swagger that sent his tail swooshing.

Morgan glanced at the ferals, who could easily eat the cat in one bite and frowned. "Are you sure? It took a whole pack of wolves to subdue them.

"I've fought worse in the other realms. They will be like watching kittens." Stanley snorted, sat nonchalantly in front of the cages and gave the ferals a cool, unimpressed look, then began cleaning his paws. "Besides, the caves are filled with spiders, mice, bats, and whatnot. I'm having the time of my life exploring the tunnels. If they're hungry, I'll just bring them something to eat. They'll have fun chasing the critters if they get bored. "

Morgan recalled the first time she'd seen the cat—he'd been patrolling the dungeons of a fae castle. Stanley was a scamp and fully capable of taking care of himself. The caves probably felt like home to him. She took a step away, then halted. "If you're sure."

"Go. Go. We'll be fine." Stanley just flicked his claws at her, his ears twitching when a pebble clinked in the darkness. His yellow, slightly feral eyes gleamed, and he licked his lips, jumped to his feet with another swoosh of his tail, then trotted away on silent paws.

Morgan shook her head as she left, deciding that Stanley was probably overqualified for the job.

It didn't take long before they were back at the house, her mind a mess of chaos as she climbed the steps. She headed toward the study automatically, the need to report after a mission so ingrained into her that she didn't even question it.

She was almost surprised when MacGregor gently seated her behind the desk instead of taking it for himself. She popped up a second later, uncomfortable sitting in what she would always consider his spot.

The rest of the guys filed into the room behind her.

Kincade instantly came to her side and scooped her up in his arms before he sat down in the desk chair and settled her in his lap. His hands slowly worked over her body, silently reassuring himself that she remained uninjured.

"What can make a wolf feral? Do we think the gods had someone infect them and ordered them to come after us?" It made her sick to even think that she was the cause of so many wolves being torn apart and driven insane, but she wouldn't put anything past the gods.

K incade tightened his arms around Morgan, ignoring the way his cock hardened at her nearness. He hated the slight catch in her words, the defeated slump of her shoulders. He'd led the guys for many years and knew the weight of leadership could take a toll on a person.

He didn't want her to become beaten down by the responsibility. Having lives depend on you had a way of hardening a person, and he didn't want to see the sparkle of adventure in Morgan's violet eyes dim.

"Maybe a more important question is why target us now?" Needing a distraction while his mind worked on the issue, he slowly unraveled the messy braid that held her hair back until the strands fell free in glorious waves. He barely resisted the urge to bury his face in the mass. Only when she sagged into his touch, the tension finally leaving her, did he pull her closer and kiss her temple. "You've always had power, so what changed that they would come after you now?"

The guys exchanged uncertain looks.

Morgan stiffened, and he nearly groaned when her ass ground against his dick. Then all thoughts of spreading her out on the desk to taste her vanished when she spoke. "The wolves!"

Louis stiffened, tension radiating from him, and he eyed everyone in the room like they were seconds away from attacking. "You think we brought them here?"

"What?" Morgan cast him a glance, then flipped her hand at him in annoyance. "No, of course not. I meant?—"

"She means us." Caedmon's eyes locked on Morgan, the fae bastard giving nothing away in his expression.

"Stop putting words in my mouth," Morgan snapped, her hands clenched as she shot to her feet with a glare. "I'm talking about when we fought the wendigo. That amount of magic was bound to draw attention."

As the two continued to glare at each other, Kincade gave a defeated sigh. Though he wasn't happy about sharing Morgan with another mate, he had come to admire Caedmon's steadfast devotion to her. Everything the fae did was to make Morgan's life easier.

The poor sap worshiped Morgan with a single-minded devotion that nearly bordered on obsession, but he hid it so well that she didn't have a clue.

Kincade could sympathize.

Morgan was a girl that made falling in love as easy as breathing. She gave with her whole heart, holding nothing back and asking nothing in return. It was nearly irresistible in a world that always demanded a price.

The first time he saw her, she stole his breath.

He'd wanted to keep her safe, bundle her up so no harm could come to her, and he had acted like a total ass because of it.

She'd fought him at every opportunity, refusing to let him get away with that shit.

She'd been fucking determined to become an assassin, despite the danger. He blocked her every step of the way, but she was unstoppable.

Irresistible.

Feeling a bit nostalgic, he decided to give Caedmon a break.

The man was so far gone on their girl that it was hard to remain pissed.

And he suspected they were going to need his help if they had any hope of Morgan getting out of this alive.

That was enough for him to accept the man.

"Sit." Kincade grabbed her hips, not proud to admit the way his attention dropped to her ass just inches away from his face. As he pulled her down on his lap, she opened her mouth to blast him, wiggling in his lap to glare at him.

He knew the instant she felt his condition—her eyes went comically wide, her mouth parting when his prominent erection nudged her ass.

"Really?" She huffed in exasperation, an adorable blush stealing up her neck. "We're trying to have a discussion."

"You think those two things are mutually exclusive?" He couldn't help but grin at her dubious, slightly annoyed expression. "If you sit in my lap, if you stand and shove your ass in my face, if you even breathe in my direction, this is going to happen. You are pure distraction, honey. "

She only blinked at him with a stupefied look, and he chuckled, reaching under her chin to close her mouth.

"Enough of that." Ascher stepped around the desk, grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet, removing the temptation from his grasp.

Kincade sighed but didn't protest.

The only way they were going to get any work done was by keeping their hands to themselves.

"I don't think it was the gods who were behind the attack," Atlas spoke from the shadows, standing apart from the others.

Kincade rose to his feet at the surety in his words and total lack of infection in his voice. "What do you mean?"

Atlas turned toward him, his green eyes full of turmoil. He didn't look at anyone else, unable to mask his bleak, devastated expression. "I'm very much afraid that my family is involved. If that's true, nothing will stop them but her death."