1. The Northern Hunt Begins

1

The Northern Hunt Begins

FLOR

Ontario, the Northern packlands

I n my imagination, the Northern shifters lived in a city, or at least close to one. The Hilliers had seemed so cultured, more refined than anyone I'd met before. But the Ontario Lodge was nestled in a wilderness, the great house situated in the center of a green, rolling valley around three miles wide. The valley was closed in on three sides by a dense evergreen forest, and the horizon dominated by tall, snow-dusted mountains. On the fourth side was a vast lake that reflected the trees, the mountains, and the endless sky.

It looked like heaven.

But it turned out to be hell.

I'd met snakes before. Whip snakes, rat snakes, cottonmouths, and diamondback rattlers, even. But I'd never met one that wore high-heeled shoes and a cocktail dress at ten in the morning.

Seconds before, the Heir to the Northern pack had run up the wide marble steps, holding my hand, and when this particular snake had opened the door, he'd pulled me into a hug, kissed the top of my head, and handed me off to her with a hurried explanation. "Vanessa? I have to go help Mom. Dad just stopped breathing again. Please show Flor the house and give her a room." He dropped a second kiss on my hand, shocking the hell out of me before he took off. "I'll see you at dinner, if not before, Dream Girl."

Now Vanessa's curious gaze raked me from top to bottom, while she murmured something about needing to tell someone named Clara about me. "Dream Girl? Sounds like my cousin has plans for you."

"I honestly hope not," I said truthfully. "All I want is a hot meal and a bed." I felt like I could fall asleep where I stood.

"Well, let's get you sorted out, then. You look like you've been…" She grimaced.

"Like I've been chewed up and spit out? I feel that way, too." I forced a smile when she laughed.

Even without a mirror, I knew I looked like hammered shit. I'd just spent the past two days on a road trip from Alabama, and the seven days before that hiding in sewers and fighting for my life.

And the nineteen years before that being starved, or beaten. Or starved and beaten. My life growing up in the Southern pack had been rough, but Glen had promised me this fancy-as-fuck pack would be better.

"Well, this day is full of surprises. Aren't you just a sliver of a thing," Vanessa mused as she closed the door behind us. "With an almost… boyish figure."

"That's me, skinny as shi… uh, as all get out," I agreed.

Her green eyes flashed. "And you're here all alone?"

"Looks that way." I had no idea where Brand, the Alpha Heir from Mountain—who'd been stuck to my side since we left my old pack—had gone. The Enforcer chauffeur who'd brought us here in the black SUV had mentioned something about protocol and heightened security, and drove him to the back of the estate after they'd dropped Glen and me off at the front.

I tried not to stare at Vanessa, but it was impossible. She was gorgeous, like a model or something. Her silver dress had black accents and a plunging neckline, and ended above her knees, showing off her trim, but still curvy body. She had on diamond earrings and black high heels, the red soles perfectly matching her fresh lipstick.

I followed her through a short hall to a far more ostentatious entry room. The ceiling was fifty feet high, with a massive crystal chandelier and what had to be expensive art on all the walls, huge canvases depicting wolves running over mountains and crossing streams. Even the floors were some kind of mosaic with the phases of the moon in what might have been gold, and a word I'd never seen before: Boreal.

She caught me moving my lips as I read it, and remarked, "That was the name of our pack when it was founded two hundred and fifty years ago."

I nodded and peered around the nearly-empty space. There was one table by the door, holding a fancy ceramic urn, but no other furniture, just walls of alternating wood and some sort of glittery stone, so every footstep and scuff echoed. Everything looked old but expensive. Not like Southern, where everything was old and about to fall into piles of rust and rat shit.

"Who are your parents again?" Vanessa asked. I swallowed and shrugged, not wanting to lie. I wasn't about to admit that my mother was dead, and my father was on the run from the Council after he'd lost an Alpha challenge and fled like a coward.

Vanessa sure as heck didn't need to know he was the former Alpha of Southern. I was pretty sure no one alive knew that but me, and I wanted to keep it that way.

When I didn't answer, she pivoted and led me into a long hall.I followed close behind, even if she really did make me think of a snake. Especially the way her hips moved back and forth. How did she stay up on those stilts while she was swaying her butt like a moon-drunk wolf after a pack ru— " Ow! "

While I was watching her hips, she'd turned and caught my arm with her long, manicured nails, digging them into my skin. Had she shifted her nails? I glanced down, but they were human-shaped, just filed to points and painted a vivid purple.

"Flor. That's really your name? Like the thing people walk on?"

"Close enough," I snapped back. "You're really Margarette's niece?" It didn't seem plausible; this woman was the opposite of the one who'd invited me to Northern.

Margarette Hillier was the badass, tough-but-kind Alpha Mate of this pack. She'd vowed to take care of me, but her mate was on the brink of death, so I understood her not showing me around. I'd heard whispers of silver poisoning on the trip here, and he'd stopped breathing more than once.

I twisted my arm, pulling out of Vanessa's grip and putting some distance between us as she escorted me down a long hallway that was all plush carpet, dark wood, and tiny oil paintings of forests dressed in autumn leaves, each with their own miniature light.

"Yes, my mother Linn was one of the only other female Enforcers. She died fighting the Russian invaders twenty-two years ago." She muttered, "And I've been stuck here ever since."

I didn't know what that was about, but I offered a sympathetic smile. She must have been young when it happened, since she only looked like she was in her late twenties now. "I'm sorry about your mom. I lost mine a few years back. Maybe we can train together, get to know each other."

She stifled a laugh. "Train together? You've been trained to fight?"

"Ah, kind of. Not officially. Not like, lessons. Margarette said I could take those here. But Brand's planning to help me work on some new techniques. We're supposed to start tomorrow."

Her red lips made a small circle. "Brand. The Alpha Heir of Mountain. He's offered to train with you?" Her voice rose in an alarming way, and I stepped back. "He's never offered to train with me."

"Yeah, well… maybe we can all train together." That sounded about as fun as handwashing feral cats, but I didn't know what else to say.

Her eyes slid back and over me as she reached for a brass doorknob, hesitating. Considering something.

My skin prickled everywhere she looked, and I turned my head, wondering where everyone else had gone. I could smell food somewhere, and had heard distant voices when the car stopped, so I knew there must be others close. But we were alone for now.

I didn't like it. Something about this woman's assessment reminded me of the worst males back home. Trevor, or Grant. The ones who'd tortured and hunted me for years. Like she was waiting for the moment I had my back turned to pounce.

As she stared at me, she played with the ends of her long, shiny hair. My own newly short haircut was already growing out over my ears, though Margarette had mentioned it would grow even faster once I could shift regularly. I wasn't sure when that would start, though. I didn't feel much different than I had before my one shift at Southern.

I tucked a stray piece of hair behind one ear, brushing the metal circle that dangled at the top of my ear, the one I'd worn since I was a child, like every unranked shifter at Southern.

Suddenly, Vanessa gasped, and I braced myself. But for some reason, she was beaming now, her smile a real one, even if it had a strange coldness to it. She pointed at the metal tag. "That's an intriguing piece of jewelry you have, Flor. I've never seen one in person, but I've heard about it. Does it mean what I think it does?"

"That I'm unranked? Yeah, it does." I rubbed at my tag, not sure why she would care. Glen had acted like everybody was treated the same in his pack no matter how they were ranked, going on and on about integrity and honor. He'd urged me to take the tag off now that I was going to be at Northern. He'd even offered to cut it off in the car the day before. I almost wished I'd taken him up on the offer, caught under the judgmental gaze of this woman.

But it was that judgment that had me hesitating.

For some reason, now that I'd escaped my past, my tag felt less like a mark of shame, and more like a battle scar. I'd take it off soon enough, but the tag reminded me of what I'd survived.

And it was an easy way of finding out who was an elitist bitch.

I dropped my hand from my ear, deciding to play dumb. "Do y'all have ear tags for the unranked here?"

"Of course not," she scoffed. "But we do have sections of the house the unranked are not allowed in, if you're not on the staff."I could practically smell the condescension coming off her as she motioned for me to follow her.

I trailed behind her down yet another hallway, noting the number of narrow doors with latches instead of doorknobs. The wood wasn't polished here, and the brass was dull. This hall stank of chemicals, like bleach and floor polish, and I noted a few buckets and mops inside one open door. A janitorial closet?

Vanessa took a key from her pocket and unlocked a door, opening it to reveal a room with two cots, though neither one had sheets or pillows. "This is where you'll stay until Aunt Margarette tells me what to do with you. Don't leave the servants' hall without an escort or a summons. I'm assuming Glen might call you into his room at night. Just be aware that no one can see you go in or out." She winked. "Who he fucks isn't anyone's business, but we don't want his reputation to take a hit, right?"

"I'm not fucking him," I began, but she was already on her way out. "Hey! What about food?" But the door was shut before the last word was spoken."So, they have bitches at Northern, too. Fun times," I murmured as I began looking around. The room was every bit as bare and plain as the one I'd lived in for years in the shifter dorms at Southern. The bathroom had to be down the hall, since there was no toilet here. It was a good thing we'd stopped on the drive a few hours ago. I only wished I'd grabbed some snacks.

Del's voice echoed in my mind. In every new setting, if you're lucky, you'll have a moment to assess your surroundings. Use this time wisely. Where can you hide? What weapons can you find? Water, food, shelter—you need these. But you also need safety, and a way out.

I hadn't needed those lessons for a while. But I wouldn't insult his memory by forgetting them now.

Got it, Del. I moved around the room, taking it all in. There was a wooden chest of drawers with sturdy handles that could be unscrewed, but nothing had sharp edges. Inside one drawer was a stack of maid's uniforms: starched white tops, gray trousers, a gray skirt, sturdy wool socks, and the ugliest granny panties I'd ever seen. No belt, which was a shame. No bra, but I didn't need one. There also weren't any shoes, so I was glad I had some on.

I glanced down. The t-shirt and loose pants I'd worn for three days—some of the only clothes I'd been able to scrounge up after all the battles at Southern—were filthy now. The Enforcers in the SUV hadn't said anything about my increasingly rank smell, although their expressions had said enough. I'd tried to wash them in the sink when we'd spent a few hours in a motel, but the small bar of soap hadn't done much good.

Fuck. I took a moment to change into the gray trousers and one of the white tops, wishing I'd been given a room with a shower.

On one wall, there was a window. It was painted shut, but I had my steak knife. I'd stolen it at the dinner with the Council only a few days before, and used it to decapitate the Head Enforcer who'd been trying to kill the Hilliers. The blade was as strong as ever, though, and I used it to loosen the paint and make sure I could open the window. Beyond was the woods.

My way out. Even better.

I scanned the room once more. Beside the bed sat a brass lamp, nice and heavy, with a cord long enough to strangle someone. The only other decent weapon was my knife.

I picked a flake of paint off the serrated blade and sheathed it in a leather knife holder one of the Northern Enforcers had given me on the way. I had no idea why he'd offered it to me, but at one of the rest stops, he'd brought it out of the small store. Brand had growled at him, but after I showed him the scrapes beside my spine from the serrated edge, he'd settled.

A sudden knocking at the door had me on my feet, one hand on the handle of my knife. There was no way to lock the door from the inside, I noted as I cracked it open, finding a confused-looking woman there.

"I heard Miss Vanessa say we had a new unranked shifter."

"Yeah, that's probably me," I said, meeting her eyes.

She dropped her gaze immediately and mumbled, "Not sure I believe that. But here you are."

"What's wrong?"

She opened her mouth to answer, when someone shouted down the hall, "They're coming up!"

"You need to go," the girl said nervously. "I'm kitchen staff, so I have a place to hide, but… are you assigned yet?" I shook my head. "Shit. Listen, some of the ranked males are on their way here. It's not safe for you to be caught alone."

Somewhere in the distance, a door slammed open. A chorus of male laughter rang out, drawing closer.

"Sorry, I've gotta go," the girl squeaked, and ran on silent feet down the hall and through a doorway, away from the voices.

Ranked males. Hiding.

Suddenly, I was back at Southern again, afraid and alone. But this time, I had no idea where the hiding places were. I hadn't spent years making bolt-holes and stringing ropes and wires in treetops and along rooflines to escape from a pack of running wolves.

I didn't know how to get to safety, or who might help me.

A door opened at one end of the hall, and a deep voice called, "Hey, you! I heard there's some fresh meat. Is that you?"

I didn't answer him, but started for the door at the other end of the hall. Then that door opened as well.

A burly shifter with no shirt on and a lustful gleam in his eyes rested his hands at the top of the doorframe, closing off my exit. "You the new piece of fur Vanessa said wanted some company?" He licked his lips, his eyes resting on the tag in my ear. "I've never seen you around before. I would've had you already, shown you what you should aim for." He took one hand down and adjusted his dick. "Come here, unranked girl."

It wasn't a request. It was an order, and the males at both ends of the hallway were stalking toward me.

Fuck a mangy duck. I had to get out of here. I ran back into my room, slamming the door behind me. In a second, I was halfway out the window. But that was all the time it took.

"She's running!" one of them yelled.

"Get her!" shouted another.

The Hunt was on again.