Chapter 9

Brielle

Something had to be wrong with me. Why else would I want to reach for Korren or believe the truth in his words?

You'll be safe with us. You'll be safe in Hidden Creek.

Goddess, if I didn't want to believe him.

When was the last time I believed anyone?

The last time I knew I was safe?

They are our mates. If they were lying, we would feel it,my wolf said, hinting at my obvious resistance to the bond.

The mate bond acted as a bridge, with several paths linking all the parties together. It gave us access to each other's emotions and thoughts, and occasionally allowed us to feel those emotions as if they were our own. It called us back to each other. I would always be able to find my mates as long as the bond was strong. However, partners could also hide from their mates by erecting mental walls. They couldn't completely hide their whereabouts, but they could block their feelings, making it more difficult to find each other.

The problem was that I didn't want to lower my walls. Bonds were a two-way street, and if I felt their emotions, they could feel mine. That would lead to questions—questions I couldn't answer.

Not if I wanted to keep Blythe safe.

A large, strong hand appeared in front of me. "Let's go."

I didn't have to look up to know it was Valor. His rumbling tenor and familiar scent of fresh mint, orange blossom, and spiced vanilla were already ingrained in my bones. My body heated from the memory of his thick, honed muscles contracting beneath me as he carried me back to the facility.

A wave of lust budded my nipples, and he let out a low, knowing growl.

My eyes snapped to his hazel ones, and his nostrils flared.

"Take my hand, sweetling. We'll make you more comfortable in the car."

My face burned with thoughts of what that comfort would entail. I gave him my hand, and he guided me out of one prison and toward another.

Korren joined us, his patchouli, amber, and black pepper scent wrapping around me and complimenting the sweetness of Valor's. Korren was the smallest of the males, but he was still a good four inches taller than me. Where Valor was broad, with bulky, developed muscles, Korren was lean and sinewy. A tattoo trailed from the center of his chest to the base of his throat, the bold black design a seductive contrast to his smooth ivory skin. His inky hair brushed his thick, straight brows, and his wide mouth was impossibly soft. He was so beautiful that it was hard not to blush when his ocean eyes collided with mine.

A large black Jeep with blacked-out windows waited in front of the facility. Ezra opened the back door for me, and ginger, sage, and suede cascaded over my senses. Stoic and steady, Ezra was an inescapable presence. His size was intimidating, but his quiet confidence and sharp tongue were equally impressive. And those eyes . . . oh Goddess, those eyes were like embers and ice. They pulled me apart section by section until I was raw and bare before him.

I was burning before, but now I was a puddle.

Slick trickled down my thighs, and the memory of Ezra's girthy cock made my mouth water.

Fuck, this was going to be a problem.

I climbed into the car, and Korren slid in beside me. He rested a hand on my leg, his touch a delicious balm to my simmering need. His thumb made languid circles over my inner thigh, and I sighed at the cooling hum of his healing ability. Some of the fog began to clear.

"Better?" Korren asked.

"Much." I paused. Why wasn't he taking advantage of my heat? Unable to come up with an answer, I said, "Thank you."

Korren gave me an unassuming smile.

Valor sat in the passenger seat, and Ezra drove. I watched the males, studying the dynamic between them. Just because they'd claimed me didn't mean it was over.

I'd find a way out.

For now, it was a waiting game. I needed to gather as much information as possible to escape Hidden Creek territory.

"It's a bit of a ride," Korren said. "I thought this would be a good time to get acquainted."

I blinked, attempting to contain my surprise. Why did he want to get to know me?

It had to be some trick, but seeing as I had no other options, playing along was my best bet.

"I'm not sure what to share," I said, opting for honesty.

Korren's hand remained on my thigh, a warm, lingering presence. "That's all right. We'll tell you a little bit about us and our pack. Ask anything you want, and share when you're ready, yeah?"

I nodded.

"Well, you already know I'm a healer, but I'm also the chief Healer of our pack. I oversee a team that specializes in scientific and herbal medicine and practice. Valor is an Enforcer. He's second in command to our head Enforcer and Gamma, Alaric."

Valor flashed a stunning smile in my direction, and I almost returned it with one of my own.

Korren continued, "Ezra is our chief of security. He handles everything from border security to weapons for our specialized forces."

The quiet male's eyes met mine in the mirror before returning to the road.

Shit. The Goddess did a number on me in the mate department. Escaping was going to be more complicated than I thought. How the hell was I supposed to evade a security specialist and an Enforcer without getting caught?

Looks like I'm going to have to appeal to their baser instincts.

"Not very talkative, are you?" I asked, wincing at my sharp words. I was supposed to make them like me, not push them away.

I'd always been a nettler, though. My father used to tell me I pushed his buttons just to see if I could. I suppose that hadn't changed much.

"Only when I have something to say," Ezra answered.

"And how often is that?" I pushed.

Korren smirked.

"Yeah, how often is that?" Valor parroted with a grin.

Ezra glared at him before fixing his dark eyes on mine in the rearview mirror. "Don't worry, Brielle. When I have something to say, you'll know."

"It's true," Valor agreed. "For a man who doesn't speak much, his opinions are rather loud."

"Oh, so Ezra's the daddy then?" I asked, amused at their descriptions.

Valor burst into laughter. My chest squeezed, and the foreign feeling of ease threatened to take root.

Needing to ignore the sensation, I changed the subject. "So, you're all important to your pack."

"Everyone is important in a pack," Korren corrected, wiping mirthful tears from his eyes. "Our pack is like a body. There are organs, veins, muscles, blood, and bones, each serving a different purpose, but every task is essential for us to function. Everyone has a job, and everyone is treated with respect."

"Really?" I asked, unconvinced. "Would you say your Alpha is afforded the same respect as an elder?"

Valor's brow quirked at my comparison. "So, you do know a little something about pack politics."

It wasn't a question.

"A little," I admitted, not wanting to end the conversation. "The basics, at least. The Alpha rules, the Beta keeps everyone in line, and the Gamma defends. There are Enforcers, though I'm sure training varies from pack to pack, and—" I looked at Korren, "—a healer if the pack is lucky. Other than that, I'm in the dark."

"In our pack, I would say yes, each member is afforded the same respect in everyday circumstances, but the Alpha will always have distinction. He is responsible for everyone and has earned his title. Every member of the pack understands how lucky we are to live under his care," Valor said.

I nodded, unsure what to believe. A pack where each member was equal sounded too good to be true.

"You know the essentials of pack structure, but now, I'm going to teach you the basics of our pack," Ezra said. "Our Alpha's name is Wynn. He comes from a long line of dominant males and has proven to be even more powerful than his predecessors. Our Beta, Bishop, is honest and fair, but he's also the last person you want to cross—"

"The Enforcers call him the smiling devil," Valor interrupted, "because he'll smile even while torturing his enemies."

Well . . . that was reassuring.

"And our Gamma—" Korren started.

"My captain," Valor cut in with a proud grin.

"—is the best fighter in the entire pack. Alaric specializes in six hand-to-hand combat styles and seven weapons, and he's an expert in war strategy. The three of them lead our pack as the Alpha unit."

"So there's a ranking system?" I asked.

"Yes," Ezra answered. "There is a hierarchy, but unlike some packs, Hidden Creek's ranks only come into play when order and safety are on the line. We don't use rank as a means of control."

I heard the conviction in his words. He wasn't bullshitting me, which made me curious about their pack. Instinctively, my fingers played with my locket, fingering it between each digit in a practiced movement.

My father told me what he could, but packs were secretive about their communities. A few common rules bound us all as shifters, but each pack operated like its own society. Hidden Creek seemed to be the opposite of what I'd learned, and I wasn't sure how to feel about it.

My father had taught us about the packs in the area. The Silver Fang pack was known for its lineage of Alphas. It was the only pack that was monarchical. The governing family—the Kuus—shifted into wolves with hair as silver as moonlight. There were rumors they were direct descendants of the moon Goddess, and some believed their wolves turned into bipedal beasts during fits of rage.

Then there was the Red Sun pack, led by their malevolent Alpha, Crue Moacir. Crue was known as the "mad" Alpha, balancing on the precipice of going rogue. He was paranoid and distrustful, only allowing his Beta and Gamma to come close to him. His pack was notable for their strategic fighting styles and the legendary cruelty of his punishments. No one lived if they crossed him.

The Mortar pack kept their females bound by archaic rules. If you were unlucky enough to be born without male family members to provide protection, you were free game to any male. Their Alpha never lasted more than a few years due to the number of challengers.

Every pack was corrupt and shrouded in secrets.

Yet here were my mates, telling me Hidden Creek was different.

"How did you manage to hide your scent?" Valor asked, breaking my train of thought.

I thought about lying, but that wouldn't do me any favors in the long run. If I wanted to escape, I needed them to trust me and loosen the reins. "Oh, I found a rabbit tobacco plant during the first Hunt. I've been using it ever since."

"Rabbit tobacco?" Korren asked.

"Yeah, it's a small, leafy plant that looks like cilantro. You can chew it up and create a paste that hides your scent."

Valor's eyes widened as he examined me with new interest. "I'm impressed. Where did you learn to do that?"

"My father taught me." A familiar ache throbbed in my chest.

"Your father?" Ezra's eyes met mine. "Aren't all Omegas taken from their families at the age of six?"

He was wary, suspecting a lie.

I wouldn't give him one.

I swallowed the jagged lump in my throat. "I wasn't taken to a boarding house until I was fourteen. When my father discovered I was an Omega, we ran. He taught me how to survive in case we were caught." I looked out the window, unable to stomach the pity in their eyes.

"What happened to your father?" Korren asked.

My voice was hollow as I said, "We managed to evade the Council for years until someone tipped them off. They killed him and took me."