5. Ore

Ore's knuckles began to ache from how tightly he was squeezing his hands into fists. Despite that, he thought he was doing a pretty good job keeping his voice and demeanor calm as he answered the same question for the fourth—no, fifth—time. Alpha Amato just kept circling around, asking the same things repeatedly.

Ore's responses didn't change.

No, sir.

I don't remember that either.

I don't know.

I'm sorry, no.

I can't remember.

Over and over and over again.

Alpha Amato switched up their order and changed them just enough to try and trip him up. He knew they were trying to catch him in a lie, that they didn't believe he couldn't remember anything beyond his name and the generic information any parahuman would know. He also knew it wasn't personal.

It still sucked.

He hadn't felt that bad when he'd left Cash and Pops's house, but after an hour of sitting on the hard chair and being grilled relentlessly, he found he was growing increasingly tired. That was more concerning to him than anything else. Even after three days of healing, he was still so weak from whatever they'd done to him. His joints were aching so badly he'd have to clench his teeth to hold in whimpers every time he shifted his weight.

He just wanted to go back to the cozy loft in the homey A-frame where he'd woken up. He wanted to curl back up in the sheets that smelled like lavender and leather and fresh air. He wanted to bask in the sunshine and the feeling of safety that permeated the whole house.

But he knew he couldn't leave until they were done with him and that even if they ended up believing him, they could still send him away.

He shuddered at the idea of going off on his own without knowing anyone, without any clothes or a phone or money. But it would be well within Alpha Amato's right to remove him from his territory in the name of protecting his pack.

The only thing that made it tolerable was the fact that he could tell Cash was upset at the intense questioning as well. The panther didn't say anything—he never interrupted or protested—but the longer it went on, the more Ore could feel his temper rising. It was like a pull at Ore's insides, a hook in his guts, connecting him to the Enforcer. Pushing him to move closer, even though he knew he couldn't. Knowing Cash didn't like how he was being treated was enough to ease some of his own discomfort.

The only person who spoke to him was Alpha Amato. The other Enforcers—whom no one had bothered to introduce—sat or stood around the room, watching silently. The one who'd winked at him had turned serious as soon as the interrogation began, not offering any more reassurances or encouragement.

The intimidation factor was at an eleven, and combined with everything else, he was at his limit.

Before Alpha Amato had really dove into his questioning, the sweet-looking woman perched on the front edge of his desk had piped up. Her name was Fern, and she was head of the pack's coven. She proceeded to tell him about the condition he'd been in when he'd arrived—near death—how they'd helped him get better—using a mix of medicine and magic to boost his healing—and how a blood test had shown traces of antibodies associated with viral infections.

"A virus almost killed me?" he'd asked, skeptical.

She'd shaken her head, sending her strawberry blonde waves flying. "No, not the virus. It was only used as a delivery system. What almost killed you was the magic it was altered with."

Someone had dosed him with a magical virus that nearly killed him. Oh, and erased his memories. And now, Liam Amato was drilling him like he was caught stealing pack secrets.

Before she'd left, she'd told him the amnesia was a surprise, but she agreed with Pops that it would probably come back. Since they had been able to counteract the magic and help his body heal, she believed whatever was causing it would go away as his body continued to heal from the effects.

"Was it the virus or magic that took his memories?" Alpha Amato had asked her, stopping her before she could slip out past a frowning Cash.

She'd shrugged. "It's hard to say for sure. And it might not be either. His brain could be protecting him from something extremely traumatic."

What a troubling thought that had been.

She'd given him a sympathetic grimace and added, "It was probably the magic though."

"What was the point in stealing my memory if the spell would kill me anyway?" he'd asked.

"It might not have been meant to kill you. Or it was an unintended side effect."

As far as he could figure, they didn't really know anything. And since he couldn't remember where he'd been or who had done it, he had no leads to figure anything out. He could have flown in from anywhere. There was no telling how long he'd been traveling either.

Until he started getting his memories back—assuming he did—they were at a bit of a standstill. He knew that was the main reason Alpha Amato was questioning him for so long. He was trying to determine if it would be safe to let him stay until he was fully back to himself or if he posed too big of a risk. Considering Pops had told him the pack was pretty isolated and wary of strangers, he wouldn't be surprised if he was given a generic sorry we can't help and shown to the edge of the territory.

Just driving to the Alpha House, he'd gotten the very distinct impression he wouldn't exactly be welcome with open arms. The town the pack had created was tiny, not much more than a main street with some necessary businesses. Going down the street in the front of Cash's pickup, half a dozen people had paused to stare. Some had just seemed surprised, but a few had looked angry. He'd been so distracted by the eerie feeling of being watched that he'd barely noticed any of the businesses they'd passed.

The Alpha House was located at the end of a street just off the main road. The whole thing was lined with nice-looking houses, yards meticulously maintained, and a playground next to the Alpha House that looked brand-new. Several kids had been playing, their adults standing or stepping in front of them as soon as Ore had jumped out of Cash's truck.

Cash had ushered him inside quickly, pointing to something on the other side of the street like he hadn't wanted Ore to notice. It hurt his heart that his mere presence caused so much stress, but he couldn't really blame them. The pack wasn't used to outsiders, and he couldn't tell them anything about himself.

That level of unknown could cause issues for the pack or maybe even bring trouble to their door. If he was on the run, someone could be following him. If he had been sent there, he could hand over information unintentionally.

He knew, without knowing how he knew, that there were some packs out there who wouldn't have bothered to save him. So despite everything, he was grateful that he had been taken care of, but he was still worried about what would come next.

Finally, Alpha Amato relaxed in his chair and shook his head. "As far as I can tell, you really don't remember anything."

Ore forced a smile. Based on the way Amato chuckled at him, it probably came off more as a wince.

"I had to be sure."

"I understand, sir," he said, and he did. That didn't mean he had to like or enjoy the process.

"But just because you don't remember?—"

"—doesn't mean I'm not still a potential threat," Ore finished for him, twisting his borrowed T-shirt around his fingers. The material over his thighs was severely wrinkled from his nonstop fidgeting. "What does that mean for me?"

"I can't just let you have free rein around the pack," he said slowly, studying Ore. He glanced at his Enforcers. "Are we in agreement on that?"

The vampire just nodded. Ore still couldn't look directly at him, his eagle getting too agitated just from quick glances. It was almost a pity. The man was devastatingly handsome, his whiskey eyes hypnotizing in their appeal. His animal instincts knew who the bigger predator was though.

The beautiful Black woman—a leopard, he was pretty sure—shifted in her seat, leaning forward with a frown. "We can't just kick him out, Liam. He's helpless like this."

Ore frowned at his lap. Helpless seemed a bit harsh. Sure, he wasn't a large cat shifter, and he didn't remember things, but he wasn't some weak little hatchling.

"Agreed," said the Enforcer sitting next to her. His serious face had melted away now that questioning was over, his mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his mouth once more. A few times in the last hour, he'd glanced back at Cash, making Ore wonder if the two of them were close.

"I understand the need to protect the pack," the woman continued fiercely, "but if we remove him from the territory in this state, that'll make us as bad as whoever nearly killed him."

He forgave her for the helpless comment. Shuddering, he tried not to think about the fact that someone—or multiple someones—could be looking for him right at that moment, wanting to finish the job. Even if whatever magic they'd dosed him with hadn't been intended to end his life, he highly doubted he'd voluntarily signed up to get injected with whatever kind of crazy cocktail they'd come up with.

The vampire, who hadn't said a word the entire time he'd been in the room, finally spoke, startling the hell out of Ore with his smooth voice. "We could put him downstairs until he gets his memories back."

He wasn't sure what that meant. Were they going to lock him in the basement or a cellar of some sort? He glanced around the room, trying to gauge everyone's reaction to the suggestion.

Liam sighed unhappily, running a hand through his long hair and looking back at the vampire. Ore's lips parted as he stared at the scars visible above the neckline of the lion's shirt. Those were claw marks. Slashes from a canine or feline shifter, he'd guess. How had a wound like that ended up leaving a permanent mark? As far as he knew—though with his memory all messed up, he could be wrong—the only way for a wound to leave a scar on a shifter was if wolfsbane was used or if it was somehow exposed to it before it fully healed.

A pang of empathy filled him as he snapped his mouth shut and looked away, not wanting to get caught staring. He wondered if Alpha Amato kept his hair longer to try and hide the scars. Was he embarrassed by them? Had someone tried to overthrow him as alpha? How long ago had it happened?

He had so many questions, but he doubted he'd get any answers.

"I don't like it, but it might be the best option." Amato turned back to Ore, fingers drumming on his desk. "We'll make you as comfortable as we can."

Well, that sounded ominous as hell.

He supposed it was still better than having to fend for himself without memories or resources.

Before Ore could thank him for letting him stay, Cash stepped forward, drawing his attention. His sharp eyes caught a muscle flexing in the Enforcer's jaw, even though the rest of him appeared completely composed. "He can stay with me. I'll keep an eye on him."

Ore jerked in his chair, grateful beyond words that the panther was saving him yet again, this time from what he was sure would've been a miserable few days—if not weeks—locked in some cell in the basement.

"What if you have pack business you need to attend to?" Liam said, eyebrows raised.

Ore could read between the lines: What if Cash had to do something they didn't want Ore to know about?

"Then I can watch him," the cheerful tiger said. "And if I'm busy, Rachel can. Or Finlay." He nodded at the other two Enforcers. "Or we can grab a beta. There's enough of us that we don't have to keep him locked up."

Neither Finlay nor Rachel protested, and gratitude filled him, his eyes burning at the intensity of the emotion. These people had no reason to give him special treatment and yet were going above and beyond to accommodate him.

He smiled at each of them, trying to express his thankfulness. Cash, though, wasn't looking at him at all. His gaze was locked on his alpha, waiting for his answer. Annoyance rippled through him, and he nearly stood just to grab his damn attention, wanting it focused solely on him.

Which was… weird.

"I don't want this to disrupt the pack," Alpha Amato said, attention still on Cash. "If it does?—"

"It won't," Cash assured him calmly.

"If it does," Amato repeated firmly, "we'll revisit the discussion on the room downstairs."

"Yes, Alpha."

Ore bit his lip to try and rein in his glee. Not only was he getting to stay, but he was going back to Cash's house with him. And it had been Cash's idea!

"I'll bring you some actual clothes tomorrow," Rachel said, standing and shooting a glare at Cash.

"Oh. Thank you." He glanced down at his attire. He'd almost forgotten he was only wearing one of Cash's shirts in front of all of them. Back at the house, he hadn't minded, but it was kind of embarrassing for them to see him in something that was so enormous on him.

"I can bring my gaming system over," the tiger said, staying sprawled in his chair. "Cash doesn't have much for entertainment beyond books."

Ore saw the look of distaste that flashed across the panther's face before it disappeared once more. "That's so kind, thank you. But I don't need anything special like that."

"He's supposed to be resting, Saint. Didn't you hear Fern?" Rachel asked, crossing her arms under her rather impressive bosom.

The tiger—Saint, apparently—rolled his eyes and pushed to his feet. "You all are no fun. Can he have a phone, at least?"

Ore stood as well, not wanting to linger any longer than he had to. He turned hopeful eyes on Alpha Amato. He was sure he could keep himself entertained with a phone…

"Not yet," he said, accepting his own from Finlay. He read something on it, then threw it down on the surface in disgust. He turned to Ore and locked him in his gaze, eyes glowing barely perceptively. The cats might not have even been able to see it, but Ore could. The man's lion was just beneath the surface, poised to strike. "The second you start remembering things, I want to know."

"Yes, sir," he said softly, intimidated despite his best efforts.

"We'll start piecing things together as they come. As soon as we know where you belong, we'll get you taken care of. Understood?"

Ore nodded, trying not to take offense at the fact he'd be shipped off as soon as they knew where to address the package. "Yes. I understand. As soon as I start remembering anything, I'll let everyone know. I promise."

He wanted to know what had happened to him even more than they did. He hoped he wouldn't have to wait long before the memories started to come back, filling in not just what had led him to the Silver Oak Pack but who he was.

Although… He glanced over at Cash, his heart sinking a little. Once they knew where he belonged, he'd have no reason to stay in with Cash and Pops. No reason to keep wrapping himself in those good-smelling sheets. No reason to see Cash at all.

He reminded himself that he could have a family out there he would want to return to. Maybe even a mate…

But his eagle rejected that idea, protesting vehemently inside him. He had to agree. It was hard to believe that, even if he didn't remember his life from before, he would have such a strong, visceral reaction to someone if he was already in a relationship.

"In the meantime, while you're here, you're our guest," Liam continued, rising from his chair and coming around his desk to lean against the edge in front of where Ore was standing. He smiled good-naturedly. "People will treat you with kindness, but they're not used to strangers. You may run into some wariness. After everything that's happened the last year, there are a lot of members of the pack who aren't comfortable with new people."

Ore raised his brows, then glanced at the others. When no one said anything, he asked, "What's happened in the last year to scare them so much?"

"Oh man," someone—Saint, he was pretty sure—muttered behind him.

Apprehension started trickling down his spine, and he looked to Cash. The Enforcer's jaw was tight as he glanced at his alpha.

Ore turned back to Amato. "I'm sorry. Should I not have asked?"

"No, it's okay," he said, sighing and threading his fingers through his hair. "I should have realized you wouldn't know what had happened."

Goddess, they were really starting to make him nervous. Had there been a damn apocalypse that he'd forgotten about?

"About a year ago, a pack up in Michigan decided to change the parahuman world."

"And it's been a fucking mess ever since," Saint added cheerfully.

Well, okay then.