Chapter 23

Chapter

Twenty-Three

BEN

It took only minutes for everything to go wrong.

Ben joined Connor and the enforcers for a quick recon, intending to meet up with Freya and plan out an array of traps that would make cowards run from the territory. It made Ben's blood sing, striding alongside his mate, preparing to protect what was theirs. The little grotto was like a beacon in the back of his mind, calling for him to take Connor there and consummate the wild magic pulsing between them.

But then the Westplains Pack met them amongst the trees.

Connor and his enforcers quickly formed a circle around Ben as dozens of wolves surrounded them. Yipping and snarling, the strangers acted more like a hungry mob than a pack as they ducked in and tried to pull Kris and Seamus away.

Ben grabbed one of Anders's knives, ready to find the gaps between his friends to stab at the wolves. He spied Craven leaning casually against a tree, arms folded and licking his lips like he hadn't eaten in months.

Then he saw Vaughn for the first time.

The alpha was… scary. A scarred, ugly motherfucker who stared greedily at Ben with black eyes and a cruel smirk. He was as tall as Connor and perhaps a decade older, with grey at his temples and hulking muscles that seemed born from brutality. The mob parted for him, and Vaughn grinned, baring sharpened eyeteeth.

Every fiber of his being told Ben to run, run, run.

Why did he ever think he was a match against Vaughn? He didn't stand a chance, not even if luck was on his side.

"You made a mistake, Vaughn," Connor growled, moving slightly to block Vaughn's view of Ben. "You should have never entered Oakford territory."

Vaughn sneered, all teeth. "I'm going to burn your pack to the ground, Stone."

Ben took a shuddering breath. While Oakford might have hundreds of wolves, not all were fighters.

He couldn't bear to be responsible for a single death.

"As for you, sprite, you've tested my patience for long enough," Vaughn said, peering over Connor's shoulder to lock gazes with Ben. "It's time to come home." He looked at Ben like he already owned him.

Bile rose in Ben's throat.

He didn't think he remembered Vaughn from the final day at his clan grotto. It was like a black veil protected his mind from the worst of the screams and pain. He vaguely recalled someone holding a flashlight, white teeth bright and sharp as they laughed. The water became suddenly vile. It burned his skin, causing his arms and chest to blister.

Someone had grabbed him—a cousin, maybe, someone bigger and stronger and safe —and thrown Ben from the pool. Ben was small enough to land underneath a bush unnoticed, in too much pain to cry out. A tall shadow loomed out of the darkness, broad-shouldered with black hair and black eyes, and those white, white teeth. Ben stayed so very still, too scared and in too much agony as the people he loved died from toxic water or the claws of half-shifted wolves.

Ben stumbled back a step, drawing fresh attention to himself.

An evil light gleamed in Vaughn's eyes. "I don't remember you, little sprite. Where were you hiding?"

Ben could hardly think straight. This was the wolf who murdered his people.

He launched forward, going for the wolf's eyes, but Connor grabbed him and pulled him back.

"There's too many," Connor whispered in his ear. "You need to bide your time, Ben."

The tone of his voice... it was like Connor didn't expect to survive this.

With so many enemies surrounding them, Ben feared he was right. Kris and Anders stood on one side, Seamus and Jake on the other, all ready to protect and defend, but Ben already knew how this ended.

These people belonged to him. He refused to lose his family again.

Easing free of Connor's grip, he turned to look up at his alpha. Connor's blue eyes were like stone. Ben briefly cupped his jaw. Time spread between them, and Ben felt a terrible ache over all the things that could have been.

But his beloved deserved to live—his powerful, determined, courageous alpha. So many relied on him, not just Ben.

He turned to Vaughn. "I'll do anything. You can have my luck. I'll teach you how to get control. But the Oakford Pack stays unharmed."

Vaughn grinned widely, showing sharpened incisors. "You arrogant little shit. I've always been in control."

He motioned with his hand, and his wolves attacked. One leapt onto Jake's back, only to be violently wrenched free by Seamus. Three others pounced on Anders and Kris. The enforcers cut and sliced, knives flashing as more of the enemy came to take their place.

Ben braced beside Connor, blocking and dodging the half-hearted strikes aimed at his legs. He bared his teeth in frustration. Vaughn's wolves were more cautious with him, probably fearful of causing an injury that would enrage the murderous alpha.

"Fucking come at me!" he shouted in frustration.

But then Vaughan was in front of him, grabbing him by the throat.

Immediately, Ben couldn't breathe, his throat squeezed tight. Connor roared but was shoved back by a swarm of wolves. Ben scrambled and kicked, no finesse and all panic, like all of the training in the last few months left him. Black spots danced in front of his eyes.

" Mine ," Vaughn growled.

A fresh snarl sounded behind him, and a flash of white and grey fur blurred at the edge of his vision, but half a dozen wolves piled on, and Ben lost sight of Connor again.

Ben thrashed harder.

"You care about him?" Vaughn asked, squeezing tighter.

Ben gasped, "Fuck you."

Vaughn grinned. "I know just how to keep you in line."

Movement came behind him and Ben sensed Craven at his back. His mind took weary paths, running over the blocks and parries the enforcers taught him. He grabbed Vaughn's wrist, squeezing where the joints would hurt.

Vaughn laughed, lifting Ben off his feet and drawing him close. Hot breath, surprisingly minty, brushed over Ben's face.

"I'm going to enjoy wrecking you, sprite."

Something struck Ben on the back of his head, and blackness took him.

Ben moved in and out of consciousness. The first time, he emerged with a jolt, like he'd been picked up and thrown onto a hard metal surface. Other times, he woke from gentle rocking, as if lying in the back of a large truck as it travelled over a bridge or rough road. In bleaker moments, he simply drifted, trying to pull himself out of the soupy darkness, only for the throbbing pain in his head to pull him back under.

Each time he woke, he found himself somewhere dark and cloying. He panicked a little, feeling as if he were underwater and drowning in black mud.

He woke again, having dreamt he heard Connor's voice. He must have made a sound, for strong arms gathered him up.

Ben flailed, unable to see in the darkness. He scratched and clawed, all instinct and blind terror.

"Shh, Ben, it's okay," someone murmured in his ear.

Suddenly, he recognized the muscled arms holding him close. A calloused hand stroked his hair.

Ben clung to Connor as relief and despair formed a lump in his throat. "Why are you here?" he asked in anguish, his voice echoing slightly.

"Quietly, now," Connor murmured. "They can't know we're awake."

Ben ran his hands over Connor, searching for injuries. He made a soft sound of dismay at discovering old blood on Connor's face, along with welts on his arms and a short chain locked around both ankles leading to a bolt in the metal floor. Ben yanked on it, unable to find weaknesses in the chain.

"I've already tried," Connor said. "Here, just let me hold you."

Ben let himself be pulled close. He drew comfort from Connor's warmth and the steady beat of his heart. "Where are the others?" he whispered. The occasional rocking indicated they were still in a large, moving vehicle. He reminded himself to breathe slow and deep. He was no good to anyone if he continued to panic.

"I don't know who made it," Connor said quietly. His arms tightened around Ben. "There's no one here but us."

Ben's eyes stung, and he pressed his face into Connor's chest. "How long was I out?"

Connor pressed his lips to the top of Ben's head. "A few days. They keep coming in and injecting us with something. I've lost track of time."

It partially explained the pounding in Ben's head and the terrible nausea that left him feeling weak-limbed. He felt terribly thirsty.

"We're going home," Ben whispered, lips trembling.

Connor was quiet for a long time. "It's not your home."

No. My home is with you , Ben thought. It terrified him that he could lose his home once again. He reminded himself he wasn't a kid this time, and Connor and his enforcers had helped him regain his strength and taught him how to fight.

But Vaughn was so much bigger and nastier than Ben imagined.

He pressed himself into Connor's chest, burying his face against his beloved's throat. He felt so stupid. He was no match for Vaughn, and now Connor was going to suffer.

"I'm sorry," Ben murmured. "It's all my fault."

Connor remained a solid force holding him close. "Never take the blame for someone else, Ben. You're no more responsible now than when Vaughn attacked your clan."

Tears stung Ben's eyes but he refused to cry. If only they'd had more time. If only his luck wasn't an utter asshole determined to wreak any chance of happiness. If he ever found happiness, it would have been with Connor.

"I'm thirsty," he said after a time.

Connor hesitated. "There's a bottle somewhere around here. I saw it the last time they opened the door." He leaned over, searching in the blackness.

Moments later, a bottle pressed against Ben's hand.

Ben unscrewed the lid and took a mouthful before handing it to Connor.

Connor took a gulp and gave it back. "Finish it, Ben. Whatever happens, stay strong. Vaughn wants you weak—he thinks that's how to dominate a luckbringer."

Honestly, Ben hadn't known any differently about his luck until it rubbed against Connor like a stray cat discovering its favorite person. It tried to tell Ben ever since by conspiring to keep him close to Connor. Ben should have paid attention rather than believing happiness and fated love was for other people. Now Vaughn wanted to destroy everything. Ben wasn't going to let it happen.

"I'm going to kill Vaughn," Ben said.

Connor chuckled against his hair. "I expect so, my beautiful, feral love."

Hours later, the truck jerked to a stop, and Ben held his breath at the sudden quiet.

The rear door opened with a clang, and Vaughn's tall, powerful frame partially blocked the light streaming in. Ben's eyes stung from the brightness, and he pressed against Connor as Vaughn jumped inside.

Ben saw Craven standing outside, a mix of hate and avarice on his face. Behind him was a dirty grey wall of an alley, a dumpster further down. Ben couldn't tell where they were. Certainly far from the mountains and crisp, clean lake he'd grown to love.

Vaughn strode to them and grabbed Ben by the forearm, yanking hard and trying to wrench him from Connor's grip. Ben kicked even as Connor held firm and snarled, the sound so deep in his chest that the hairs rose on the back of Ben's neck.

Vaughn kept his bruising grip on Ben's arm and drew a switchblade. "Let him go, Stone, or I'll decorate the truck with his guts."

Connor's breath continued to be a rattling snarl that vibrated through Ben's spine.

"We all know you need me, Vaughn," Ben said. "So go suck a dick?—"

Lightning quick, Vaughn yanked Ben forward and at the same time kneed Connor in the face. The twin moves wrenched Ben loose, and Vaughn tossed him to the other side of the truck even as Connor roared.

Vaughn was on Ben before he could move, lifting him and throwing him against the wall of the truck. The alpha held him up with a bruising grip on his jaw.

Chains rattled and clanged as Connor fought to reach Ben. "Vaughn, you're a dead man!"

"Shut up and learn, Stone," Vaughn said, not turning around to meet the threat. He squeezed Ben's jaw. "Ready to give me what you promised, sprite?"

Ben bared his teeth and tried to jerk free. "It's bad luck to kill sprites, and you stink of desperation."

The alpha smiled humorlessly. "It was your sweet little voice on the end of the line begging me to rescue you, sprite. I rushed to your aid, did I not? I sent my best man to save you."

Craven leaned against the open door and grinned.

Ben's lip curled. "Your best man got too handsy."

"You can hardly blame him when you smell so pretty." Vaughn turned Ben's face to the side and loudly sniffed his temple. His eyelids fluttered like he'd just taken the best hit. "You tested my patience by running off, sprite. Then you fell into the Oakford Pack's lap."

Ben glared, hoping to hide how much the grip on his face hurt. "Lucky me."

Vaughn slapped him across the cheek, an insulting, stinging hit. "You stupid little prick. You've always been mine."

Ben laughed. "You're a sprite killer, Vaughn. Nothing you do to me will change your luck. You're so fucked!"

Instead of hitting him again, Vaughn leaned in, fingers digging into Ben's cheeks. His tongue scraped along Ben's temple, long and slow across his forehead. He grinned. "Craven wasn't exaggerating. I can taste the luck on you."

Ben shuddered in revulsion at the wetness on his skin.

Connor growled and yanked on the chain without success. "Get your hands off him, Vaughn! You're on borrowed time, you fuck."

"We both know that's not true, Stone. My pack will explode in numbers once it's known I have a luckbringer."

Ben tried to clear his mind. "Only a weak alpha cares about numbers. So what happened, Vaughn? Did you piss off the wrong people? Or did you get into debt you can't bully your way out of?" Ben looked Vaughn up and down, seeing nothing but caged violence in the alpha's massive form. "What's your bad luck, huh?"

It always bothered him that Vaughn never suffered the consequences for killing a whole clan of sprites.

"Oh, my luck hasn't changed, sprite." Vaughn fisted Ben's hair and grinned meanly. With his free hand, he pulled something out of his pocket—a small pill bottle with greyish powder inside. He gave it a shake. "Know what this is?"

"No," Ben spat. It looked like nasty, used chalk scraped off a sidewalk.

"I have it on good authority that the old tales are wrong," Vaughn said. He kissed the bottle. "Sprites don't need to be alive for you to get their luck."

Ben stared blankly at Vaughn. "What do you mean?"

Vaughn made a fake, sympathetic sound. "All this time, and you're so innocent. No wonder you taste so pure."

Ben glanced again at the grey powder, noticing it wasn't all one smooth grain but instead contained gritty bits. Like bone.

Ash and bone.

He froze, blood thundering in his ears before he turned and gagged violently.

"Now he gets it!" Vaughn laughed.

Connor yanked violently on the chain, outrage darkening his face. "You piece of shit! You murdered all those sprites and denied them a burial!"

Vaughn shrugged. "Bad shit happens when you kill a sprite, and I killed just about every last one of them. So I burned their bodies and stuffed the ash into jars." He gave the bottle a jaunty shake. "No more bad luck."

Ben dry-retched, coughing up bile.

Vaughn patted the top of his head condescendingly. "There, there, little one."

Connor growled, "What do you need Ben for?"

Vaughn's smile tightened. "I always wanted a pet."

Wiping his mouth, Ben leaned against the wall and looked up at the alpha's hungry gaze. "That's not it. He's lying."

He suddenly remembered when Craven caught him, how he'd rubbed Ben's dried blood onto his teeth like an exotic drug.

"You're running out," Ben realized. "What do you do with the ash? Snort it? Smoke it?"

"I do like a vodka and sprite in the evening," Vaughn said, laughing like he thought he was hysterical. He stroked Ben's chin in a gross parody of Connor's touch. "You have no idea the amount of money I've won."

"Ben's right," Connor growled. "You're running out. You can't escape the inevitable."

Vaughn's face twitched as he glared over his shoulder. "What do you know, Stone? You fuck the secrets out of him?"

"It's common knowledge, Vaughn," Connor said. "Bad luck starts out subtle. A little less money, maybe you drop a favorite mug."

A dark glitter showed in Vaughn's eyes.

Ben drew the alpha's attention back on himself. "Sure, and then your car gets stolen, or you lose your job, or your house burns down. Then comes the bigger things—loss of friends, loss of strength and health. People who fear you suddenly have no respect; they think they can take you down." Ben smiled up at Vaughn. "You become powerless in whatever form you fear most. So what do you fear, Vaughn?"

The backhand came fast and hard.

Ben crashed to the floor, and just as quickly, was yanked up by his hair. Vaughn struck him again. Dizziness rocked Ben to the side, and he laughed hysterically.

"What do you know, sprite?" Vaughn snarled, grabbing Ben on both sides of his face and squeezing. "Tell me how to undo it, or I've got a nice jar just for you."

Ben spat a mouthful of blood onto the alpha's shirt. "You brought it on yourself. You killed my family, you sick fuck!"

Vaughn hit him again. Ben kicked, his heel connecting with the alpha's thigh. The blows came thick and fast, and Ben could only block a few before he was again pummeled into the floor.

"Enough, Vaughn! You'll kill him!" Connor yelled.

Breathing raggedly, Vaughn picked Ben up and tossed him against the side of the truck again like it was his favorite thing.

Ben crumpled into a ball and took short, agonized breaths. He wanted to crawl to Connor and seek comfort from his beloved. But he couldn't let Vaughn know how much Connor meant to him.

"Maybe I should work you over instead, Stone. Get the sprite to cry pretty tears over you."

Connor's mouth twitched into a snarl, having stretched as far as the chains would allow. "Your time's up, Vaughn. How many of those assholes rushing to obey your orders are loyal? Even Craven couldn't keep his hands to himself."

Vaughn glared at Craven, who suddenly stood to attention at the door.

"I was where you told me to be, boss," Craven said. "Fucking Stone stole your sprite."

Vaughn unclenched his fists. "And still his luck's as bad as mine. It took no effort at all to take down your pack, Stone."

Ben pushed himself off the floor. "You're lying. You ran the moment you got what you came for."

"And I got Stone as a bonus," Vaugh said with a sneer. "No one is going to doubt my rule once they hear what happened to the alpha of Oakford Pack."

So Vaughn's grip on the pack was slipping. Ben was determined to find a way to use it against him.

Vaughn turned to Craven. "Clean the sprite up, and don't waste any blood."

Craven hopped into the truck, brushing past the alpha as Vaughn folded his arms to watch and glare. Ben suffered the indignity of Craven wiping his face with a rag, his meaty hands touching more than was necessary.

Ben met Connor's gaze over the second's shoulder. Connor snarled in silent agreement.

Craven was going to die, too.