23. Twenty-Three

twenty-three

D onnelle made the crucial error of checking over his shoulder. I cocked my fist and slammed it into his jaw. I heard something crack, but I was pretty sure it was one of my fingers that broke. Sharp claws raked down my side, shredding my shirt and drawing more blood.

Penn’s fury blew through the house like a tornado. Gold eyes murderous, the red wolf barreled for the strays like they were bowling pins. They tried to run, but there was nowhere to go in such tight quarters. Penn caught one by the tail as the other wolf went for the kitchen. Glass shattered when the stray crashed through my back patio doors. Penn snagged another stray near the stairs and tossed him through the banister.

I thought Donnelle might have had the good sense to run while Penn dealt with the others. Clearly, I’d overestimated him. When Penn finally finished with the outsiders and went for Donnelle, the coward used me like a shield.

My bloody and torn clothing didn’t make Penn any calmer.

“These are alpha’s orders, Penn!” Donnelle shouted over the livid growls. “Even you can’t stand in the way of that.”

I kicked backward at Donnelle’s shins and tried to twist out of his hold.

In a graceful instant, Penn shifted. As a wolf, his coat obscured blood. In human form, the violent streaks slicing across his torso and cheek said this was not his first fight.

“Let. Her. Go.” Penn didn’t raise his voice, which gave a calm-before-the storm vibe that I found much scarier than outright yelling.

Donnelle’s hands shook. “The alpha said—”

“Finn gave an order for Drake to be torn from her home, bleeding and bruised in ripped pajamas?” Penn lunged, shifting back.

Donnelle shoved me and made a break for the door. He barely made it off the porch before the red wolf overtook him. Penn tossed his human prey into the yard and allowed Donnelle a glimmer of hope before pouncing.

I watched from the doorway and wondered why Donnelle didn’t shift. Penn’s influence was harder to fight when they were both wolves. It wasn’t until I saw the porch light reflection on the metal cuff around his wrist, that it occurred to me he couldn’t transform.

Penn pinned Donnelle beneath a mammoth paw, and I felt his intentions as clearly as if he’d broadcast them throughout the mountains.

“No!” I screamed.

The red wolf paused and turned his head to look at me. I stepped out onto the porch and noticed Oscar injured in the corner, laying on his side and panting. With that sight, I almost let Penn kill Donnelle.

All the noise had brought people from their houses, including Finneus. He and Malia stepped out onto my father’s porch. I kept my eyes on Penn but spoke just as much for his brother’s benefit.

“We are all mourning his sister’s sacrifice,” I announced. “I’m sure he’s not in his right mind. Please, let him live.”

Penn shifted and lobbed an uppercut to Donnelle’s face before storming back toward the house. His gaze went to my legs. Without missing a stride, he wrapped an arm around my waist and dragged me inside, slamming the door behind us.

“Are you okay?” Penn examined my face before studying the rest of me for signs of something life-threatening.

I bit my lip and nodded. “It looks worse than it is.”

Penn cupped my jaw and ran his fingers over my cheeks to check for bruising. When he was satisfied, he stepped back and got worked up all over again.

“Don’t move,” he growled, only going as far as the downstairs bathroom.

Instead of towels to clean my injuries, he had two pairs of his sweats. He shrugged into one and then handed me the other to put on over my pajamas.

“I have my own clothes,” I pointed out.

He unfolded the sweatshirt and pulled it over my head. “We’re leaving,” he said.

I snatched the sweatpants and stepped into them myself while Penn fished his truck keys from bowl near the door.

“Where are we going?” I demanded as Penn led me toward the vehicle. “What about Oscar? We can’t just leave him. Where’s Elton? What about the strays?”

He stopped by the passenger door and put his hands on my shoulders, squeezing gently. “Breathe, Drake. Oscar is going to be fine. People are on the way to help him. Elton is with Evera and Grace. And the strays are the reason we’re leaving. You aren’t safe here.” He unlocked the door and offered me help inside.

Once we were on the way to wherever Penn had in mind, he pulled out his cell and stabbed in Finneus’s number.

“Tell me the truth, Finn,” Penn snapped when his brother answered.

“Is she hurt?” Finneus asked, almost sounding like he cared.

“Don’t,” Penn warned. “Answer me.”

Finneus sighed into the phone. “No. Now answer me. Where are you taking her?”

Penn ended the call. Finneus called back several times, but Penn silenced the ringer and ignored the lit screen.

“Do you believe him?” I asked after the fifth callback.

Penn turned the truck away from town. “I do.”

“Then why didn’t you tell him where we’re going?” I asked.

“Because he already knows there’s only one place I would take you.”

A few minutes later, I realized I knew where too. It had been years since I visited the old farm. The land had once belonged to Penn’s grandfather on his mother’s side, but the brothers had inherited it while Tavin was still alive.

“I didn’t know you still came out here.”

Penn pulled to a stop in front of the snow-covered porch and cut the headlights. “Neither does anyone else.”

He cleared a path to the front door and used a key from his pocket to undo the lock. He took my hand and led me upstairs to a second-floor bathroom and turned on the shower.

“Most of the bites should’ve healed,” he said. “If not, I have some of Frann’s stuff in the kitchen.”

I nodded and swallowed the sudden urge to cry. “Okay.”

He pulled towels from a cabinet and placed them on the sink. “I’ll grab you some clean clothes.”

“Okay,” I repeated.

Penn started for the door, and I wanted to ask him to stay. The thought of being alone just then nearly sent me into full-blown panic mode. He hesitated but didn’t turn.

“Do you want me to stay, Drake?” he asked, voice low and controlled.

Steam billowed from around the plaid shower curtain.

I couldn’t bring myself to say yes. It felt weak when I’d already needed him to step in and save me—again.

Penn sighed. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

“I’m fine,” I insisted, feeling exceptionally weak.

He arched an eyebrow. “So, if I go start a fire downstairs, you’ll be okay?”

“Of course,” I replied, my voice lacking an ounce of conviction. The sound of it concerned me—I needed to project strength and resilience, not neediness.

Without letting him answer, I made a shooing motion with my hands toward the door. “Stop hovering.”

As soon as the bathroom door clicked shut behind him, I regretted my words a little. More than anything, I needed to surround myself with the strength of people I trusted, as if their confidence in me might permeate and make a tougher version of myself.

I waited until he’d gone before shedding my clothes and stepping into the shower. Most of my injuries had already healed. Aside from the dried blood and some of the deeper wounds that left behind puckered flesh, little evidence remained of the attacks.

That didn’t stop me from sitting on the shower floor as the water washed away all the shitty things I couldn’t control. At the moment, the strays were on the top of my shit list.

And Donnelle.

What had he hoped to accomplish by bringing that legion to my door? I knew scorned men held grudges, but for Gaia’s sake, storming my house with outlaws took it entirely too far.

Then I remembered his words. “Someone needs to teach you respect.”

Fuck him. If Donnelle couldn’t handle my rejection without spouting shit like that, he was a lost cause. No one worthy of the Ophiuchus name would’ve lashed out in that way, let alone leading a band of marauders through my house.

Fresh tears plucked at my eyes. I’d spent a lot of time making the house next to my father’s a home; it had taken them a single moment to destroy every sense of safety I’d felt within those walls.

And now I was here. In a stash house with Penn. Would the strays stay in my space, lounging in the living room and sprawling on my carefully chosen Egyptian cotton sheets?

Fuck my life.

Then I remembered I’d been sure I was next on the chopping block, and I thought of Penn. He’d brought me here, to his familiar home, purely because he cared about my safety.

With those thoughts, I vowed to be more grateful. I was here, I was alive, and Penn had seemingly gone out of his way to ensure that both were true.

After quietly lurking around the country home while Penn took phone calls the next day, Finneus sent an invitation to another black-tie affair. The linen stationery offended me as I processed the tragedy of the ceremonies. Sadly, I knew a declined invite wasn’t an option.

Evera showed up mid-afternoon to bring the necessities she could salvage from my house, including street clothes, toiletries, makeup, and of course several formal dresses.

Another gown, another opportunity to plaster a fake smile on my face and pretend everything was alright as traitorous pack members glared and talked shit about me, loudly enough for me to hear.

Delightful , I thought as I descended the stairs in a black gown with swirling gold snakes wrapping the bodice. I’d gotten ready on autopilot, feeling more adrift than ever.

Penn’s eyebrows raised when I stepped outside,

“This was custom-made and has more gold than black,” I announced, trying to preempt any chastisement from him.

His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something, but then his gaze raked me from my intricate gold sandals to the half topknot in my hair.

He might’ve been pissed and concerned in equal measure, but his eyes lingered on the bare skin between my breasts before quickly flashing away.

Excellent , I thought.

This time, I walked into the ballroom of the Temple of the Alpha with reclaimed vigor. A hundred eyes followed my movements as I slipped into the empty back row of seats—it was easier to sit myself there than wait for a slight that would inevitably come.

A flurry of stoicism overtook me, and I spread the mermaid tail train of my gown until it blocked both seats beside me in a clear statement—leave me the fuck alone.

I’d arrived earlier than many, so I waited as the other wolves took their places. No one dared to join the traitor’s daughter for another formal gathering. Until Evera arrived. She wore a short crimson dress with a full-length emerald coat that countered the short hemline’s scandalous look.

Without hesitation, Evera and her mother cut to the right to join me. Grace stopped to kiss both my cheeks as I rose to greet her, then she squeezed my bare shoulder.

“You are a warrior,” she murmured.

The words bolstered me, exactly how she meant them to. The Matthews claimed the seats on either side of me in a resolute declaration—they were with me.

The move initiated a whisper in the other pack members. I braced my shoulders and shielded my mind and my heart.

No matter what, I knew the truth. My father had been the protector of this pack; the glue that held us together.

A hush rippled through the onlookers when Finneus entered the room flanked by his same strays. Penn entered with him but swerved to me and stood in the aisle beside me. He didn’t acknowledge any of us, but Evera slipped to my other side and made room for Penn to stand beside me as a sentry.

Despite the chaos and unpredictability of the strays, I felt safe when Penn was beside me. I focused on the heat of my arm when it brushed against my skin.

Finneus stood before the center throne—my father’s place. Malia joined from somewhere in the wings. Dark energy swirled around her, heavy and rancid even from my place in the back row.

Finneus took a moment to gaze down at me, and I wondered for a moment if he’d demand I take a place on the dais. Instead, he switched his charm on, running his fingers through the artfully arranged dark curls.

If he hadn’t been my gravest enemy, I might’ve enjoyed it.

He’s broody as fuck, not to mention a vile traitor , I reminded myself.

Penn moved to stand just behind me, half of his chest flush with my back.

I wanted to sink into the contact, to rest my weight upon someone else for even a nanosecond.

Get it together .

Then I saw the velvet box in his hand. What the hell was Finneus planning to do? My wolf surged, begging to spring forward and snatch the necklace that belonged to my mother.

Chest puffed out, Finneus raised both hands to rouse a howl of victory before the room fell silent.

“The glory of the Twin Comets finds us here in the sacred space once again,” Finneus declared. His words echoed like an ominous warning, bouncing from the glass ceiling to reverberate inside my head. “Gaia has blessed my choice after extensive deliberation.” His gaze swept to Malia, who nodded.

A girl named Paulina—Paula to everyone who’d ever known her—strode forward with an air of condescension, as if she felt the throne was made for her. Shoulders tucked back, she ascended the steps to the dais and gave the faintest of nods to Finneus.

He cupped her cheek in his palm, his thumb sweeping to caress her cheekbone.

“My mate,” he announced. His hand flipped open the jewelry case, the faint moonlight shimmering on the blue velvet. If I’d thought kind and naive Belinda was unworthy of my mother’s necklace, I experienced an entirely different level of rage with this slight.

Paula was an asshole through and through—I’d known her my whole life and had yet to find a redeeming quality in her.

Nevertheless, my heart ached for her—no matter how special and adored she felt at this moment, sometimes survival required fading into the background.

At least, that had worked for me thus far.

Malia approached Paula and whispered something in her ear. Paula’s face lit up while also seeming to lose all color. Malia wrapped her arm around Paula’s waist, and they turned to look at all of us.

The howl was inevitable. The domed ceiling echoed the noise of the pack until it was impossible to endure. My wolf longed to break free and wreak havoc, but I couldn’t let it happen.

Calm and easy to deal with , I reminded myself. You can do this.

Penn must’ve sensed my anxiety, or maybe he saw the hint of claws replacing my fingernails. Either way, he threaded his fingers through mine from behind me. I wanted to run, to destroy everything Finneus loved.

I let myself lean back against his firm chest.

I give up , I thought. Next to me, Evera’s eyebrows raised. I didn’t care.

Everything had finally slammed against me as I was forced to watch the pomp and circumstance on the dais. It was all bullshit, and I was exhausted.

I felt like a coiled toy bouncing down a long flight of stairs. Except, I had a resolute man ready to kill anyone who disrespected me.

What was up with that? A traitorous thought scampered through my mind—was Team Finneus luring me into a false sense of security?

I stepped forward so we were no longer touching. My message was received, yet Penn didn’t hesitate as he drew even with me again. Then it hit me… Penn had put himself between me and the strays lining the back of the room.

After the brawl they’d incited, the strays had been relegated to the edges of our pageantry.

Ignoring the ridiculous spectacle on the stage, I parsed the scent of Penn. With my shifter senses, I detected cardamom, orange, and a dash of bergamot. I inhaled deeply, letting my shoulders sag.

Penn’s arm snaked from behind me, his hand landing on my hip bone. The move felt possessive, but I didn’t mind. Maybe he thought the best defense for me against Finneus’ untamed cronies was a good offense—was he claiming me in their eyes?

A stray behind us knocked the fist of his buddy beside him before shifting.

The shrill whistle stilled me—Penn had pulled rank with the newcomers. They stood back as one in wolf form, bowed in supplication even as the spectacle continued in front of us.

Something in my gut flipped a little, sending heat to my chest. Penn commanding a mass of wolves was kind of hot…

He raked his unkempt blond strands with his fingers—he hadn’t bothered to pull his hair back for the umpteenth formal occasion in a week.

Do you want to survive? I challenged myself. Get it together.