Alpha Wolf

Chapter Six

Scarlett sat pressed up against Michael in the back of Todd’s SUV. She was sure her mate would have been much happier in the front seat where he could have stretched out his long legs, but he had staunchly refused to leave her side. He’d even sat next to her while she had personally accepted thirty-two apologies for bad behavior.

It was odd, watching these men who had either treated her like a servant or downright ignored her now approaching her with their eyes down and begging for her forgiveness. Truth was, she was happy to give it. Since Michael had arrived, she’d started to see that the whole pack was infected with bad ideas and the wrong teachings.

Michael had spoken to his wolf silently in the hotel room and it hadn’t looked as if he’d berated it or put it down. If anything, he’d seemed to enjoy the conversation. Step one in fixing the pack problem might be to have everyone work on their internal relationship with his or her wolf. She shrugged, not that it would be her problem since she was leaving with Michael to go to Maine and maybe die, therefore never seeing any of these people again.

She wasn’t sad about leaving New Orleans. It had never felt like home. Even though she didn’t remember her first years of life, she could remember the day she’d been carted off from her home five minutes after her parents’ funeral by a man she’d never met before who called himself Nero.

He kept babbling on and on about things she didn’t understand. Wolves, shifters, destiny and pack—he’d confused her. She was three years old and her mom and dad were dead. He’d tried to explain. Her mother hadn’t been okay for her daddy. It hadn’t been okay that they’d married. Her daddy should have undone something. He hadn’t.

But now they had to see if she was a wolf.

That had seemed silly. Of course she wasn’t a wolf, she was a little girl. She’d stuck her thumb in her mouth.

Scarlett blinked away the memory. When was the last time she’d thought about that?

Over the years, things had become clearer. Nero hadn’t killed her parents, but he hadn’t stopped the pack elders who had. Fortunately they were all dead now. No one who tried to run the New Orleans pack lived very long.

Still, if things were going to get better, if everyone was going to listen to Michael, and start behaving the way their wolves apparently wanted them to, then she might have liked to stay around and see it.

Turning to look at Michael, who had his eyes closed as he leaned his head against the back of the seat, she thanked whoever had decided she should be given to him. So far he’d been fair, brave and kind.

But then they hadn’t gotten to Zack yet. What would he do to Zack? She narrowed her eyes. It might be okay if he killed Zack, she might actually like that. She almost gasped at the thought. What was the matter with her?

If they were alone, she might have the courage to ask him. Todd, Barge and Seamus surrounded them—not to mention the two dozen or so cars that followed behind like they were in some kind of funeral procession. Where were they all going to park?

Michael exhaled loudly and opened his eyes. He gazed at her through his wolf eyes.

What did that mean? Why had they changed?

Reaching up with her shaking hand, she touched the top of his eyelid. He blinked and smiled at her.

“Why are your eyes wolf?”

“Michael’s basically asleep.”

She blinked. What? “I’m sorry?” Realization dawned on her like a light bulb going off. “Oh … you’re his wolf?”

Having never had one of her own, she wasn’t sure exactly what to do.

“That’s right.” He blinked twice. “Our boy is exhausted, but that’s what happens when he fights twice in two days and doesn’t eat.”

She gasped. Oh god, she’d never thought about it. She was accustomed to not eating for long periods of time but the men, the male shifters, they required food and lots of it.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t even think of it.”

The wolf speaking through Michael’s face smiled. “Now don’t trouble yourself, pretty lady. He’s a big boy. He can and should remember to eat.” Michael’s body shifted and he moved until his face was close to hers. Staring her straight in the eyes he spoke again. “I just have one question.”

She swallowed. “Yes?”

“Why are you hiding in there?”

“What?”

Michael blinked twice and grabbed his head, his eyes turning back to his brown depths.

“What’s going on?”

She stuttered. “I’m not sure. You were talking to me but it was your wolf.”

“Was I?” He shook his head. “He hasn’t done that to me since I was a teenager.

What did the old boy want?”

“I’m not sure. It was confusing. Except he did point out that you haven’t been fed.”

“Oh.” He laughed, a snicker, more than a hearty laugh. “That’s right. We can eat after I handle this and before I take care of Zack.”

Todd turned around from the passenger seat up front. “Oh! Is Scarlett going to cook?”

Michael narrowed his eyes. “She’s not anyone’s slave anymore.”

Before she could stop herself, she put her hand on Michael’s arm. “No, it’s okay. I love to cook.”

Her mate cocked his head to the side. “Really?”

She smiled. This she could speak on easily. “I love it.”

Todd nodded his head, still facing them. “She’s the best cook in New Orleans.”

Her cheeks heated up. “Stop it. You don’t have to say that. He’s not going to beat you up again. You’ve apologized.”

“That’s not necessarily true, sweetheart. I might beat Todd up again.”

Michael’s eyes sparkled when he spoke and she realized he teased her. It was the first time anyone had ever done that. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it. The sensation was … odd.

Todd wasn’t done. “Seriously, Michael, when we’re done with this, can we go back to Cole’s and let Scarlett cook everyone dinner?”

She loved the idea. For some people cooking a meal was a task or something they dreaded, for her it was peace and order. And then if people actually liked what you made well then it was an accomplishment.

“I’d love to.”

She gasped, realizing she hadn’t asked Michael’s permission. Maybe he’d wanted to do something else, maybe he hated the idea. She looked down at the car floor.

“If Scarlett loves the idea then that is what we’ll do.”

She jerked her head up. “What would you like for lunch, Todd?”

It would be a late lunch, so she’d make it big. The three shifters started arguing about what they wanted to eat and she sat back to enjoy the show.

Michael took her hand. “Is that what you do for a job? You know, the career you have to have to pay for everyone else?”

“That bar you were in yesterday? Floozies? I work there.” She shrugged. “It’s simple work, bar food, a little red beans and rice. Kind of dull actually. My dream is…”

She stopped. The last thing she wanted to do was to start rambling off about nonsense to Michael. Not when they were making such progress to get to know one another. Not, she finally admitted to herself, when they were on their way to the pack wielder.

Even if she wasn’t supposed to say or think things about the pack wielder ending her mate relationship anymore…

But he was nodding and his expression was so honest and open, with his eyes wide and his grin infectious. “Your dream? Go on, tell me.”

“Well, it’s not unique, everyone in New Orleans wants to own a restaurant. It’s like a condition for living here or something.”

Michael rubbed his nose. “I can’t get you a restaurant here but I can get you one.”

She gaped at him. “You can?”

“When we get back home. Actually, it’s perfect. Well, perfect if you don’t mind cooking for thirty or forty really hungry shifters who will worship the ground you walk on. Oh and also whatever human guests show up at the hotel from time to time. They’re mostly gone now. It’s not safe to have them while we’re under constant attack.”

She clapped her hands together. “I’m kind of confused by some of that, but if you mean that in Maine I can have a restaurant then you made my day, my week, oh, Michael, my whole life.”

Without another thought, she squirmed around as she undid her seatbelt and threw her arms around him. Michael laughed and held her close. It was then she realized all the conversation in the car had ceased. Michael must have sensed it too as he gently let her go and looked at their three car mates.

“What’s wrong, boys?”

Todd smiled, this time with discernable sadness in his eyes. “Nothing, Michael.

We’re here.”

Barge pulled the car into it a spot and they all got out. Even as they did, Scarlett couldn’t help but dwell on the change of mood in the car. For a moment, she held eye contact with Todd, refusing to look away. She knew exactly what he was thinking. They didn’t want Michael to go. Things were getting better and if he left, what would they do?

Finally, she looked down, not because she was feeling submissive or scared. No, because there wasn’t a thing she could do for Todd, Barge, Seamus, or any of the pack and it wasn’t because she resented them or held bitterness, which likely she did even if she didn’t want to dwell on it. There wasn’t a solution.

Was there?

As the array of cars they’d travelled with arrived and parked, Michael stared up at the building in front of them. The sign said “Mandy’s Candies”.

She grinned. “Doesn’t look like a pack shop does it?”

“I don’t know what a pack shop looks like. Back home, we all live together on an island so the very fact that you all live apart, visit each other, and come to a shop to visit someone called a wielder is new to me.” He looked down at her and her stomach flip-flopped. “Is the wielder Mandy?”

“No, I’m not sure who Mandy is. It’s kind of just the name of the shop. The wielder is Joe.”

Michael nodded. “Good to know.” He walked ahead a few steps before turning around to Todd again. “You’re in charge of her safety again.”

Todd’s eyes brightened up. “Yes, Michael.”

Her mate sauntered into the store, letting the door close behind him with a thud.

Scarlett took a deep steadying breath. This was the first time she’d seen him move like that. Michael always seemed so focused, so determined in his stride. Just now he’d moved as if he were lazy and there was something about that deceptive sway that made her more nervous than any of her his earlier fights.

Barge walked next to her and stood still. “Scarlett?”

She looked at him. “Yes?”

“I think Michael’s going to kill the wielder.”

She gulped. “How do you know?”

“There was just something about him right now that was different. Even when he took us down on the street, he acted less controlled. Right now, he seems more like an animal than a man.”

She didn’t want him killing the wielder. Zack, maybe, but not the wielder. Fisting her hands at her side, she ran into the shop with Todd and Barge on her heels.

“Michael,” she called out as she walked through the entranceway. No one stood in the front of the store. Glass candy containers lined the wall; the displays that showed kids happily eating various sugary creations were all in place. There were no telltale signs of struggle and yet she knew it wasn’t good that the place was empty. Michael hadn’t entered and just had a fast conversation.

Sniffing the air, she followed his scent. Rounding the corner, she took the stairs leading to the basement of the store two at a time. Almost no buildings in New Orleans had lower floors because of the water level but this one did. She’d never known why, but it was where the wielder gave them their vitamin shots.

She heard Michael’s growls before she made it down the stairs. “Michael!” She called his name again and he looked up.

He had Joe by the neck dangling him in the air. Surrounding them were the ten female shifters who made up the pack. Five of them were latent, five could shift. They all stared at Michael, big eyed.

“Don’t kill him. He’s not worth the effort.”

“He’s been giving you something harmful and he’s a wizard. You might say I have a serious problem with witches and wizards. It might be fair to say that, as a rule, I hate every last one of them.”

The women gasped and Molly, one of her few friends in the pack grabbed Scarlett’s arm. “You know this man?”

“He’s my mate.” Scarlett pretended she didn’t feel the pride at being able to say that.

Molly raised an eyebrow. “And he wants to keep you?”

“He does.”

Michael turned his head, still holding the wizard and looked at Molly. “I am just going to say this one more time and you can all tell whoever needs to hear it. Mates are determined by fate. I am more than thrilled with mine—I’m humbled and grateful—and anyone who suggests I might do anything to alter my circumstances is going to get pounded in the face. That goes for men and women. Am I clear?”

Silence filled the room until Todd spoke. “Crystal clear, Michael.”

Michael shook his head and Scarlett could feel the sudden amusement coming off him. “Thanks, Todd.”

Scarlett moved to the center of the room where Michael held the wizard off the ground. “Do you think it’s remotely possible that you are overreacting because you are hungry and tired?”

Flaring his nostrils, he stared at Joe. “No.”

She arched an eyebrow. Alright, he wasn’t going to be reasonable. She’d have to take a different approach. “If you kill him you won’t know why or how he convinced Nero to start drugging us. You won’t know what he drugged us with.”

“I’m not going to kill him before he tells me what I need to know.”

Joe’s feet dangled in the air. When he spoke, his voice sounded choked, as if he couldn’t get enough air. “Help me. He will kill me. The Kanes kill witches and wizards.”

Michael shook him so hard his teeth rattled. “We killed one witch. She was the one who cursed my family thirty years ago and her work made our Alpha, Tristan, try to kill his mate. And if you want to be accurate about it, Cullen Murphy killed her, not a Kane.”

“Everyone knows he’s the Alpha’s right hand man. No way did he do that without orders from a Kane.”

Michael walked with him over his head, pressing him against the back of the wall.

Scarlett didn’t turn around as the rest of the wolves they brought with them came down the stairs.

“You seem to know an awful lot of my family business.” Michael’s eyes turned wolf. “For the record, I ordered her killed. At that time, I was Alpha of Westervelt.”

In the way that she could see things when people spoke, Scarlett could see the scene almost as if she lived it herself. Michael had been stressed, beyond stressed—he was wiped out—his brother, Tristan, had returned to Westervelt with a mate. That had made all of them thrilled. Maybe it meant the curse was lifting. But Tristan still wouldn’t acknowledge he was Alpha.

Gasping, she could feel Michael’s pain as if it was her own. This had never happened with one of her visions before. She didn’t know why it was happening now. She blinked to try to clear it but couldn’t. No, Michael knew he wasn’t Alpha. Knew it like he knew his name or what color his wolf was. He didn’t want to be Alpha, had never wanted it, but he was determined to hold the pack together for Tristan. He would keep it in tact until his brother claimed it.

And he had. But he still felt so much shame. Why? She couldn’t understand. It wasn’t clear and the scene was changing. Ashlee, Tristan’s mate, with red hair and sad eyes, had dragged back a witch. They needed to kill her to get the curse off the island.

He never liked having to order a fatality. It felt dirty, wrong. It wasn’t the wolf way.

He liked to fight, to hunt, to challenge. Not to order one of his wolves to kill someone.

But for Tristan, their rightful Alpha, his little brother … he’d do anything.

She watched as he turned to Cullen and gave the order with a nod of his head. That quickly it was ordered, that quickly it was done.

Finally, Michael’s memory cleared from her mind and she was back in the basement watching him hold above his head the man who most likely had been poisoning her for most of her life.

She walked toward them. “Joe, the best thing you could do to reach my mate’s compassionate side right now would be for you to stop screaming for help. It’s not coming. Why don’t you try, instead, to tell him what you’ve been doing, why you’ve been doing it and anything else you think might be relevant.”

Joe stared at her. “Who gave you a backbone?”

Behind her she heard Molly growl, but it was nothing compared to Michael’s snarl.

Scarlett grabbed Michael’s arm. “It’s okay. His insults don’t hurt me. They’re just words.”

Real pain, to Scarlett, was a combination of the physical with the emotional. She could survive either of the two alone but combined, they beat her down.

“Let’s just say I’m not afraid of you anymore.”

Not when her mate could snap Joe’s neck anytime he felt like it.

She sighed. Maybe she should just back up and let Michael end this whole thing.

“I’m trying to help you.”

“Okay, I’ll talk.”

Michael bared his teeth and as she watched urine slide down Joe’s pant leg through the opening at the bottom of his pants and onto the floor. Scarlett shuddered. The acrid smell wafted through the air and she wanted to gag. Disgusting.

She could see Michael’s teeth had elongated in his mouth. He was already starting to shift. Having never done it herself, she couldn’t identify with the sensation, but she’d heard that half-shifts were hard. That meant he held onto his human form by sheer will alone. Probably, he couldn’t be pushed much further without losing it.

Joe spoke. “When Nero heard what happened at Westervelt after Michael’s mother brought Angel here, he became convinced that his own females were going to revolt and try to take over the pack to protect themselves from the Westervelt fate. He hired me to keep the females weak. That’s what I’ve done. I was only following orders.”

Michael dropped him to the floor and Joe landed with an oomph and a groan.

Sticking his foot on top of him to keep him down, he finally spoke. “Where’s the antidote?”

“No antidote. It just wears off. They go through a withdrawal and then they’re clear of it. None of it is lethal, just things to keep them weak, to keep their wolves from gaining in strength.”

Michael removed his foot and whirled around. She turned in the direction that he looked.

The women that surrounded the scene had a mixture of horror and sadness on their faces. She felt the same pain. They’d lost so many females over the years. Strong, healthy women who had suddenly succumbed to bouts of illness or been struck down in fights with humans, which should have been impossible. Some had chosen the ritual suicide to end their lives.

Scarlett closed her eyes. She wanted to vomit and she wasn’t sure she could hold it in. Michael swept her up in his arms and she was engulfed in his now familiar scent, feeling safe and secure even as the world fell to pieces.

“One more thing, Joe. How did you convince mated men to throw over their women?”

Joe sighed. “That’s a little more complicated. That takes a curse.”

Michael growled. “I hate curses.”

Scarlett opened her eyes. Michael turned to the men in the room. “Well, gentlemen, he did this to your women even if he was ‘just following orders’. I suppose I’ll leave it to you to decide what to do with him. I’d listen to your wolves in this instance. I’m going to take my woman somewhere where she can start withdrawing. Anyone who wants to rest should come to Cole’s.”

Michael took her up the stairs fast. Behind her she heard thirty some odd wolves start to growl. Whether her pack mates realized it or not, Michael Kane had just ordered another fatality. Her mate’s face was firm and stoic.

“You’re teaching them how to behave.”

“Someone had to.”