Pretty Poison (7 page)

Where were they?

At jobs? City shifters primarily worked for companies owned by other shifters, skilled labor passed from father to son. The kids should be underfoot somewhere, though. Laughing. Noisy. Playing and already vying for position in the community. They attended public schools with humans while they were young, but once they began shifting at puberty, school was over. Groups of adolescent wolves would’ve gathered at the alpha’s home to begin lessons in shifter craft—hunting, tracking, and basic survival skills—before they began professional apprenticeships to learn their future jobs.

Fletcher guided him to another broad empty corridor.

They were all gone, the shifters who called this place home. Or where they reported for work and training. The scent of so many wolves dazzled Noah. He sensed them nearby, perhaps watching him just out of sight.

“Wait here.” Fletcher rapped his knuckles on a black-lacquered door before twisting the knob to furtively enter, leaving Noah alone, but not before Noah caught a whiff of scents from the room within. Wade’s, of course. Noah had washed before the shift had caught him up, but he still stank of the alpha. Even if he’d soaked in a tub, he’d never forget Wade’s smell. His dick stirred, stiffening to attention in response to that scent, but Wade’s musk didn’t force him to stumble a few automatic steps in retreat. The perfume of his mate, no matter how tantalizing, couldn’t stagger him. Not like this.

Dad. His brothers, too. Mikael, William, and Geoffrey.

The scents confused him, mixing seamlessly, especially difficult to tell them apart with the strong aroma of Wade calling to him, not to mention the variety of scents from the countless unseen shifters nearby. But his family was here. In this house. With Wade.

Noah’s heartbeat trebled. Panic filled him, flooded his mind. He dropped one of his forearm crutches, whipping his hand to his neck to reassure himself with the evidence of the deal he’d made with Wade. Noah winced when his shaky fingers found the bite. Fletcher was right. The wound had scabbed, but it
was
there. His fingernail caught the edge of one, ripping the mending skin. He shuddered at the wispy copper scent of his blood, as well as at the wet that dampened his fingertip.

He’d kept his part of the bargain, satisfied his family’s obligations in the mating pact. He’d cooperated, and in exchange, Wade had promised amnesty. Noah had no reason to trust that Wade would honor his end of their deal, none at all, but in his gut, he did.

Except his family was here. Where they should not be.

He jumped when the door opened, and when it closed with a muted click, his hand jerked, scratching the wound at his neck open further.

“Okay, he’s ready—Christ on a pony, are you
trying
to set him off?” Glaring, Fletcher marched to him. He grabbed the crutch from the floor where Noah had dropped it and shoved his hand in a pocket, digging out a wadded tissue. He pushed it at Noah along with the crutch. When Noah lurched backward, Fletcher seized his bicep in a steely grip. “Your family won’t believe Wade is mated to you without proof. They’re demanding to see the bite and in lieu of that, your swift return. Which means Wade’s territorial instincts are shrieking. Only his promise to you is preventing him from ripping their throats out. If he smells your blood, if he suspects for one second that you’ve been hurt in his absence...Cover it.” He shook Noah when Noah stared, frozen. “God damn it, cover it!” Noah slapped the tissue against the seeping bite and fumbled with his crutches, dropping one again. “No, leave it,” Fletcher said when Noah stooped to retrieve the forearm crutch. “You can’t keep pressure on the bite and use both crutches. You don’t need them, anyway. Your stubborn, too-human mind just hasn’t figured that out yet.”

“H-he hasn’t hurt them?” Noah pushed the tissue into the wound, tearing another scab away entirely. The tissue wetted. “My family loves me. They probably just want to make sure I’m all right. We’ve been among humans who would’ve...He won’t punish them?”

“Wade swore he wouldn’t.” Fletcher firmed his grip on Noah. “We’re going to walk into the conference room. Lean against me; I won’t let you fall. Keep the bite covered until Wade says. He’s too close to tearing your sire’s spine out for the insult of intruding on your mating, for challenging it. Don’t talk. Don’t even look at them. If you do exactly what Wade says, we might make it through the next ten minutes without a brawl. Got it?”

Heartbeat stuttering, Noah nodded.

“Let’s go.”

Chapter Four

Fletcher guided Noah through the door. Panic mounting that his family had foolishly endangered the amnesty agreement he’d sacrificed his freedom and virginity for, Noah did exactly what he’d been told. He pasted his stare to the glossy wood floorboards, peering up through his lashes only to spy Wade in a chair ahead. The royal blue shirt Wade wore had been unbuttoned, the collar gaping. The material had been pushed aside at one shoulder, revealing faint white pinprick scars where Noah’s teeth had sunk into him. By nightfall, the faint marks would be gone.

The scent of his brothers and his dad as well as their alarm zipped through Noah like lightning. Without the beta’s hard grasp, his steps would’ve faltered, but he kept moving. The sooner his family realized he was okay and made their escape, the safer they would all be. Noah believed Wade would keep his word. He wouldn’t lash out at his family for dealing with humans, but showing up without invitation and demanding to see Noah insulted the city shifters, who would perceive the concern of his father and brothers as distrust in Wade’s ability to care for his mate. Noah wouldn’t test the alpha’s patience more than his family already had.

Fletcher jerked out the chair next to Wade and pushed Noah down onto it. He focused on his lap, chin neatly tucked to his chest. Obedient. He trembled only a little when the alpha’s hand skimmed his shoulder, then cupped his nape. Wade angled Noah’s head to the side and twisted Noah’s right shoulder forward. “Show them,” Wade said.

Noah drew the wadded tissue away. Once he dropped that hand to his lap, he winced at the splotches of blood on the tissue. And waited.

No one spoke. No one had to. The sour scent of despair exploded from his family, joined by the aroma of gloating triumph from Wade.

Noah’s stomach pitched and rolled.

“I didn’t think...None of us believed him strong enough. We hoped we’d be able to take him home,” his father said, voice strained. “We’ll send his clothes and books. His computers. He has extra braces and crutches, too. His medicines.”

“Burn all of it.” Wade squeezed the back of Noah’s neck. “I’ll provide anything he needs.”

Noah froze when a chair across the conference table scraped the floor.

The muscle of Wade’s thigh bunched.

“Sit, Mikael,” his father said on a low growl.

“Look at him, Dad!”

“I am, and this isn’t helping.
Sit down
.” His father blew out a long, quavering breath. “Noah needs his medicine. Please. It’s already been over twenty-four hours, and we’re worried for him. Without the muscle relaxants, the pills for his migraines, his shots to prevent shifting—”

“You ran from your old alpha and this pack. I can forget that. You had valid reasons. But you also allowed humans to experiment on an injured and defenseless whelp
after
I offered pack healers for his care once I became alpha. Did you think I would ignore the laws you broke?” Wade asked, voice vibrating with cold malice. “Or forgive that?”

“I won’t apologize.” Noah’s father gulped. “Pack healers have no experience with the injuries Noah suffered, and Dr. Phares has been treating Noah since he was four. Humans know what’s best for him.”

“Humans know nothing,” Wade thundered, pounding the conference table with a furious fist.

“They saved his life.”

“And now they are
poisoning
him.”

“Wade,” Fletcher murmured. “The boy.”

That’s all he said. Noah wasn’t even sure if the beta had bothered to learn his name or if he thought of Noah as a person rather than an unpleasant chore. He wasn’t Noah, not here, not in this room. He was just a boy. Some...thing. Whelp? Wasn’t that what Wade had called him? A damaged and defective whelp, as well as a bone to be argued over by posturing shifters.

“He’s bleeding,” Fletcher said.

Wade tensed and then relaxed, his muscles unclenching. “Fine. Go.”

The beta pulled Noah from the chair by his grip on Noah’s arm and marched him back through the door from which he’d come only moments before. Numb, sick, and dizzy, Noah followed until he reached the exterior hall, and the door separating him from his family had firmly shut.

“Come on,” Fletcher said, bending to retrieve the discarded forearm crutch. “Once you’re back upstairs—”

“No,” Noah shouted. “This is wrong and you know it.” Rubbing at the bruises the beta’s fingers would probably leave on his biceps, he glared at Fletcher. “I didn’t do anything except survive the fall. I didn’t defy him or his people. None of us did, not without reason. After the pack failed us, my family did what they had to do to save me. That’s all. We never hurt anybody. I was well within my rights to reject this mating pact. But
I gave in.
To protect them from your damn shifter law. No matter how much it scared me, I paid that bill.”

“This isn’t about punishing them. Or you.” Sighing, Fletcher shook his head. “And it’s
your
damn shifter law, too.”

“I won’t be used as a tool in whatever twisted game he’s playing with my dad. I won’t be his pawn.”

“Noah.” Dark eyes glittering, Wade stared, the shut conference room door at his back.

Heart thudding, pulse roaring in his ears, Noah froze. Shock held him locked in place. He hadn’t realized Wade knew his name since he’d never used it before, and didn’t that speak eloquently of how fucked up this situation...this mating...was?

Wade didn’t mince words. Why should he? He simply stalked to Noah, towering a foot and more above him, so damn sexy Noah’s mouth watered. He was scary as fuck. And mesmerizing. The alpha lifted one hand, fingers threading through Noah’s closely cropped hair. Wade frowned at the length that marked him as different as much as the dark red shade, but he managed to anchor his grip, yanking Noah’s head to the side to expose his throat.

And Wade’s bite.

“Your family is leaving,” Wade said. “Without a scratch and with full amnesty, as we agreed.”

Noah shouted when Wade darted down, the alpha’s sharp teeth slicing into the vulnerable skin of Noah’s neck. Pain flared hot, but along with it, the instinctive arousal Noah was as helpless to deny as Wade was. Bastard. Noah’s hands rose, snatching at the shifter’s arms for support as Wade ravenously tasted Noah, blood trickling in a wet line from Noah’s throat to his sternum when Wade couldn’t swallow fast enough. Still, it worked. The bite was Wade’s vow. He’d refreshed his mark and renewed his pledge.

He wouldn’t give Noah up.

He wouldn’t harm Noah’s family, either.

He lifted his head and licked Noah’s blood from his lips. Smears of it wetting Wade’s chin shouldn’t turn Noah on, but Noah’s dick hardened, anyway. Chest heaving, senses spinning at the sting of the fresh bite, Noah scowled when the alpha arched a cool eyebrow. Wade’s glance drifted to his own shoulder in taunting invitation.

Furious, horny, and confused, Noah turned his gaze away.

Wade laughed and released him, holding on long enough to steady Noah when, off balance, Noah stumbled. “Take him upstairs.”

Clinging to the tattered remnants of his pride, Noah sneered. “I thought I wasn’t a prisoner.”

“You aren’t.” Fletcher shoved the forearm crutches at him. “It’s too dangerous for you to be near other shifters. Too many would be hurt.”

“Try again.” Noah curled his fingers around the grips of his crutches. “I’m not as weak as you think, but I’m no match for other shifters. They’d eat me alive.”

“You wouldn’t hurt them. It isn’t in you. Even when your wolf fully recovers, you wouldn’t hurt them.” Pivoting at the other end of the corridor, Wade walked backwards while he flashed a malicious smile. “But
I
would.”

* * *

The lesson was harsh, but one Noah had learned young: stubborn pride would only carry him so far and usually to his great detriment. In this instance, it took him to the second floor landing. Noah’s family had adapted the farmhouse from the time Noah was in his wheelchair. Everything Noah had needed was on the first floor. These stairs were killing him. Muscles shaking with exhaustion, he paused to wipe sweat from his face. Fletcher had evidently had his fill of this torture, too. The beta bent at the waist and tossed Noah over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. He dumped Noah onto the freshly-made bed in Wade’s suite moments later. Pain stabbed into Noah, building behind his eyeballs at the bright sunlight. The ache joined the symphony of misery in his bad leg and both hips. He rubbed his temples. “I need my pills.”

“You’ll feel better once you’ve eaten,” the beta said.

Noah glared. “I’ll feel better after resuming my meds and my physical therapy.” He rapped his knuckles against the rigid plastic of his brace. “Shifting won’t cure this.”

The beta’s chin lifted. “Neither will poisoning your wolf.”

By the time Fletcher returned with another plate heaped with meat, the pain in Noah’s skull had intensified, the migraine coming on quickly. He’d unstrapped the brace to try to massage his bunched muscles, too aware he’d soon pay for the exacting trip up and down the stairs. The pulsing in his skull escalated, unabated. Fletcher settled the plate next to him. “Eat and you’ll have the energy to shift again. Your wolf will relieve any cramps or strains.”

Stomach roiling at the smell, though the kitchen had cooked the beef this time, Noah shook his throbbing head. “I can’t.”

Fletcher crossed his arms over his chest. “You can’t only because you starve your wolf.”

“My head—”

“—will be healed by the wolf as well.”

Fury and pain twisted inside him. “I can’t eat because I’ll throw up,” he said in a tight snarl that was making his agony worse. Nausea churned his stomach. “Not the aconitum shots. If he wants me to shift, fine. I’ll shift, but I need my muscle relaxants and Imitrex for the migraine.”