Page 29 of Dawn of the Pack

My eyes dart to Roxanne, who clears her throat. “By Montrose tradition, wolves hold contests to determine their place in the pack. It’s not similar to the fights you’ve had in the past,” she adds, implication clear: he’s unable to claim my position as alpha even if he wins.

And he will lose spectacularly.

“Fine,” I agree. “We’ll have your little showdown in front of my pack at midnight.”

Chapter Twelve

Derrek

“Again.”

An icy water spray, strong enough to feel like a sandblast, hits my face and naked torso. I cringe against the furthest corner of the cage, willing it to stop before it removes more skin. Nielsen holds the leash from the outside of the cage, keeping me from turning away and protecting my face.

Just when my lungs feel as though they’ll burst and I’ll be forced to inhale water, the spray stops.

“Come on, son, all you have to do is shift and this’ll be over.” He’s still doing the ‘patient dad’ voice, but I can tell the hours spent with nothing to show are wearing on him.

I’m all out of patience. I march right up to the metal loops separating us and slam my wet palms against them, snarling. Immediately, magical bolts of pure electricity shoot down my throat, reminding me I can’t use my voice at all. I’ve gotten somewhat used to it—it took a while to resist the urge to scream every time they hit me with something—but it still drops me to my knees, gagging.

“I’m sorry this is so hard on you, Leaf.”

I draw in careful breaths, my hands shaking with fury, and glare up at him with all the hate I can muster.

Nielsen crouches down to my eye level. “I know you don’t believe me, but you’ll see, it’s worth it in the end. The more repressed your wolf is, the harder it is to draw him out. For people who don’t have the instinct to shift, it takes an extremely strong emotion to bring it about. It’s not about the pain; it’s about how angry it makes you, how frustrated, how humiliated to be locked in a cage and treated like a dog. We have to keep pushing until you reach your breaking point before your wolf will finally be free. And then you’ll thank me, son. This is just part of the process.”

Unable to vocalize what I think of that statement, I respond with a hand gesture that tells him exactly how I feel.

Nielsen tosses his head back and laughs. “Well, no one can deny that you’ve got spirit.” Standing, he turns to the man beside him holding the hose and sprayer. “Again.”

After another hour of the water, Nielsen concedes defeat and decides it’s time to escalate my torture. I’m still soaking wet, shaking so hard with cold that my teeth are audibly chattering. I watch warily as the latest henchman coils the hose and tucks it away in the bottom of the case. It’s a vain hope, but for a brief moment I allow myself to think we might be done for tonight, and he’s going to offer me a towel and a meal with the promise to start again tomorrow.

Instead, the man pulls two items from the rack: one that looks sort of like a bowie knife strapped to a pole, and the cattle prod.

My stomach lurches.

He flicks a switch, and a bolt of blue electricity connects the two prongs, sizzling.

Nielsen accepts the cattle prod and the other man hefts the knife pole as if testing its weight.

“See, this here is a special invention of mine. We took a regular cattle prod—which hurts, don’t get me wrong—but we souped it up a bit, so it’s a fitting instrument for a wolf shifter. We heal so fast, you understand. A regular cattle prod is more of an annoyance than a motivator to a powerful wolf.”

My eyes dart to the weapon the other man holds, then back, my question clear. “Ah, yes, that’s exactly what it looks like. We find having two types of motivation at the same time to be far more effective than just one. You don’t get used to the sensation as fast.”

When they approach the cage, I scrabble back to my corner, but I know it’s no use. Not only does Nielsen have the leash that can lay me out with the slightest tug, but the weapons are clearly designed to hit everywhere in the cage; there’s no escape.

I wish fervently for my wolf to emerge and end this. If all he wants is for me to shift, I’d happily do it. No torture required. Unfortunately, the hairy beast hasn’t shown a flick of interest in helping me out of this scenario.

If I even have one at all.

“Hey Jessup?”

“Yes alpha?”

“Let’s make sure and make a note of the time. I’d like to know how long it takes a half-breed to heal compared to a full-blooded wolf.”

“You got it, sir.”

“You ready to get started, Leaf?”

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