Page 68 of Dawn of the Pack

My heart leaps to my throat and stays there. I scribble out another note.

“No, they all got away. You know, she seems nice, the Harridan girl. Nicer than our alpha, at any rate. I can see why you like her.”

I breathe a sigh of relief, scribbling, and she glances at my latest note. “No, we didn’t exactly meet, per se. I tracked her down, and we tussled a bit, as wolves. She tried to talk to me first, that’s all. But they came and got her and that was it. There was no way I could keep up with a car, you know?

“But anyway, I’m a prisoner here, just like you, and this was both of our tickets out. Since I’ve failed, I don’t know how he’ll punish me. Nothing I can’t take I suppose.

“But you… I’m sorry to say your punishment is gonna be worse. I wasn’t lying about that, either.”

I raise an eyebrow at her, and she gets the hint. “It’s not more of the same, I’m afraid. If he can’t get you to shift and claim a mate, he plans to kill you. He can’t have a son that can’t shift, and he won’t let anyone leave this dungeon without a mate. Period.

“But before he does that, he’s going to kill the Harridan girl, just to see if that triggers it. He figures if that’s not enough to send you over the edge, nothing else will.”

Chapter Thirty

Lilliana

It’s hopeless.

I hug my knees to my chest, squeezing tighter, and stare blankly at the crackling fire.

We tried every trick up our sleeves to get Derrek. We had it all planned out, and then it just… failed. Spectacularly.

Now there’s no way we’ll sneak in again. Even Billy said it. We gave away all our tricks in that one shot. Billy’s still in place, but that doesn’t help much; he’s not the ‘start a revolution’ type. And if Nielsen can’t make Derrek his heir, he plans to kill him.

A tiny voice whispers at the back of my mind, and I don’t want to hear it. It’s the weakest part of me, the one that likes to dwell on hurts and slights, the one that sometimes has truths to tell that I don’t want to believe.

It says I can relate to my mom now more than ever. It’s a horrid thought; ever since I found out what she did, understood the destruction she left in her wake and the devastation to her fated mates, how it destroyed them… I swore not to be like her.

Granted, she knew what was happening ahead of time and I never stood a chance, but still—she chose to leave. And that little voice reminds me I enjoyed hating her for it. I enjoyed resenting that she kept all of this hidden from me, deprived me of my inheritance, the life I ought to have had here in Harridan House. It was deeply satisfying to blame her for being selfish and shirking her responsibilities, and sticking all of us in a never-ending battle to survive.

But now, sitting here with three of my fated mates nearby and the genuine possibility that my fourth is lost to me forever…

I really relate to her more than I ever imagined I could.

This pain, this horrendous, festering ache that never goes away or dulls, but keeps growing and pressuring me to fix what’s broken?—

I don’t know how she lived with it.

And she only stayed with one of her mates; so two of the three were lost to her forever.

And—oh my god, she never even got to claim the one she kept!

How could she? She left before she manifested.

My heart lurches—knowing what I know now, how much my wolf is a part of me I never knew was missing, and my mates the same—I can’t imagine how she got through each day without it. But she did; she had me, she worked, together with my dad she kept a roof over my head; and I grew up safe, mostly. We weren’t remotely wealthy, but I always had what I needed. I was happy.

But I realize now that even though she acted happy, she must have been miserable.

And that I can understand, too.

Tucking my face down behind my knees, I try to block out the world. Connecting with the guys helped suppress the pain, but it’s like a bandaid on a missing limb. It stops the blood flow for a time, but there’s too much bleeding to staunch. It oozes out and runs out the side, spreading the stain wider and wider. And you get used to the bleeding, but the fact remains that your limb is still gone.

The rescue attempt pulled that wound wide open again—I was expecting to get my limb back. What would a little more blood hurt? Only I didn’t get Derrek, and I returned even more wounded than when I left.

And now I just don’t see how that’s going to change.

Sitting in my self-made darkness, I listen to the fire crackle and pop. It’s comforting, and it’s a relief to be alone and just… not okay for once. I love the guys, but their first instinct is to fix—patch up the wound, make me laugh, find a solution.

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