Page 66 of Resurgence of the Pack

‘Yes, but it’s more complex than that.’ He paused, visibly struggling with telling this part of the story. That’s how I knew I needed to hear it: I’d poked Torrance’s old wounds, so now I might as well rip the scab right off.

‘Tell me.’

Torrance grimaced and blew out a long breath. ‘Lang was mad that I left. He began courting a lady friend of mine, as a “screw you” to me.’ His nose pinched, his jaw clenched and when he spoke it was through gritted teeth. ‘He took her honour and then refused to take her hand. Shewasn’t a wolf, you see. She was good enough to bed but not to wed.’

I reached out and touched his hand. ‘I’m sorry. That’s horrible.’ Not just for Torrance but for the poor girl too. I’d already seen first-hand from the maid that perceived loose morals weren’t acceptable.

‘It was.’ He licked his lips and stared out of the window so that we wouldn’t see his tears, but the thickness of his voice gave them away. ‘She took her own life when she realised she was with child,’ he said tightly. ‘His child.’

‘Oh shit. I’m so sorry.’ I really was, though saying sorry really didn’t cut the mustard. Still, my sympathy was all I had to offer. ‘You can stay here when we go to the Staffordshire pack, if you want. You don’t have to carry on working with him.’

Torrance looked affronted. ‘You are an Alessandro. I will guard you until my final breath.’ He shot me a distinctly wobbly grin. ‘Though if I could also kill Langston, I’d be grateful.’

‘Understandable,’ Greg said. ‘I’d do the same. What a prick.’

Torrance looked moodily out of the window, no doubt thinking of his lost lady love. The carriage fell silent as we swayed on our way. I wondered if we would have the same fate as Torrance’s lady when we reached theStaffordshire pack: fucked and dead. I couldn’t help but feel like we were either riding to our salvation or to our doom. There was no middle ground for us today; it was do or die.

And I’d kill to keep that orb where it should be – with the wolves.

Chapter 33

Can you keep my clothes?I asked Terrance quickly.

Of course,the spirit residing in my crown assured me.

Esme and I let the shift roll over us. Langston frowned. ‘You’ll have lost your clothes,’ he muttered. ‘Silly girl.’

Ha! Showed how much he knew. I’d relish his shock later when I shifted back fully dressed. If I hadn’t been on a mission I’d have done it right then, but I wanted Langston focused, not wool-gathering about how the heck I’d retrieved my outfit, so I resisted temptation.

Langston and Greg both stripped before shifting and left their clothes neatly folded next to the carriage and tethered horses. I kept my eyes away from Greg; now wasn’t the time to get distracted.

‘I guess I’m jogging,’ Torrance said drily, looking at the three wolves next to him. ‘Lead the way.’

We turned and plunged into the woods. Staffordshire pack’s lands were sizable but the woods around the seatof power weren’t vast. We padded through them carefully, mindful of our two-footed companion and the pack of wolves that might be lurking not far from us.

As we slunk closer to Nina, I almost gasped. She looked well, not like the tattered state I’d found her in some two centuries later.

We watched her for a moment. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected but I couldn’t see a thief; there wasn’t anyone dressed in black and sneaking around with a bag marked SWAG. Finally we hunkered down to wait and observe; the last thing we wanted was to draw attention to Nina right now.

We sat there for more than an hour, Torrance in an uncomfortable crouch, until suddenly we heard yips of alarm and howls of aggression on the wind. The Staffordshire pack were on high alert and, judging by the increasing volume of their cries, they were heading our way. Uh-oh, that wasn’t what we needed. Shit was about to go down.

As we tensed for the wolves thundering towards us, a man burst out of the seat of power. God damn it! I hadn’t seen anyone go in – had he been in there since before we’d arrived?

The thief was small and skinny with narrow eyes and a prominent aquiline nose. He had a bag on his shoulder.He was trying to pull it off with one hand but it had caught on his head and he was getting flustered as he pulled at it. All the while his other hand was stubbornly clutching the glowing orb; presumably he was planning to shove it into the bag once he got it open. His fear of the approaching werewolves was making him clumsy: he was a clumsy, scaredy thief, my favourite type.

Greg shifted to human to speak to us. ‘That’s a go bag!’ he said urgently.

I shifted too. ‘What’s that? Like a bug-out bag?’ I asked.

‘No. If he puts the orb in it, it’ll be transported to a linked bag that could potentially be hundreds of miles away. Don’t let him put it in the bag!’

Greg shifted back and we raced towards the fumbling thief. At the same time as we broke through the cover of the trees, the Staffordshire wolves came over the brow of the hill.

Langston braced himself and his golden eyes turned blue. He blew a hard gust of wind at the unprepared wolves that sent them tumbling. It bought us a few seconds, but not much more. Maybe air powers were overrated; then again, maybe Langston wasn’t proficient in using them.

If we had air powers,Esme growled,we would use the air itself to slice our enemies in two.

Well we don’t, so claws will have to do,I shot back.

---