Page 24 of Wulf's Pack
Nora and Skylar arrive behind us. “What is it?” Nora asks.
“Wolves,” I tell her. “Stay behind us.”
A hand moves to my back. The delicate touch makes me shiver and settles my wolf. I can’t tell if Skylar is trying to calm me or seeking comfort herself. “It’s okay,” I murmur. “There are only three of them.”
“Three?” Nora asks. “They could just be here doing some shopping.”
“It’s possible, but I’m not taking any chances.”
There’s a tense moment while we wait for the shifters to come into view. A few shoppers pass us, and I get a visual. There are two women and a man, and none of them are particularly dominant. I’d put them somewhere in the middle of their pack order. They don’t look threatening, but looks can be deceiving. Just because they couldn’t beat me in a fight, doesn’t mean they aren’t armed or something. Their attention focuses on us the moment they spot us. I don’t like it. They aren’t just random mall patrons. They’re seeking us out.
When they get close, I give off a soft warning growl, and they freeze in their tracks. I can smell their fear. It’s not so ripe that they’re terrified, but they’re definitely nervous. The man holds up his hands in surrender. His eyes bounce back and forth between Illren and me, and he gulps. “Please,” he begs. “We’re not a threat.”
He’s right about that. He’s shorter and thin, and everything about his appearance looks weary. The two women aren’t much different. They have this defeated look about them, as if life has kicked them in the teeth. They’re mildly attractive, one blonde, tall and thin, the other shorter with brunette hair and a thicker frame.
“We wish only to speak with the omega,” the man says.
My defenses skyrocket. I adjust my stance, ready to shift if any of them so much as breathes funny, but Skylar steps up to my side, refusing to hide behind me. I hold my arm out, blocking her from moving closer to the strangers. “Careful,” I murmur. “We don’t know them.”
“We mean you no harm,” the brunette says. Her voice shakes, and her eyes are glassy.
A soft wave of pheromones seeps into the air around us, heady and sort of sweet-smelling. It’s a stronger version of Skylar’s natural honeysuckle scent. It’s not nearly as potent asit had been at the FUA office yesterday. It’s not meant to take control, simply to put our beasts at ease. The strangers all take shuddering breaths, and the women grasp hands.
“How can I help you?” Skylar asks softly.
The three shifters all exchange glances. It doesn’t take a mind reader or an empath to see their hope and desperation. The taller of the two women takes a breath and says, “My mate.”
“Our son,” the man adds.
“Two years ago, we were attacked by rogues while visiting the city. They were just trying to rob us, but they had silver bullets.”
I feel for them. Shifters using silver on other shifters is despicable. I really hate rogues. I don’t know where they’re going with this, though. What do they want from my mate?
“My mate and I were both shot,” the soft-spoken woman continues. “I went down right away, and it enraged my mate. He went into a frenzy and fought through the silver poisoning until all of the rogues were dead. The FUA was called. We were both saved from the silver, but my mate…”
Her voice breaks, and I understand. “He went feral.”
It happens sometimes. Silver is deadly to us, but if we’re exposed to it long enough and it’s not enough to kill us, it can drive us to madness. Usually, the fever will pass after the silver is removed from our bodies, but in some cases, it’s not enough to expel the poison. Our wolves take over in an attempt to protect us, but then the madness sets in, and man and beast can separate from one another. I suspect that if this woman’s mate had to fight in wolf form while struggling with the silver madness, his beast took over.
“He’s not feral,” the man says, vigorously shaking his head. “Not completely.”
Feral wolves are shifters whose beasts have taken over. There is no humanity left in them. They’re wild, uncontrollable, and a danger to everyone around them. They’re basically rabid. Mostare put down immediately by their alphas. It’s the only humane thing to do.
“How is a wolf feral but not?” Illren asks. His skepticism matches my own.
“He’s not lost to the madness,” his mother promises. “He’s stuck in his wolf form, but he only becomes dangerous when people come too close to the three of us. He can’t be around other wolves, friend or foe, but he is loyal and loving to us. In his mind, he’s protecting us.”
“He’s like a very aggressive guard dog at this point,” the man says, making us all wince. No shifter likes being compared to our domestic counterparts.
“Our alpha wanted to put him down when it was clear he wouldn’t make the shift back to his human form,” the mom says, with a sniffle. She wipes her eyes. “We couldn’t let him. Our Preston is still in there somewhere. We chose to leave the pack instead.”
I sympathize, but I don’t blame their alpha for wanting to put the wolf down. No shifter would want to live stuck in one form, half out of their mind with silver madness. It’s cruel.
My disapproval must show on my face, because the blonde woman shakes her head, desperately. “He’s happy,” she swears. “As long as I’m near, he feels content. He may be lost to his wolf, but he still recognizes me as his mate. It’s why our alpha let us leave with him.”
“We’ve heard the stories,” the mom says, her attention glued to Skylar. “Omegas can connect with those who’ve lost themselves to their wolves.”
“We will pay,” the man says before Skylar can turn him down. “We don’t have much, but you can have it all. Everything we have. All we ask is for you to try.”
