Page 30 of Raven

My panther wanted to roar at that, and I knew he felt it because I felt the control clamp down on me like an iron fist in the gut. It winded me, left me panting. "I don't know. You're right, she might not be. But I don't know if you've noticed, but there aren't a whole lot of panthers in this area." My words were thick, heavy with the growl just under the surface of them. I wasn't keeping control of my cat, and he knew that. I was young, and that was part of the problem, but getting in the way of a shifter and their mate, or their cubs, or all the other things our animals deemed important, was like playing with fire. It was only because this was Malcolm that my cat bowed and did not fight. "If I am to be mated by the time I am thirty, as per your rules, then I have to take every chance I get, right?"

It wasn't Malcolm's law, at least I didn't think it was. Part of the Society wasn't just to protect all that were in it but to maintain it. Humans wanted us all dead. Their idea was that the fewer we bred, the better, because maybe then we'd die out. But the Society fought for us to continue. We mated, but it was only when agreed upon by the leaders. Viable mates had to have the potential to procreate. An infertile society member was useless.

"When your mother came to me, we discussed your future. It's not just your scores that she's worried about, it's you in general. She asked me to procure you a spot on the Sentinel team. Recruit level."

My veins went cold. I swallowed against the constriction in my throat and met Malcolm's gaze head-on. His eyes had lost that half-breed cast, but they were still bright. I could see the tiger roaming behind them. "She knows about Tia?" Because that would be the only reason my mother would want to sign me up for Society's army. As a sentinel, I'd be sent out, commissioned to places. Malcolm's team of elites.

"No, but she isn't a stupid woman. She's worried."

"She's worried she'll lose control, you mean." I didn't take the bite out of my words. I meant every last one of them.

"I have a spot for you. I can sponsor you with that. The laws allow it. It'll mean you get your first year's salary up front."

I ground my jaw. Said nothing as he talked. Because that was why some joined. It was how they got into Society. They could join the ranks, usually at lower levels, prove their allegiance, and also get their salary for the year, which paid their Society fees.

"You get just over thirteen thousand in your training year. Your fine is ten."

I gripped the bar and didn't give one shit about the pain in my wrist by then. In all honesty, it was just a pain I was used to. It seared up my arms, my veins, and into my shoulders. Everything just felt stiff. "That's convenient."

"It is what it is. You don't have to take it. You've got three weeks to pay off this debt, and then you know how it works."

Yes. I did. I'd be out of Society. So would my mother. Shamed and removed. We weren't important enough to be hunted—it isn't like we were royalty, but still ... the world out there was a cold, hard place, and not many survived. We'd not even be able to go to the underground, not this one at least. I'm sure there were many others, but we'd not be welcome. This wasn't Malcolm's rule, though. This was the laws that had been set down long before he took that seat.

Malcolm took the key out of his pocket. The one Earl had had, and he slipped it into the lock. I pushed the gate open. He didn't need to ask me to hold out my hands. I just did, and he unlocked the cuffs. He gave me the key for me to do my ankles. The alpha bows to no one, in no circumstances. He unclipped the collar. "We have twenty minutes left to get out of the centre and back home. I will drive you myself. You are not to go to that cafe. You are not to go there to find Tia, do you understand me?"

"They left her there," and he'd read my mind and knew exactly where I'd be heading.

"She won't be there now. Only trouble, and you have enough of that. You go home and you stay there. Tomorrow, you go to your classes." I took a step out of the cell, every nerve in my body feeling on fire, my panther pushing at me, but Malcolm didn't move. "That spot will be open for you until your birthday. Don't be a fool and avoid this debt. If you can’t clear it, you come to me and join my ranks."

"But that'll mean leaving every single thing in my life. Everything ..."

"Yes. And sometimes the prices we pay for things are higher than we ever imagined. Sometimes, it’s the only way we can survive."

THIRTEEN

Malcolm drove me home. The mid-afternoon sun blazed down, the sky a clear, mocking blue. But inside, my head was a mess of fury and desperation. I needed to check on Tia. Just once. Just to see if she was okay. I tried to argue with him, to persuade him that I needed to know she was safe. That was all. Just to know she was okay, and then I’d do whatever he wanted me to. I didn’t even have to see her or speak to her. He could check. If she was safe, then I could breathe.

Instead, we pulled up to the block where I lived with my mother. She was outside on the balcony—my mother, not Tia—scanning the street below. We never used that balcony. She didn’t like to, said people could watch and see us from there. My mother practically wrote the book on paranoia, or at least that was the conclusion my teenage brain had drawn.

As far back as I could remember, nothing had ever threatened us. No fights, no ominous strangers, no one shouting up where we lived and trying to snatch her or me. It never made any sense, and she never gave me a reason. Whenever I tried to ask, she dismissed me or gave vague answers that meant nothing. Or, most commonly, she got angry. I knew my mother's parents had died when she was young. Maybe that was why shewas so overprotective. When you lose someone at a young age, it’s hard, but to be orphaned? Maybe. My teenage brain didn’t understand her fears. All I saw was control and oppression. Why couldn’t I go out like others did? Even Stephen went out freely, and he was the heir to the goddamn Society throne. If anyone was at risk, it was him.

When Malcolm pulled the car to a stop, she stared right at me, fury igniting my veins. I didn’t care about the debt the humans had saddled me with right then. I didn’t care how I was going to tell my mother about it. My head was with Tia and those humans. My mother was just another barrier to getting to her.

I debated just sitting there and refusing to move. I could. Maybe.

Malcolm unfastened his seatbelt, prompting me to ask, "You're coming in with me?" He wouldn’t normally. Although I’d never really been brought home by him before; I just assumed he wouldn’t.

His tone was flat and calm. Typical Malcolm. "Yes."

"Why?" I frowned. "You can just drop me here. I can go in by my—" I paused. "You think I’m going to run off or something?" I shook my head, trying not to let my emotions rise. It was right on the edge of my tongue, right there so much I could taste it—the need to quip at him, to tell him he was being just as bad as my mother. I didn’t, of course. He was alpha.

"Because your mother has seen me, and she'll want to know why I'm dropping you off and where you've been. Would you rather tell her yourself?"

I studied him for a moment and considered my answer, because it wouldn’t actually matter what I said to my mother. She'd never believe me. I could even video the whole thing and show her, and she'd find a way to tell me it was my fault. "It won’t make a difference if you're there or not," I said finally. I undid my seatbelt and glanced at my mother again. Even fromwhere I was, I could see the disapproval in her expression. I knew that judgement like the back of my hand. "Maybe one day my mother will actually like me."

I went to open my door, but Malcolm grabbed my arm and stopped me. "I know you think this is all hard and unfair, and all those other phrases my own son likes to use. I was your age once. I know how it is. But I feel I need to tell you again. Do not go looking for that girl. You go to work, then you go to classes, and then home."

Breathing a little too heavily, I fixed him with a glare. I felt my panther bristle, then felt his tiger brush against it.

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