Page 8 of Fae Divided
Before Sarah could protest again, he returned to wolf form and was gone, running full speed toward the wooded land on the north end of the island.
“James!” she screamed. He didn’t stop. He didn’t turn back.
Chapter 4
James leaned hiships against the dirty brick wall. The alley behind the Mississippi bar smelled of stale booze, fried food, and old vomit. Taking a pull from his cigarette, he exhaled and then dragged the expelled smoke into his nose and lungs, replacing one foul scent with another. The acrid fragrance of the cigarette would serve to mask the pungent odor of anxiety he couldn’t entirely suppress; his worry for Sarah an uncontrollable, living, breathing entity.
“You don’t smell like an outcast.” The dark-haired shifter accused him.
“Neither do you,” James said, tapping the shortened butt against his thigh, and shaking loose the ashes. The lone male who’d made contact within days of his arrival in the small college town was bound to an Alpha. James couldn’t put a pack’s name to his scent, but it was eerily familiar.
“That’s not your concern yet. And I haven’t decided if it ever will be.” The fake outcast knocked the cigarette from James’ lax hold and pushed him against the wall with a hand to his chest. James didn’t resist. “Why hasn’t Príoh Walker broken your bond?”
James raised his chin, keeping his wolf nature restrained. He met the rebel’s glowing eyes with a steady brown gaze free from even a hint of yellow. There was no question whose wolf was more dominant—who would win in one on one combat. The show of aggression by the lesser male was a test. “As I’m sure you know, I’m Samuel Walker’s brother-in-law. He believes I’ll eventually return to my senses and come home if he doesn’t force my hand.”
“But you won’t?”
“No. Not while Queen Rose ignores the oppression of our people, and Clan Walker supports her inaction.”
“The príoh would lose his sister if you’re forced to find another Clan,” he said as the pressure on James’ sternum lessened. “Or watch her die if you turn feral without an Alpha’s bond.”
Throat tight, James nodded, not trusting his voice to remain as firm as it needed to be when discussing the recent separation from his Ca’anam. He’d have to get better at handling the instinctive emotional response without the aid of silence and filtered smoke.
The shifter stepped away. “I’m Cameron Nelson.”
“And you already know my name.” He retrieved the pack of Marlboros from his pocket and quickly lit one. He took a few puffs, wanting nothing more than to crush the vile cigarette beneath his heel and rinse the nasty taste from his mouth. Sarah would hate the reek of tobacco embedded in his skin. “But I won’t allow my mate to suffer indefinitely or kill needlessly. If your new Alpha cannot accept that, then we have nothing to talk about. My aid is conditional.” No matter what the prince ordered, he wouldn’t risk the death of his mate or harm innocents.
“That’s his call, not mine.” Cameron stared at James, sizing him up, judging his motives—and confirming the existence of a maverick Ferwyn leader. “How can we trust you when you’re still connected to the region’s príoh?”
“I can suppress the bond enough that he can’t trace my location or compel me to return to the pack as long as I keep my distance.”
“The tie with Clan Walker has to be completely broken to ensure your loyalty to our cause.”
“And that’s notmycall.” Only an Alpha could sever the magical pack link formed by a blood vow.
“Unfortunate. We could use an experienced warrior and former member of the Guard in the upcoming conflict.”
Vampires, shifters, and witches had lived alongside the Untouched, or nonmagical population, for centuries. Though there would always be prejudice on both sides, there hadn’t been a species war in over two hundred years. And never one on American soil.
Cameron claimed with all seriousness that their end goal was for the Fae Touched to take their rightful place in the world. A place above humans.
So, what were these shifters and witches doing cooperating with the Knights of Humanity, an organization that whole-heartedly believed in human supremacy? And more importantly, how did they plan to defeat the giant of the US military when their objectives ultimately led to war?
All questions Prince Myles needed answered.
James shrugged. “It is what it is. I can’t force Samuel to break our bond. Leaving my Ca’anam should be proof of my commitment.” He swallowed hard, crushing the scent of guilt he felt for abandoning Sarah; something every Ferwyn male knew no truemate would ever do without a damn good reason. Even without the official Clan split, the separation alone should be enough to vouch for his sincerity.
Cameron shifted his weight, his gaze drifting toward the opening of the alleyway before returning to James. The street virtually empty in the hours between lunch and dinner.
“Decide, outcast. Take me to the male playing at Alpha, or stop wasting my time,” James demanded without inflection, pretending he didn’t care one way or the other what the shifter decided. Maybe he didn’t. If rejected, he could return to Sarah and end this charade. The prince could find someone else to do his dirty work.
He didn’t flinch when Cameron reached behind him, pulled a Glock from the waistband of his jeans, and pointed it at James’ head. Another test.
Taking a last drag from his cigarette, James flicked the remains aside and struck out lightning-fast. He grabbed the barrel of the gun with his left hand, forcing the muzzle away from his face and following through with a hard punch with his right to Cameron’s jaw, disarming him as he fell. The startled Ferwyn landed on his ass in a pile of garbage, the pistol now aimed at his heart.
“I’ll take that as a no.”
Cameron growled, his canines lengthening beyond his chin. He jumped to his feet; claws fully extended. “Son of a—”
