Page 57 of Pack Rage
She arched her eyebrows. “Oh? Where had you pictured this moment?”
I stood, pulling on my clothes reluctantly. “Perhaps I’d planned to make a bed for you, for us.”
“A bed?”
“Yes,” I said, not bothering to hide the truth of it. “I’d hoped to make a strong, sturdy bed from the bones of everyone who hunted you. Everyone who hurt you.”
Her laughter filled the room as she rose, unfolding her perfect, lithe limbs. By the moon, she was distracting. “Grigor, tell the truth. Did you keep all the bones from the toadfuckers who hunted me?” When I didn’t answer, she went on, muttering to herself, “I saw lots of guts. A few fingers, but not many bones.”
“I may have collected some of them,” I replied, trying not to reveal the location of the cache in my thoughts. I wasn’t sure if the idea of a bed made from the worthless males’ bones disgusted her or appealed. Even if I didn’t make a bed, they could come in handy as benches, or chairs. A suitable throne for my littlebehrserkerqueen.
“You could make something with them,” she agreed, tapping me on the nose before she covered her perfect body with clothing again. Then she grabbed a package of peanut butter crackers and headed to the door. “Maybe Brand would join in. He’s a carver, you know. It could be a bonding thing.”
I would never have imagined I would be fighting laughter as I left my soulmate in a prison to sneak away. But I never would have imagined being so… It was such an unfamiliar emotion, I had to search for the word.
Happy.That’s how I felt as I followed Flor and bid goodbye to her mother and the still-wary Hilliers, shaking hands with Finnick and exchanging nods with Brand. When I cast a quick look-away spell and walked right past the Enforcers at the secret entrance to the lower levels Finnick had shared with me, I was more than content. I was hopeful and happy as I left the lower levels to find the witch, ready to end her before she could do any more damage to one of my own. The emotion itself was a distraction.
A dangerous one.
Chapter 27
True Mates, True Monsters
FLOR
For the first few hours after he left, Grigor’s happiness bubbled up inside my own chest, like a soda can that had been shaken up, and might explode at any moment. His joy at being mated to me was contagious, though his emotions tasted like rage, too. He was going off to kill the wicked witch, after all. I thought he might have found her, but when he caught me checking in on him, he sort of turned down the volume of the connection. Probably needed to focus.
I worried for him, but knew he was strong enough, now that we were mated. And he believed in me, as well as Brand and the others. He knew we could win our fight as well. Even with all the bad surrounding us, somehow it felt like good stood a chance.
I sat beside Mama on the bed as she rested, trying to ignore the funk that rose from the sheets. It was my father’s awful scent, but it seemed to soothe her.I kind of understood it now; I couldn’t get enough of my mates’ scents. I sniffed subtly at my arm, taking in a little of the cold, clean scent of Grigor.
Maybe I wasn’t all that subtle. “I did that for years after I mated Bradley,” Margarette murmured from the chair,exhausted but amused. Bradley had gone with Brand and Finn to guard the doors at the same time Grigor had left to hunt down Elina, so it was just the three of us left in the room. “I couldn’t get enough of his scent. I still can’t. I just hide it a little better.”
“Ah, sorry,” I said, but she shook her head.
“Never apologize. I’m the one who needs to do that, for so much. I got stuck in my way of thinking about rank and rules—you showed me that. I never thought I could be just as wrong about mates. I spent so much of my life learning about them, studying them to see if I could help strengthen our pack. But seeing you with Brand and Finnick, and even that Grigor…” She shivered a little. “You’re changing everything. You’re special.”
Was I? She might believe that, but I didn’t. “I don’t think so. I think the world just got bad enough that it had to change. If I hadn’t been here, the moon would’ve found some other way to force the shifters here to stop their bullshit.” I could tell she wasn’t convinced. “How many weapons are in this room right now, Margarette?”
“Your mother’s sword,” she said instantly. “And our wolves are weapons, of course.” I waited, and she looked around. “I suppose you could use the silverware on the table. You taught the women at Northern that. And at Southern, from what your mama told me.”
Del would have had a field day teaching Margarette. I grinned. “There are at least fifty things in this room I could use as a weapon.” I pointed to a crumpled peanut butter cracker wrapper. “Even that could be a way to disguise traces of scent.” I nodded to a few other things I could see—the chair legs that could be taken off and used as clubs, the sheets that could be used to strangle or bind limbs, or even made into a slingshot in a pinch. Glass bottles that could be broken and swung as clubs, beer cans that could be ripped and reshaped into knives or throwing stars. “But the most important weapons, you can’t see.Endurance for running. A mind that sees clearly, that can stand up to pain and pressure. Training.”
“I miss training.” She stood and stretched, her movements stiff.
“Me, too.” I slid off the bed, moving over to a cleared section of the floor. I sank into the firsttae kwan do poomsaeDel had taught me when I was young, and Margarette followed my lead. Both of us whispered ourkihapssoftly, so Mama wouldn’t wake up, and moved on through the familiar stances.
After a half hour, we were both warm. “Wish we could spar,” Margarette panted, taking a drink from a glass of water. I didn’t want to say what I was thinking: that she needed rest and food more than exercise. That we would be fighting for our lives soon, and she needed to conserve her energy. She knew all that.
“Let’s spar after we get out of here. Or fight as wolves, even. I shifted, you know.”
“I heard. I can’t wait to meet your wolf.” She smiled, then tilted her head. “Why did you ask me about weapons?”
“Because I need you to understand something. I’m not the reason things are changing. I’m not special. I’m just the weapon that came to hand, when the Moon Goddess finally got pissed enough to step in.” I held up the peanut butter wrapper. “Maybe She needed one that would be overlooked, counted out. One that no one would be afraid to let in their guard.”
“Flor, you have five true mates. I think that makes you pretty special.”
I shrugged. “You know, I never thought I’d take even one. Mama made me promise not to, for obvious reasons.”
