Page 41 of Howling
The rough, growly tone of his voice is deadly soft, anger replacing any curiosity. If the gleam in his eyes is any indication, he would happily toss me from the moving vehicle if given the opportunity.
Not that I would fault him.
I basically blew up their lives. The least he deserves is some honesty—enough to appease him, but not enough to put him in danger. Telling them the truth is a gamble, a risk not only to my safety but theirs as well. Past experiences scream at me to remain quiet, a lesson I’ve learned over and over again. The truth will only lead to disaster. Still, my wolf whines in my head, like a brush of fur against my mind, urging me to trust them.
It’s been so long since I had faith in anyone that the impulse is repugnant.
Trusting the wrong person will lead me to my downfall.
The more the men know, the more dangerous it will be for them…and me.
Much to my frustration, her demands grow more and more insistent, and I reluctantly relent. Gramps said our wolves often sense things that we don’t, that his beast saved his life more than once. Unfortunately, I don’t have the same experience. I’ve spent most of my life on two feet instead of four.
The shifters who attacked us continue to follow from a distance, running full-out to keep up with the car. I push the vehicle faster, watching the mirrors as the beasts gradually fall back and fade into the distance. I don’t make the mistake of thinking that means they will give up.
Now that they’ve seen what I can do, they won’t stop until they get their hands on me…just like every other person in my life.
Once the wolves are out of sight, I blow out a harsh breath, then twist my head from side to side until my neck cracks. I remain focused on the road to avoid the too intense gazes of the men in the back seat. I debate my options, but once again, they’re limited.
I have two choices—pull over and order them out of the vehicle, leaving them to their fate, or accept responsibility and warn them of the danger that will come.
Fuck!
I tighten my hands on the steering wheel. The metal groans in protest, bending slightly, and I immediately ease my grip. The last thing I need is for the wheel to snap and the vehicle to careen off into the ditch. Most of us would probably survive, but I can’t take the chance that the wolves would catch up with us while we’re injured.
I inhale deeply, gathering my courage. The moon disappears behind the clouds, an omen, and I stare into the darkness with a sense of hopelessness that has my shoulders slumping in defeat. “Wolves have different designations—alpha, beta, omega.”
“Omegas are virtually nonexistent,” Garth says, a furrow between his brows. “Many believe that they’re fairy tales.”
“Are you saying you are an omega?” Tyler asks softly, concern darkening his green eyes. Beneath his worry, the hint of awe is impossible to miss.
I snort at the absurdity, and Garth rolls his eyes, answering for me. “While an omega can exert some influence over an alpha if they were mated, she wouldn’t be able to manipulate a whole pack that way. Isn’t that right?”
He never once takes his eyes off me as he speaks. Something about his intensity has my stomach fluttering. The sensible part of me says it’s because he’s a threat, but something deeper whispers it’s a lot more complicated.
Some of my reactions could be explained away by attraction, but I fear it’s more than that. Attraction can be pushed aside and ignored. Whatever is between the two of us is like an itch under my skin that I can’t reach. I worry the longer we remain in close proximity to each other, the worse it will get.
Late at night, when he’s had too many drinks, Gramps would often recount how he met his mate, Marion. The longing and sadness in his tone as he recounted the heartbreaking tale has my throat aching. The attraction was instantaneous for both of them. Unfortunately, being fated mates doesn’t automatically mean happiness.
In Kyperian, the council would often select mates based on their strength and political advantages. Money also moved you up the list. It took years for Gramps and his fellow pack members to climb the ranks. They kept quiet about being fated, knowing it would only put them on the council’s radar. If the truth got out, the chances of having an “accident” while working would increase.
Can’t have shifters thinking they have any say in the breeding selection.
It would cause a revolt and shift the delicate balance of power in Kyperian.
They would rather exterminate all shifters than allow that to happen.
Shaking off my foolish thoughts, I concentrate on keeping the car on the road. “No, you’re right—I’m not an omega.”
My life would be so much easier if that were the case.
“Before I tell you anything, you have a choice to make. Knowledge is dangerous. The more you know about me, the more it will put you at risk.” I avoid the main highways, forking through the country roads, vaguely recalling the map I glanced at when I filled the car with gas.
It’s imperative that I put as much space between me and the incident as possible. Unfortunately, I don’t have the luxury of time. Every second could be the difference between life and death with the Orion on my trail.
I need to find a way to ditch the guys.
As much as it pains me, they are a distraction I can’t afford.
