Kennedy Toledo rounded up the bunch. Toledo’s family had held the Houston pack for three generations, which was odd since most of Lucian’s crowd had overthrown previous Alphas. Not Kennedy. His looks set him apart, too. Werewolves came in all ethnicities. For the most part, the Alphas in the United States appeared Caucasian. However, Toledo’s mother had been Asian, and, if rumors were correct, human.
He had a reputation for being forceful, and the few summers Beaux spent with him before Lucian kicked Beaux out had shown Toledo to be a force to be reckoned with. There had been an incident with another recruit and a large ax….
The scent of anger swept into the room seconds before Cyrus stormed in.
“You drop a bombshell like the one you hurled and then leave me to deal with the consequences. She’s your mate.”
Beaux raised an eyebrow and deliberately didn’t move any other part of his body. It had been shitty for him to behave the way he had. He knew it. Maybe he’d be sorry later but right now? No.
“I thought you might like a nice visit with your sister.”
Alexei laughed stepping forward, and Beaux turned toward him. Out of all the Alphas in the room, only Alexei made him want to look down in submission. He wouldn’t. They were all equals, and this was his turf. Still, Alexei had power pouring out of every cell in his body.
“You wish to take your family drama elsewhere? Not that I’m not enjoying watching the two of you pick at each other. It’s like old times.”
No, it wasn’t. On Lucian’s farm, Cyrus and the others had done everything they could to undermine Beaux every chance they got in order to garner favor with the Alpha Prime. They weren’t children anymore, and, since no one was around to be sucked up to, he wouldn’t allow the same antics to continue. Particularly not in his own territory.
Alexei had been born in Russia and spoke English with an accent. When he’d shown up at Lucian’s farm, no one had known who he was. Now he ran all of Boston and some northern territories as well. He was tall, maybe close to six foot six, with dark hair and dark eyes.
He’d once drowned a rival in the Boston Harbor. His whole pack had watched.
Brutality aside, he was an Alpha, and they needed him. Getting back the missing children had to be the top priority.
Beaux walked to the center of the conference room and stared down at the map he had his pack place on the oak table before they started. It was a map of the United States, and he’d marked with red dots the places where the True Believers had a known location. If they were still active in the area and hadn’t yet been driven out, he also had a pin on the dot. If they were no longer active, the red dot would do.
Unfortunately, they had next to no intel about the True Believers. They could do nothing but rush to keep up whenever the True Believers happened to attack.
“I’m done talking about Lake for the moment. I’d rather focus on this.” He pointed to the table. “I think you can manage, can’t you Cyrus?”
“Yes.” He heard the man speak through gritted teeth and refrained from turning around to look. The other Alphas approached the map. He stayed quiet while he let them digest what they were looking at.
Toledo spoke first. “I think it’s unconscionable every Alpha in the States isn’t here looking at this. The True Believers are the problem of all werewolves.”
“I’d rather focus on who is here than who isn’t.” Beaux said.
Toledo nodded. “I’m surprised there are so many cowards out there.”
Beaux raised his head to look at Kennedy. “You think it’s cowardice? You think they’re afraid?”
“What other reason can you think of?”
“War,” Smith responded. “I know for a fact Georgia and Florida are so deep in pack wars they can’t pull their heads up.”
“I hadn’t realized it had gotten so bad,” Cyrus said. “Why didn’t I know?”
“Because there is no Alpha Prime to tell you or to stop it.” Travis shrugged. “The best any of us can do is protect our own territories and deal with whatever crap comes next.”
“No.” Beaux slammed his fist down. “The best we can do is find the missing children.”
Alexei nodded, a glint in his eyes. “Well put, my friend. The True Believers have made us weak. No more. We take back our children; we protect our women. We kill them where they stand.”
Beaux’s mouth watered. He loved the idea.
Chapter Eight
Lake hated men. Every last one of them. She took a bite of her banana and flipped a page in one of Beaux’s books. She wanted to take her banana and shove it up Beaux’s….
No. She sighed. She really didn’t want to harm him. If he was being cruel, well, she’d wanted him to stop desiring her. She’d wanted to put an end to any sentimentality between them so he wouldn’t miss her when she died.
And he wouldn’t try to fix her, to solve her problem, when it was an inevitable death. He needed to focus his attention on the kids. If she kept reminding herself, maybe she’d believe.
She stared down at the page in front of her. With her head pounding, every word seemed to pulsate. Lake squinted, trying to steady her eyes. Was it her impending death making her head pound or plain old stress? Werewolves didn’t really get headaches. Who knew what she was anymore? Tears flowed out of her eyes, and, given all the Alphas were occupied, she felt free to indulge in the emotional outburst.
Healer Prime. What the hell was that? Certainly not her. If the books were right, then the Healer Prime was the greatest Healer in the werewolf universe. She’d be able to heal everyone, a truly unique gift.
That wasn’t her. She’d always been fucked up. Her own parents and brother wondered about her sanity. Healer Primes didn’t get drunk and let their pack mates die. They didn’t get kidnapped because they were stupid and insisted on having their own way when it wasn’t safe.
They didn’t get experimented on like some kind of lab rat and left to destroy all the werewolves around them.
Lake wiped at her eyes. Tears had never been her thing. Her mother had hated them, yet she did have to admit she felt better.
A knock sounded on the library door, and she darted to her feet. Whoever was outside had done her a courtesy by knocking. They probably smelled her tears, which was more than she could do. Her werewolf senses were returning, but too slowly for her liking.
She knew it wasn’t Beaux or Cyrus. No way would either of them knock. They’d bang through the door and probably make the situation worse. Another reason she couldn’t possibly be the Healer Prime.
Cara, the member of Beaux’s pack who had given birth the night before, stood before her. Lake caught her breath while she did a quick assessment of the other woman’s health. She’d been in hard shape during labor. It surprised her how revived Cara looked now. Didn’t the woman have an infant keeping her up all night? Unless she had really gotten lucky and had one of the rare babies who slept.
“Are you okay?”
Now that Cara wasn’t writhing in pain, Lake could admire how pretty she was. Tall with brown hair and eyes more golden than brown. She had a round face and the milk for the new baby made her breasts look phenomenal. Lake had to smile. In New York she and her girlfriends would have called them “porn star hot.” That had to be some consolation after spending so much time pregnant and then the pain of labor.
Lake would never know childbirth. Her grin fell. Kids had always been on the horizon. A maybe. Now she’d die never holding her own baby in her arms.
Cara reached out and grabbed her arm. “Are you okay?”
Faking a smile had never been so hard. Somehow she managed it. But her scent was beyond her control.
“Fine. Just a lot of noise in my head right now. Don’t mind me. I’m nuts.”
The other woman snorted. “We’re all a little crazy here. Don’t worry, it works for us. Thanks to Beaux. I came by to thank you.”
“For what?”
She liked Cara. It was nice to have a woman to talk to right t
hen, considering how much she wanted to pummel the men around her.
“For saving my baby. For taking care of me when I thought it was all coming to an end.”
“Oh.” Lake shook her head. “There’s no need to thank me. Healing is what I do, what I was born for. I’m so glad I was here to help.”
The other woman stepped farther into the room. “You weren’t really born to heal. You were born for Beaux, as he was for you. It’s the nature of the True Mating.”
“Right.” Her voice hitched and she looked away. “How is the baby?”
“Sleeping on my mate’s chest.”
Lake glanced back in time to see a look of pure bliss cross Cara’s face.
“You should get back to them. If the baby is sleeping, you should be too.”
Because she couldn’t control herself she reached out and grabbed Cara’s arm. The other woman’s milk hadn’t come in yet. Lake couldn’t explain how she knew this any more than she could fathom why she breathed and why her heart beat. She knew. That was it.
The milk would be there soon. Cara’s swollen mounds were evidence of the incoming change. When the experience finally happened, the sweet woman in front in of her was going to be exhausted and in pain. Nothing bothered Lake more than those two things—although in this case, the cause was natural and desired.
Still, she could help. No—she had to help. Lake had no choice. She never did.
With what little power she still had left, she sent Cara a surge of energy. The other woman’s body would store the power as a reserve until she needed the help. Then it would be there.
Even if Lake no longer could be.
Cara blinked rapidly. “Thank you.”
The woman was obviously not going to stop giving her unnecessary gratitude. “Okay. You’re welcome.”
“The book on the table.”
Lake turned to where Cara had pointed. She hadn’t realized the new mother had seen the book she had been reading.
“Do you think you could be the Healer Prime?”
“No.”
Her denial sounded forced, yet she really didn’t see how it was possible.
“Beaux does so I had to look it up to see what it means.”
“Well, if Beaux thinks it’s true, then he must know what he’s talking about. He doesn’t make mistakes, not when it comes to werewolf truths.”
Lake smiled. In this case, Beaux was seeing what he wanted to instead of accurately taking a hard look at the person he’d been mated to. Lake wouldn’t disagree with him publicly, not to his pack mates. He would need them after she was gone, and a healthy pack believed in its Alpha. She wouldn’t interfere in his relationships.
“I’ll get back to the baby. I wanted to say welcome. There aren’t many women in our pack yet. More male werewolves embrace the old ways than female, I guess. Those of us here are so glad for you. Only wonderful things are going to happen now.”
“I….” Lake’s voice faltered, and she steeled her spine. “I’m always going to be grateful to, um, the Moon for bringing me here.”
She wasn’t lying in her gratitude to be with them right then, and Cara must have been able to smell her truth because she was all smiles when she left. Lake closed the door behind her and leaned her own head against the wood for a second.
Beaux would find the children. The Alphas would make plans, and she would help where she could. The last thing she would do before she went mad and had to be put down would be to make people’s lives better. It would have to count for something.
The book on the table caught her eye and she made her way over to it again. This time when she sat down she forced herself to focus.
She’d read the words ten times over earlier, only this time she tried to commit them to memory so she never had to study them again.
The Healer Prime is always a woman. Well, that made sense. All Healers were women, like all Alphas were men. Humans were able to bend gender roles—and Lake had always admired their ability to do so—but instincts kept werewolves in certain positions. She didn’t see those roles changing any time soon and didn’t imagine she’d ever want to be Alpha anyway. Her brother was responsible for the well-being of hundreds of werewolves. He could keep his job far, far away from her.
Beaux had a smaller pack, but the weight of the worry would be the same. The pack looking to him to know what to do, believing in his word like it had come from the moon itself….
No. Thank. You.
A gifted Healer whose abilities go beyond those of the normal Healer talents. She’d never thought of herself as particularly gifted, and, considering Kyra was now dead due to Lake’s drunken ineptness, she doubted very much if anyone else would use the word talented to describe her. She’d bet money Healer Primes didn’t make mistakes which got people killed.
Kyra’s husband and children would never call Lake gifted, more like horribly untalented.
The Healer Prime doesn’t heal because she can, she heals because she must. A compulsion to fix what is wrong in front of her. She cannot breathe if she doesn’t make those around her well.
She could relate to those words. Lake chewed on her fingernail. An old habit and one she’d thought she’d long given up. With a groan, she pulled her hand out of her mouth. Didn’t all Healers feel compelled to make people better? Wasn’t that the point?
Why hadn’t anyone ever held a camp for Healers? Lucian had trained up the Alphas. Where had the mentors been for her?
The Prime is different than the regular Healer. Once she has encountered someone, she is always aware of them, somewhere in her mind. If they are injured thousands of miles away she can suddenly feel the need to go to them or have them appear before her.
Well, thankfully, those occurrences had never taken place. She’d met too many people in her life to feel the need to rush around and assist them with whatever was going on. What a nightmare. The Healer Prime would never get a break; she’d be constantly on, day or night.
As with most werewolves, if the Healer Prime is lucky enough to find a True Mate, he will balance her and protect her through the path she has to walk.
Lake’s stomach tightened. She refused to think too much about the passage she had just read. The True Believers had ended whatever chance she and Beaux might have had. Or maybe she needed to take the full blame for their predicament. She’d run from him when she’d discovered they were mates. If she’d stayed in Montana, maybe none of this would have happened.
The book had one final note.
It is important to note the Healer Prime is never in full possession of her powers until her Rebirth.
Well, Lake had no idea what to make of that final statement or why the word rebirth had an asterisk next to it. She rubbed at her forehead. What the hell was a rebirth?
The door swung open, and Beaux sauntered in. She didn’t generally think of him as having a swagger but there was a different strut to his walk. Lake couldn’t scent his mood so, like human women, she relied on his external signs.
Beaux was happy, which was a major shift since the last time she saw him, and he walked like a man who knew he was hot shit.
She put her hands on her hips as her exhaustion changed quickly to fury. How dare he be so happy when she was so confused? When he’d left her with a stammering Cyrus and instructions to look up what it meant to be the Healer Prime.
Oh, hell, no.
Lake launched forward, and he caught her with a laugh, wrapping her flung out hands around his neck until she clung to him like she’d wanted a hug instead of a fight.
“Come on now, darling, you really don’t want to claw out my eyes. How on earth will I look at your pretty face?”
“Look up the Healer Prime? That’s what you say to me, you arrogant asshole?”
He shrugged before he set her back down on her feet.
“Maybe not my finest moment. You did shove me from your body last night and say deliberately hurtful things to cover whatever is bothering you.”
“You ha
ve a point.”
For good measure she hit him in the arm. Her whack must have hurt because her hands burned to soothe the impact and before she could stop herself—oh, hell, who was she kidding she could never stop herself—she sent energy to the would-be bruise until it softened beneath her skin.
Beaux raised a dark eyebrow. “First you injure me. Then you fix it?”
“I’m passive-aggressive. What can I say?”
He smoothed the hair off her forehead, and she shivered. It would be easy to press up against him, to let his warmth override the strain of real life, for a few minutes. Could she pretend all would be all right? Probably. Would she? No. It wouldn’t be fair to him.
“You’re thinking too hard.”
She smiled. If only she could have met Beaux five years earlier. They could have had a life of some kind. Lake made herself swallow past the lump in her throat.
“Force of habit.”
“We need to do something about your so-called habits.”
Before she had the chance to ask him what he was doing, he backed her into the table where the book she had been reading lay. She wouldn’t have expected it, considering how much he seemed to care about the things in the library. He then pushed the contents of the table onto the ground.
“I’m not going to ask you if you think you’re Healer Prime.”
“Oh.” He wasn’t? “Okay.”
“Nope.” He shook his head, the play of a smile on his face. “Last night didn’t go the way it should have.”
Being so close to Beaux did bad things to libido, or good things depending on how she wanted to look at it. Her body felt swollen, ready, and desperate for his touch in any way he wanted to give it to her.
“I beg to differ. I think it all went as it should have.”
He shook his head. “Let me take care of you, Lake.”
“What? No.” She was a Healer; she took care of everyone else. Not the other way around.
Beaux picked her up with hand and deposited her on the table. “Lean back.”