Exodus (6 page)

“You’re not Varex,” she cried out, tossing the plant to the ground. “You’ll never be him!”

“No, I won’t,” Valen agreed. In the months since Varex had died, Beal had become increasingly irrational. He’d hoped she’d begin to heal. Instead, she grew angrier and more hateful by the day.

“You brought these stupid humans here, with their stupid, prudish ways,” Beal complained, whipping off her cloth covering. “Well, they can accept me as I am or fuck off.”

Valen couldn’t let her continue. “You can accept the pack rules—or leave.” He became aware of a growing crowd of observers.

“Mom?” Rivvie said tremulously behind him. “Please stop.”

Beal scowled at them both. “You’re no better than your brother, taking up with a human—and a pathetic one at that!”

There were more than a few gasps, and someone took off running. Judging by Rivvie’s soft curse, Valen thought it must have been Matt.

Valen drew himself up to his full height, bracing himself in the air of authority he wielded as alpha of the pack. “That’s enough. You’ve been warned. One more show of disrespect, and you’ll be cast out. If you think that would make Varex proud of you, then go ahead.”

Beal’s stubborn expression had him preparing for the worst, then she burst into tears, a sob wrenched from her. She stooped to grab the material she’d cast off, and without another word, she ran to her den.

“Gods be damned,” Valen muttered, his heart aching for her.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron said beside him. “I wish she didn’t hate me—or the villagers.”

“Her hurt is understandable.”

Valen and Aaron both turned to find Anita, Aaron’s mother, immediately behind them. She looked almost as sad as Valen felt.

“Her heart has been shattered, and that makes for a potent bitterness that she must work past or it will consume her,” Anita explained. “Perhaps when your shaman returns, she can help Beal. The anger has been growing in her and she’s lashing out at everyone, even me. I can’t even say hello without getting a foul name tossed my way, but I understand her pain, Valen, so please don’t punish her for directing some of it at me.”

“I can’t have her acting this way,” Valen said. “She will not be allowed to abuse anyone in this pack. It’s true that she’s hurting. I’d hoped she’d get better. She hasn’t. She’s only gotten angrier and meaner, and she isn’t going to punish innocent people for what she’s suffered, nor will she continue to disregard me as the alpha of this pack.”

Anita wrung her hands as Aaron shooed off the rest of the spectators. “Valen, please consider her pain. If you lost Aaron, after many years together, you would be filled with anger, too.”

Valen shook his head. “No. I would be dead. I won’t live without him.”

Aaron spun around to him. “Don’t say that. You can’t—”

“I will not lie, not to you, or anyone else about how much I love you. Don’t ask me to.” Valen took Aaron into his arms and whispered in his ear, “If you can go on without me should I die before you, then do so. I wish you no harm, ever, love. You’re a stronger man than me. I can’t make it without you.”

Aaron trembled and clung to him.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Anita said. “Although you might consider some privacy if you plan to do things.” She headed back to wherever she’d come from. Valen couldn’t remember just what she’d been scheduled to do or who he’d paired her with.

“Things,” Aaron snickered. “I’m the thing you’re going to be doing.”

“I heard that,” Anita called out.

Aaron groaned. “Gross. Mom heard me making a sex joke. I may be traumatized forever.”

Valen was very tempted to put Aaron over his shoulder and carry him back to their den for a long, sweet lovemaking session, or a few short, rough ones—or some combination of both. He wasn’t picky. Unfortunately, sex would have to wait. “I’ve got to check on Mom, and see if all the other paired up teams are doing okay. Join me?”

“I wish I could, but I need to get back to making an extra set of Lanaka’s notes. Having only the one copy could prove disastrous, and she did ask me to take care of the task,” Aaron added. “It seems she believes, as I do, that the written histories for some things are very important.”

Valen knew what Aaron was after, and he saw no reason to continue protesting it. “Fine, you can begin on the history of shifters after you finish with Lanaka’s works. I’ll ask everyone to cooperate with your interviews and questions.”

Aaron squealed in delight and gave him a big hug. “Thank you! It’ll be fine. I know it will. Shifters outnumber humans now, and look, we’re merging the two here. In time, maybe the world will be a place where we’re all a hybrid of sorts.”

“Go on, and I’ll see you at the den later.” Valen watched Aaron dart off, his cute butt flexing with every step he took. Once his mate was gone, Valen returned to his duties. The pack lands had changed a lot in the past few months, with buildings—homes—being erected in a similar fashion to the ones that had been up in the village. Those were more complicated to fabricate, whereas the original pack members had generally slept in their wolf forms in dens or out in the open, bodies piled close to and even on top of each other. They’d been close, and now with the changes Valen had implemented, he worried that was changing.

No, he knew it was. It had to, if he was going to make a success of combining the villagers with the pack. Eventually, things would even out. Valen hated having to wear cloth over his genitals and ass as much as any other shifter did, but he’d live with it. Slowly, the villagers were loosening up.

Some of them, anyway
.

He’d seen village men wearing the small strips of cloth over their hips instead of the more restrictive pants. Some of the women had stripped down to shorter pants and cloths that came to the middle of their thighs. Unlike the original pack females, though, the village women kept their breasts covered.

And he needed to stop thinking of them as villagers and original pack members, but damn it all, sometimes he got his brain in a knot trying to avoid stepping on anyone’s toes.

He let his mind drift from pack problems to plans and goals as he wandered from one setting to the next. Mary and Jui were laughing and working fine together on sanding the pieces of wood needed for a home being constructed by another two women, who, while not particularly jovial to each other, at least were being civil.

Valen greeted them and all of the other pairs he checked on. For the most part, everyone was being good about following his orders, working together and trying to get to know each other. A few people clearly weren’t meant to be working together, and Valen arranged to speak with each of them alone. Once he decided how to pair them off in a manner more conducive to pack cohesiveness, he’d put those plans into motion.

The second smokehouse for the meat storage was finally finished, and the scents coming from it were delicious. Valen was proud of himself—and of his pack. They were all healthy and flourishing, if a bit nervous still at times. The villagers in particular had been very thin as a whole when he’d brought them here. They’d had so much trouble finding enough food to eat, but now they were all sufficiently fed and it showed.

Valen’s second to last stop was the ceremony building. Rivvie and Matt weren’t there, which he’d have been irked about had the whole fit with his mother not happened earlier. He suspected that Matt and Rivvie were fucking, and that it was to have been kept private. Well, Beal had ripped the door off that secret. Valen would check on them individually later, or if they were together, he’d do it that way.

The carving on the wood framing the doorway of the building was exquisite. Who’d have known Rivvie had such talent? Valen certainly hadn’t had a clue.

Rivvie had carved unfamiliar swirling symbols, likely sigils, along with things Valen did recognize. The moon, stars, planets, animals—including wolves of course—were everywhere in the mix. As he touched the fine carvings, Valen imagined he could feel a subtle, steady power coming from them. Maybe it was all in his head, or maybe his big brother had made some magic with his carvings.

Valen left the ceremony building and glanced up at the sky. It was getting close to sunset, but that wasn’t what he was looking at. Dark, forbidding clouds were rolling in too fast for his comfort. An ominous feeling skirted up his spine and made the hairs on his nape quiver.

As a warning system, it was effective. Valen believed in portents, and he knew something bad was coming. He wasn’t sure if it was the storm itself. He doubted it. Nature was a lot of things, but vindictive wasn’t one of them. This, the feeling still slithering over him, felt like a hateful touch, a thousand bad wishes, malice amplified to the fullest breadth of possibility.

He looked back at the carvings. Maybe he was imagining things. He’d just been fancying them to be magical, so his head was in a weird place.

Valen kept an eye on the sky as he loped over to his mom’s den. He wasn’t surprised to find her gone. He just hoped she was going to come back.

Chapter Seven

Rivvie paced his den, anxious for more reasons than the main one—Matt had told him he needed time and space. “Time and space,” Rivvie muttered. “Time is not in our hands, and space is everywhere. What does that even
mean
, for fuck’s sake?”

And they’d been doing so good, only arguing a few times. Matt wasn’t so obnoxious, and Rivvie could admit, at least privately, that he’d perhaps been too harsh in his criticism of Matt to Valen.

Then again, maybe not. Matt had just earlier that day tried to tell Epia how to make a better knife blade. Shifters generally didn’t bother with weapons, so Rivvie couldn’t say if the blade was good or not. Epia, however, had explained that she’d been making blades and weapons since before Matt had been spat out of his mother’s body. Rivvie had cringed with revulsion when Epia had said that, because she’d used even cruder words and been more descriptive.

Matt had become angry and between the two of them yelling, Rivvie had wanted to brain them both. He’d settled for dragging Mattie away and kissing him senseless once they’d been out of sight from any potential onlookers. Even after that, Matt had spent ten minutes griping about how he was right and Epia was losing her mind.

Well, Rivvie knew how she felt. He was about to go batshit nuts if he didn’t hear from Matt. When a knock came at his door, Rivvie ran to open it and couldn’t hide his disappointment when he saw that it was Valen outside.

“Don’t look so thrilled to see me,” Valen said wryly. “And Mom is gone. I don’t know if she’s coming back.”

Sadness descended on Rivvie, heavier than it had before. “Gods, what a mess. I hate that she can’t adjust.”

“Me, too. If you see her, let me know.” Valen leaned against the door and studied him. “You look like shit. So did Matt. I’ll tell you what I told him. You two should just get together and make each other happy for a while.”

Rivvie ran a hand through his hair. It reminded him of all the times Mattie had done the same thing to him, only Mattie tended to tug and pull while grinding against Rivvie.

He had to stop thinking like that because it simply wouldn’t do to get a boner around his brother. The whole idea of that was skeevy. “You talked to Matt?”

Valen nodded, looking so wise in that moment that Rivvie wanted to swear his loyalty to Valen all over again.

“He’s miserable and he’s a mess, and if that’s what you want, then have it at, bro,” Valen said.

“He’s what I want,” Rivvie confirmed. He sat in one of his chairs. “Am I a good beta? I don’t feel like I’ve done anything to help you.”

Valen joined him at the table. “Sure you have, Riv, but right now, there’s nothing much for you to do other than what I ask in regard to making this a cohesive pack. I have no wannabe alphas trying to fight me, and we’re safe, without the marauders to attack us. The biggest threat we have is the pack tearing itself apart because the villagers and original pack members are too set in their ways to adjust to a new, and hopefully better, way of living.” Valen shivered and glanced toward the door.

“What is it?” Rivvie felt a chill that wasn’t natural. He frowned and glanced from the door to Valen. “Val?”

Valen shook himself. “I don’t know. Something’s off. I can’t describe it.”

At that moment, thunder cracked loudly. Rivvie felt the ground shake. “Fuck, that’s—”

“Close,” Valen finished. “Lightning must be on us. I wonder how Matt will handle a storm in a cave. He hasn’t built his house yet.”

“I’m aware of that,” Rivvie muttered. “You’re prodding me.”

“You think so?” Valen stood up then made his way to the door. “Maybe you need prodding.” With that, Valen left, cursing when he stepped out into the driving rain.

Rivvie was right behind him. The rain had come down suddenly, and he could hardly see through it. The world had turned into liquid sheets of gray, and a cold, brutal wind slapped at Rivvie as he stood in the doorway. It carried with it that rain that was obstructing his view.

“Fuck!” Rivvie stepped back. “Cold!” How the hell was Valen running off in that without screeching?
He must be going home to Aaron.

Rivvie closed the door. Matt had said he needed time and space. How much of both? Rivvie couldn’t begin to guess, but he could start worrying again.

Does Mattie have candles? His den is facing the opposite direction of mine. Is the rain coming through somewhere? Does his door have a tight seal to keep the water out? Is he cold? Miserable? Does he miss me?

Rivvie was going to drive himself nuts with all the questions. Fed up with himself, he opened the door and stepped out into the torrential rain. The second he closed the door, he shifted. It still sucked. The rain was icy cold, the winds were uncommonly strong. Thunder and lightning were almost constant.

Rivvie hauled his wolf-ass right to Matt’s. He hadn’t been there yet. All their time together had been working or at Rivvie’s den. Rivvie needed to see Matt and try to talk him into less time and space.

Despite the rain having only started up minutes before, there were already puddles all over the place. Normally, Rivvie would have splashed and dashed through them and had a good wolfy time. Not now. He was cold and worried about Matt. The storm was scary. Valen had a bad feeling, too, and Rivvie trusted his senses.