Rivals (Shifter Island #2) (7 page)

He laid her on the ground so he could make his last few thrusts easily, hands braced on either side of her, looking down at her with an expression she hoped she would never forget.

When they were finished he lay down beside her and rolled her toward him. They were both slick with sweat, enough so that they slipped around a little. That made her giggle. Nothing had ever felt as good as this, she thought: being this close, a little woozy from the urgency of their lovemaking, still tingling from her orgasm.

“I love you,” she murmured into his ear.

To her surprise, he didn’t say anything.

“Tell me,” she said.

“They’ll send me away, Abby,” he groaned, not quite looking at her, then shifting his gaze to her eyes. “They
are
foolish old men. They surrender too easily. This seems like a reasonable answer, the sensible answer for the good of the pack. They’ll send me away and we’ll never see each other again—unless you stop them.”

“Me?” she squeaked.

“Give them the answer they need. You can do it.”

“And what if they don’t listen? They don’t want to hear me. You saw that. They keep telling me to be quiet.”

“Change their minds,” Aaron said.

She came out of the dream flustered and struggling, feeling as if she were drowning in the nest of blankets Granny Sara had put together for her. She sat up with the blankets twisted around her, forcing herself to calm down, to breathe slowly and silently so that she wouldn’t wake Sara or the ever-present Micah, who was curled up like a dog in front of the fire.

Her head was still spinning as she shoved the blankets aside, then groped for her shoes and put them on.

Change their minds?

How was she supposed to change anyone’s mind?

Granny Sara and her grandson were sound enough sleepers that they didn’t stir when Abby crept across the room and let herself out of the house. It was possible, Abby guessed, that they were aware of her on some subliminal level, but she was able to close the door behind her without anyone interrupting her.

But… what now?

The village seemed quiet in the darkness, nothing stirring except the breeze. Abby was awake enough now to remember that wolves were nocturnal, which meant it was likely that at least a few of them were wandering around in the woods, and maybe here within the confines of the village. Their night vision was probably a lot better than hers, and their sense of smell certainly was.

So… what to do?

She needed to find an ally. Not Granny Sara; Sara was simply another human, someone the elders might not think was worth listening to, no matter what she had to say. They might give her the respect due to an older person, but Abby suspected that in the eyes of the elders, Sara was just an older version of Abby herself.

No; she needed to find an ally among the wolves.

More than a little worried, she looked around the village, up and down the dirt paths leading to the clusters of homes and common buildings. In the end, she had only one choice. There was only one wolf who might be more worried about Aaron’s fate than about the good of the pack.

She hurried down the path with her skin prickling, feeling that she was being watched by hundreds of eyes. No one appeared, though, and she reached Aaron’s family’s home with a huge sense of relief that grew even larger when she noticed a light in the window, the flicker of a lantern burning inside. It wasn’t a surprise that someone was awake; Aaron’s parents were probably taking turns sitting with Luca.

Nodding to herself, she rapped gently on the door.

Jeremiah opened it a moment later.

“Please,” Abby said. “Can I come in?”

He stepped aside and let her in without speaking, then closed the door behind her. She could see Rachel sitting at Luca’s bedside, his hand wrapped in hers. Rachel was murmuring something to her son. A story, maybe, or a prayer. Maybe she was just talking to him, letting him hear the sound of her voice.

“Aaron–” she said to Jeremiah.

“Is confined.”

“He didn’t do this.” She nodded toward Luca. “You must know that, Jeremiah. He wouldn’t hurt his brother.”

Jeremiah wouldn’t meet her eyes. That shocked her, that he would stand by like this. Did he really believe Aaron was capable of this? Or was he so cowed by the elders that he would go along with anything they decided?

This place was no paradise, she decided. Not if people acted like this. It made them no better than anybody on the mainland. Anybody
human
.

Rather than look at Aaron’s father, she looked off into the bedroom, at the way Rachel was leaning toward her son, holding on to him through the power of her voice. Abby’s mom had done much the same thing when Abby was sick, sitting at her bedside or snuggling in with her under the covers, singing or talking softly, bathing Abby’s feverish forehead with a cool washcloth, bringing her soup and crackers, changing her nightie when she got too sweaty.

This was the person who’d listen to her. The one who’d go to the mat for Aaron, no matter what the elders said. No, she hadn’t argued Aaron’s innocence to Daniel—but Daniel was terrifying, and Rachel had been deeply shocked to see her older son hurt so badly.

And Daniel wasn’t here now.

Ignoring Jeremiah, Abby crept into the bedroom and stood on the other side of the bed from Rachel.

“We can’t let this happen,” she whispered. “You have to help me. We need to help Aaron.”

For a moment Rachel did nothing. Then she nodded, a simple, single dip of her head.

There was no chair for her to sit on, so Abby moved close to the bed and took Luca’s free hand in her own. She was surprised how cold it felt—and was more surprised when, within a few seconds, it kindled into warmth, almost as if someone had flipped a switch.

It seemed as though he was communicating with her in that way… or maybe the wolf inside him was.

Did he know she was here? Could he hear her? She remembered reading that people who were unconscious could still hear what was going on around them, even if they were dying.

So…

“Luca,” she said quietly, trying not to let her voice shake. “Luca, can you hear me?”

In the other room, Jeremiah growled.

Abby tightened her grip on Luca’s hand. As she did, she began to feel warmth coming from somewhere else, another kind of contact, one that filled her entire body with both security and need.

Aaron, reaching out to her from wherever he was being held.

Using her to grasp his brother’s hand.

A few seconds ticked by, broken only by the rasp of Luca’s breathing.

“You’re the only one who can tell us what happened,” Abby said quietly but firmly to the still, silent form on the bed. “You’re the only one who can make this right. Do it, Luca. Help your brother.”

Jeremiah came to loom in the doorway. “Stop this,” he said. “Leave the boy in peace.”

“So he can die?” Abby said. “You’ll just stand there and let your son die? That makes you just about as useless as
my
father. Someday I’ll tell you how angry he makes me. How he almost wrecked me—how I just put up with everything people did to me until I found your son.”

Without giving him a chance to respond, she turned back to Luca and wove her fingers with his. “Luca,” she commanded. “Your mother’s here. Your brother’s here. You can feel them here, can’t you? Come back to them. Don’t give up because somebody thinks you ought to.”

She looked over at Rachel, who seemed a little flustered. “We’ve tried to call him back,” Rachel whispered. “It didn’t work.”

“I wasn’t helping you then,” Abby said. “I’ll help you now.”

“You’re a human.”

“I’m—” Abby shook her head. “I don’t know. I feel like I’m more than that. Aaron sent me here. He wants me to stop this.”

For a long stretch of time, Rachel seemed unconvinced.

Then she didn’t.

“Leave us, Jeremiah,” she said to her husband. “If you can’t help us call him back, at least don’t interfere with us.”

Like all the men on this island, Jeremiah seemed to entirely fill the doorway. Not just because he was tall and broad-shouldered; it was something more, a sense of power Abby had seen in only a few people back on the mainland. A sense of invincibility. Not ego; true strength.

For a moment she thought he might order her to leave his house, that he might even order her to be locked up somewhere.

Then he barked, “LUCA.”

Rachel picked up the call. “Luca. Come back to us. It’s not your time. Come back to us.”

The three of them continued the call together, speaking Luca’s name over and over again, pleading to his love and loyalty and his will to live, continuing on even after their voices had grown raw and raspy.

For what seemed like hours, they called.

Then, finally, with an enormous shudder and a groan of deep, cutting pain, Luca opened his eyes.

“Come out,” Daniel said.

His expression gave away none of what he was thinking, or what he intended to do, and for a moment Aaron thought this was the end of it, that he was going to be force-marched down to the boats for the beginning of his long trip to Colorado.

He couldn’t tell how long he’d been sitting inside that windowless room with nothing but four plain wooden walls to look at; it might have been a few hours, or an entire day.

Then he felt a pull toward home.

There were other members of the pack behind the watcher: Mason and a couple of the younger wolves. An escort party, no doubt. Aaron wondered if they’d give him a few minutes to talk to his parents before they swept him away.

Then Mason said in a low rumble, “Your brother wants to talk to you.”

Brother…?

Aaron felt an urge to run past him, to push them all out of his way and bolt out of this place, but Daniel was definitely still a force to be reckoned with. He didn’t seem inclined to allow Aaron to run anywhere.

“He’s awake?” Aaron asked.

“He is,” Mason said.

“When did this happen? Has the healer seen him? Has he recovered from his wounds?”

Rather than answer him, Daniel gripped Aaron’s upper arm in his hand and half-dragged him out into the main part of the gathering house.

Caleb was there, accompanied by several more of the younger wolves, all of whom seemed ready to enjoy a little exercise in the form of wrestling Aaron to the ground. A couple of them were Aaron’s age, the rest somewhat younger. It wouldn’t take more than one or two of them to cripple him if that was what the elders ordered them to do.

Because of Daniel’s desire to maintain control, the walk to Aaron’s family’s home was a long one, and they were watched by what seemed like everyone in the community along the way. The mood of the crowd was hard to pin down; some of them seemed angry, some puzzled, and some of them seemed glad to have something interesting to watch. It made Aaron feel naked and helpless.

He felt no better when they reached the house and he was greeted by his scowling father.

“Is Luca–” Aaron began, but his father’s scowl only deepened.

Then he was thrust inside the house, the door was closed, and he was left in the company of his sire.

Was he supposed to confess? he wondered. Had Luca blamed him, after all? Maybe Luca hadn’t actually seen who was attacking him, and had decided it was Aaron because they had quarreled.

“It isn’t true,” he blurted.

His father stepped out of the way, revealing the open doorway of the bedroom Aaron and Luca normally shared. Luca was still lying there in bed, but he was propped up on some pillows, pale but conscious. Their mother was sitting on one side of the bed—and Abby was standing on the other side. Seeing her sent a rush of pleasure through Aaron; it seemed to mean that she’d followed through with his request, that she’d come here to help him, and it had worked.

Or had it?

His feet felt heavy as he walked into the bedroom, and by the time he reached the bed he felt weak enough to need to sit down alongside his brother’s legs. The bed creaked loudly when he did so, and it seemed like a bad sign that Luca didn’t move his legs over to give Aaron a little more room, the way he would have under normal circumstances. Aaron searched Luca’s face anxiously, looking for answers, clues that his brother was going to be all right, and felt his stomach clench at how unlike himself Luca still looked.

“Brother,” Luca said quietly.

Aaron nodded and reached for his brother’s hand. Luca accepted the touch, but there was almost no strength in his grip.

“Tell him what you told us,” Jeremiah said from the doorway.

Luca closed his eyes and drew in a long breath. He seemed like he might fall back asleep. When he opened his eyes again, he said in a sorrowful tone, “I know it wasn’t you who attacked me.”

“Who, then?” Aaron asked.

“It was Micah.”

That hit Aaron like a thunderbolt.
Micah??
Granny Sara’s mostly useless grandson, the wolf who had spent his entire life wandering around the settlement, always underfoot, stealing more than his share of treats, upsetting the children with that constant, odd expression of his?

“Are you sure?” Aaron said.

Luca looked over at his mother, then at Abby. Finally, at his father. “I’m sure. He seemed like he’d gone insane.”

Still thunderstruck, Aaron leaned over and sniffed up and down his brother’s torso. Yes, there was a hint of Micah’s scent there, but it was mixed with the scents of a dozen other wolves, male and female—and Abby’s.

“Micah helped carry him here,” Jeremiah said. “We thought nothing of his scent being on Luca’s skin.”

“Has anyone confronted him?”

Aaron turned to demand an answer from his father. Jeremiah shook his head, then lifted a hand to grip his jaw in his palm, as if he wanted to smother something that was threatening to come out of his mouth.

Aaron could well imagine what he was thinking: how would Granny Sara react to this? She’d sheltered and protected Micah for most of his life, had taken him into her home after his parents were killed. Would she believe he had harmed someone, let alone attacked them as viciously as this?

That explained the continuing anger of Caleb and Mason and the others. They didn’t believe it either.

“But why?” Aaron asked. “Why would he do this?”

But he already knew the answer.

“That’s ridiculous,” Katrin said.

She moved to walk around Aaron, to leave him behind, but he sidestepped quickly and blocked her path.

“You’d rather believe that
I
attacked Luca?” he demanded. “My own brother? You’ve known us all our lives, Kat. Does that make any sense to you?”

It wasn’t ridiculous, not at all. Some distance away, not far from Granny Sara’s house, Micah was even now watching them. Once Aaron had started thinking about it, he’d realized how often it had been that he’d caught Micah following Katrin around, watching her, trying to offer her small gifts and treats. She accepted the offerings sometimes; other times, she declined. As far back as Aaron could remember, she’d never made any real time for Micah, had never extended any real friendship to him—but it was possible that Micah had interpreted her accepting some of his gifts as a type of friendship. And something more.

Katrin blinked at him and shook her head. “No, I don’t believe that. But Micah–”

She was trying not to look at Micah, but she knew he was there. Knew he was watching.

“Luca shunned you, Kat,” Aaron said. “If Micah feels that the two of you were meant to be together, if he’s decided that you’re his mate—then he sees Luca as competition. Luca, who hasn’t treated you well for years.”

She wouldn’t say anything more, so Aaron left her and strode down the path toward Granny Sara’s useless grandson.

He remembered, now, noticing Micah’s scent among all the others in the glen and thinking how unlikely that seemed. Like the other scents, it had been full of rich emotion, full of what Aaron had assumed was lust.

It wasn’t lust. It was hatred.

He thought Micah might try to run, but he didn’t. He simply stood where he was, watching Aaron approach, his expression dull and unreadable—but there was something burning in his eyes.

“It was you,” Aaron said when he reached the other wolf.

Micah blinked lazily at him.

“It was you,” Aaron repeated. “You attacked my brother and meant for him to die. You’ve committed a grave offense against my family, and the entire pack. My brother should challenge you, but he won’t be strong enough for weeks.”

Micah seemed unperturbed, but that quiet fire was still burning in his eyes.

“I speak in his place,” Aaron said. “I challenge you, Micah.”

“Do you?” Micah murmured.

“I do. I’ll announce it to the pack. Tomorrow at sunrise, I will fight you until one of us is dead.”