One of Gwenola’s daughters stepped forward, head held high. “I’m Florine, I’ll help you and Jacinthe will too. She’s strong and I’m certain she’s Beta material. Her hair’s short like that because she stood up to our father more than once and he cut it off to teach her a lesson . . . one she refused to learn. He ended up locking her in the cellar for a month instead.”
Gwenola nodded. “Yes, Florine is strong too, although she was a little more discreet in her disobedience against Jermaine. He never caught her stealing supplies and giving it to the weakest in the Pack, thank goodness. He would have killed her if he had.”
Zohar looked at the two girls, noticing the defiance in both their eyes. The third daughter, Katel, stood off to the side, her eyes told a different story altogether. One that he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear. He saw fear and loathing deep inside the girl but the main thing he saw was that her spirit had been well and truly broken.
Gwenola went to Katel’s side, her arm winding around her daughter’s shoulder protectively. “Katel suffered terribly at her father’s hands. She’ll stay with me.”
Florine rushed to her sister’s side. “Of course, Mother. You know I’ll always protect Katel, nobody will ever hurt her again, not while I still draw breath. Anyone who tries will have their heart ripped out and stuffed down their throat to choke on. Don’t worry, Sis, you know I’ve got your back.”
Katel remained in place and silent, although her body shook with what Zohar knew was suppressed fear. He’d seen the signs in far too many abused Wolves and hoped that now Jermaine was gone that Katel’s family would be able to help her mend her hidden wounds.
Danko coughed, breaking the somber turn of the conversation. “This meal is wonderful. Your cooking is out of this world, Gwenola.”
“Thank you.” The woman beamed back, her cheeks reddening at the compliment.
Zohar started to pile food on his plate, finishing his first helping so fast he didn’t even taste it, before adding another vast serving. Gwenola chattering away non-stop as he ate. He tuned most of it out, his hunger gnawing away at his belly and taking up most of his attention, until Danko smacked his arm with his fork.
“Hey, Earth to Zohar . . . Gwenola asked you a question.”
A growl escaped before he could stop it, Katel scooting backward with a terrified stare, her sister, Florine stepping in front to shield her. Zohar shaking his head to clear the red haze of anger that had reared its head. “Apologies, my thoughts were elsewhere.”
Gwenola scrutinized him, her head cocked to the side, Danko breaking the awkward silence. “Gwenola was asking if you were going to officiate at the funeral for Libby.”
Zohar’s head snapped up, his body pushing his chair back. “No. I’m going out to check the perimeter in case Jermaine and his men have decided to come back.”
Danko shook his head. “Kovak has already done a sweep. It’s all clear.”
“Then I’ll do another sweep. It’s better to be safe than sorry. We don’t want to be taken by surprise and I won’t place the Pack in any further danger, not while I’m acting Alpha.”
Zohar rose quickly and without another word, left by the back door. He told himself the reason he was going was because it was his duty to keep these people safe. It had nothing to do with the hunger inside him . . . or the fact he didn’t want to witness Maisy’s grief again. Nor his inclination to go to her when he saw her sobbing earlier. No. It was all about his duty as acting Alpha, that was all.
That’s what he told himself, again and again, even as he transformed and stampeded through the forest like a raging bull, with every step taking him farther away from the camp his heart almost bursting in his chest. The pain growing so severe he threw his head back and howled to the sky, sending every living thing around running in terror from the out-of-control Wolf.
His insides afire with emotions he couldn’t even put a name to far less understand. Zohar had been an Enforcer for more years than he cared to remember, most of the time the only feeling he required was cold detachment, with fury thrown in on occasion when the situation merited it. That’s how he lived his life, that’s how he knew how to live, anything else was alien to him and he sure as hell had no idea what was going on inside him now.
His beast wasn’t helping. In fact, it seemed hell-bent on making matters more difficult. Zohar refused to listen to his Wolf’s pleas, shutting out his beast’s voice, and forcing his paws onward to run through the forest at speeds that other Shifters only dreamed of.
His size and strength were what made him the number one Enforcer but that wasn’t all that was required to hit that top spot. Zohar had to detach himself from the actions he’d had to carry out over the years, the things he’d done haunted him in his dreams, sometimes following him from the darkness of night into the daylight. That seemed to be happening more and more lately, forcing him to consider whether he needed to walk away now . . . or be in danger of losing his sanity.
That was for another day. Right now, all he needed to do was run and shake off these damn feelings that were invading his body, his mind, and his very soul. He had a job to do and whenever he was on a mission he never allowed anything to stand in the way of getting the task at hand done. Never.
On no occasion had he failed to deliver, and he wasn’t about to do so now. Zohar would
