The man’s lips thinned down to a hard line. “I just thank fuck there’s been no other kids dragged into this. It’s fucking cruel, making you boys wear the sins of your mother.”
Mason thrummed like a struck string, energy pulsing through him. His beast was still unpredictable, right on the surface sometimes, not to be seen at others, but with each breath he took, he felt his wolf stretch within him, imbue his limbs with preternatural strength, readying him.
Your mother’s a slut. He’d heard it so often, it barely got a reaction from him anymore. Well, unless Zack was with him. Explaining what that word meant in a way that made sense to a kid was seriously fucking awkward, but this… All those alphas’ sons who seemed to arrow in on him the moment he came to town, those posses of bullies who had him in their sights on the first day of school. His mother drinking herself into oblivion instead of… Those kids’ hands around Zack. When he looked back into Bruce’s eyes, he saw the firm adult mask falter and something much more honest seep through, something terrifying.
“No.” Bruce heard his denial but nothing changed in his demeanour, which just made it all hit harder. “NO!”
I saw the dark wolf shape come together from the shadows on the wall as Mason fought his beast, a low hum buzzing in my ear. But it was a war that was never going to be won. Dark fur prickled over his skin, and Bruce frowned at the sight of it, watching Mase flicker between forms.
“Do we have a problem?”
The alpha came through the doorway bare chested, and to Mason, he moved as if in slow motion, the man’s hands going to his waistband, buttoning up and zipping his pants. Mason’s eyes darted up, saw for a brief second a bacchanal of naked bodies before the door clicked shut.
“Bruce?”
Right then, the alpha wasn’t a man that Mason had met today, wasn’t the power figure they had to placate to find another pack to live in. Another where the boys in the town would get in his face, describing all the shit they knew his mother did. And they’d be right, he only just realised, feeling like a fucking idiot. Another town where Zack would be a target because he was smaller and younger than Mason and hadn’t yet learned to fight. Another town where his mother would drink herself into a stupor, not for the whole day as he thought, but whenever she wasn’t here, servicing the enforcers, paying the rent for their continued existence. His claws burst from his fingertips, his fangs snicking down at the ready, his whole body tensed and ready to strike.
Not yet, not this time… a voice said in his head, and I saw Ulfric emerge from the shadows to stand between Mason and the alpha, looking down at him with a combination of determination and pity. The fight will come, but not yet.
“You better back down, boy,” the alpha snarled, the whiplash of his dominance felt on Mason’s skin. “Put your claws and your fangs away before I take them from you.”
The weight of the alpha’s will pulsed, slamming down upon him, the man smiling when Mason was forced back.
“That’s right, little whore’s boy. Back down from your betters. Now run away back to the playroom with the other children.” The man’s eyes narrowed when Mason held his ground. “RUN!”
Run! Ulfric echoed, the compulsion slamming into Mason, his shift into his animal instantaneous, followed by the frantic scrabble of paws on a smooth floor. He careened down the hall, out into the living area, slammed into the open door before emerging out into the sunlight. He didn’t think, look, or identify a direction, just bolted down main street, past cars and people, past shops, the houses, the fields. Run, run, run! The need pulsed through him, pounded like his heart, carrying him farther and farther away.
I could hear my own heartbeat racing in time with his as the darkness fell again. For a moment, that’s all there was—my pulse, my pain at watching what had happened to Mase and Zack, at what had happened to their mother. Some of what the Spehrs did made some sense now. That skin crawling scene with Kailee… Alphas always prepared their daughters for their role in the pack, but what the fuck were they preparing her for? Mine hemmed me in, made sure I adhered to all the rules, ignored what I was, and so the town followed their lead. But too bad if it crushed me during the process.
Which is perhaps why the next memory surfaced.
An older Mason watched a ten-year-old me stomp down the stairs at home, tearing at the voile or chiffon or whatever the fuck had been embellished all over the stupid damn dress Nance had made me wear. He’d been living with us for a while now, Dad having found him out in the forest, bringing him home, feeding him, starting to train him. Mason was on patrol, while a family function was being held in the big ballroom at the back of the house. He watched me get to the bottom, clumps of shredded fabric littering the steps, when the tears started.
I remembered this. Nance had ripped into me, off to one side of the party, away from all the other adults. Critiqued the way I wore the dress, my hair, my behaviour. She cut me down with short, sharp, precise words, made me feel like nothing, before turning and being all smiles when one of the town elders appeared. She’d tucked her arm in his and walking away, as if she hadn’t just destroyed me.
Mason watched me shred the dress. By tearing off the stupid frills and stupid flounces, by letting them fall onto the floor, just leaving them there as a trail of destruction, I got my
