Pride's Pursuit (a Wolf's Pride novel, book three) (9 page)

“Sandyneeds food and sleep,” I announce, and while there are so many things Idon’t know
about my father’s motives,I do get the sense that he’s trying to do right by me. I still have no
idea what suddenly prompted him to change his ways, but I understand he is trying to right his
wrongs and forge some sort of father daughter relationship between the two of us.What I don’t
know, of course, is why now.
His voice is uncertain, his eyes so sad and regretful when he asks, “So you’re going to be
okay going back to my place in the hills?” that it has me craving to claw back the years we lost,
has me aching for my mother’s comfort.
I miss her so much.
I miss her touch, her scent, the way she always made me feel safe even when I knew we
weren’t. As my chest fills with heartache, I swipe at my eyes and turn from my father, not
wanting him to see any weakness in me as I think about the family I lost.
I know I made the hard decision to try to better understand him, to learn from the man
whose blood runs through my veins, but as I think about stepping into the mansion where my
father once imprisoned wolves, to come face to face with the things he’s done to our kind, I’m
suddenly not so sure that I’ll ever be okay again.

A tremor moves through me as my father drives the vehicle along the winding driveway
leading to his mansion. I briefly shut my eyes and when I open them again, I glance over my
shoulderto catch one last glimpse of the world I’m leaving behind, and try to fight the strange
sense that I’ll never see it again.

An ominous feeling settles in the pit of my stomach as the heavy metal gate clangs shut
behind us. The site is so hauntingly familiar that it brings back horrific memories of my dark
days in captivity.

Beside me, Stone squeezes my hand tighter, and even though I keep my expression blank,
vacant, he’s still fully aware of the knot weaving itself tighter and tighter in my stomach.
“
It’s going to be okay
,” he whispers inside my head, but from the tension in his body, I
know his stress levels are every bit as high as mine.
Floodlights ignite the compound and bathe the huge expanse of lush, green lawn in artificial
brightness. When I get my first real look at the impressive house where my father once kept
wolves under his strict command I suddenly feel a little nauseous, a little overwhelmed.
As my mind shifts and sorts through this unexpected turn, mental images of all the cruelties
that took place in this compound play out inmy mind’s eye. Working to push down my
emotions in an effort to keep all my wits about me, I draw in a fortifying breath to calm myself.
But then I think about the first time Logan saw my battle scarred body and I remember what he
said. His master wasn’t cruel like mine.
As that last thought settles me slightly, and gives me a modicum of hope that deep inside
my father has redeeming qualities, I canvass the perimeter and wonder if the high voltage gate
locking the world out—and us in—is powered with electricity. If we have to get out in a hurry,
will we all be electrocuted?
With old habits dying hard, I mentally catalogue the area, and search for an escape route.
While I believe my father is trying to change his ways, and isn’t out to harm us, it still doesn’t
stop me from approaching this change of plans with caution.
He parks at the top of the twisting driveway and after he slams the SUV into park, we all
pile out and wait for my father to make the next move. A bird takes to the sky as he circles the
vehicle to meet us on the cobblestone walkway leading to the front door. I breathe deep and
catch the sweet scent of berries on the breeze. The familiar aroma elicits a shiver from deep
inside me.
Looking tired, weather-beaten, and emotionally battered, my father’s shoulders slump
slightly when he announces, “There are enough bedrooms upstairs for everyone. Take your pick.
We can talk in the morning after everyone is rested.”
With that my father steps ahead of us all, and we following him to the front entrance where
he punches in a code to open the door. I listen to the beeps and commit the numbers to memory.
Idon’t miss the concentration on Stone’s face, an indication that he is doing the same. Pushing
past our fears, we all step inside.
Even though I’m tired, my body craving sleep, and my knees so weak they simply want to
collapse beneath me,I know I’ll never be able to settle myself down. I step farther into the
foyer, my boots sliding over the polished marble floor as I take in the opulence of his estate.
“Alexander, is that you?” a male voice booms from the near vicinity.
I stiffen as a big, burly man approaches from the east wing, his beefy hand hovering over
his gun as he carefully assesses us, stopping to size up each and every intruder. I shift my
stance, and when I feel the gun I now possess scraping along my spine, it gives me a measure of
comfort.
Once his inspection is complete he steps up to my father, and I take a moment to think
about the name Alexander. I haven’t heard my father’s first name in so long that I’d almost
forgotten he has one, almost forgot what it means. Defender of men. Too badhe’s never lived
up to it.
“What’s going on here?” the guard asks, his booming voice echoing off the high ceilings
and walls.
My father holds one hand up to calm the man I can only assume is his guard.“Everything is
fine.We’re all going to get some sleep and we’ll talk in the morning.”
The guard backs down and nods. My father turns to us, and gestures toward the staircase.
“Go get yourselves settled in.”
All eyes turn on me, waiting for me to make the next move. Since I know we have no other
option, I give a quick nod of consent and we all tromp up the stairs. My stomach is a bundle of
nerves and I wait until every one finds a bed before I slip into the last room at the end of the
hall. I quickly close the door behind me, needing to be alone to get my thoughts together.
I simply stand there for a long time, waiting, listening, but for what I don’t know. I flick the
light on, and walk the room, committing every piece of furniture, every obstacle and escape
route to memory.
The silence in the house is almost deafening as I run my fingers over the wood dresser, the
antique rocking chair in the corner, and the nightstand. When I step up to the bed, feel the lace
on the bedspread, and take in the soft pastel color on the wall, I realize the room has a woman’s
touch. Did my father mate with someone after losing my mother, or is this simply the work of a
caring housekeeper?
That last thought has me thinking of Mica, and for the first time in a long time a smile
touches my mouth.She was always so kind to me, and if it wasn’t for her I might never have
made it to the master’s dungeon to get the key that helped free us all. My heart aches to know
that after all these years she is finally going to be free of the master’s control and reunited with
her family.
I remove the gun from my waistband, tuck it under my mattress and fling myself onto the
bed, taking care to keep my dirty boots off the pretty covering. As I think about Mario and the
others who helped me win the battle against our cruel master, a myriad of emotions erupt inside
me. I stare at the stark white ceiling overhead, but I don’t take pleasure in the soft mattress
beneath me. The last thing I want to do is get too comfortable in this place.
Feeling restless, I turn on my side, and that’s when I hear voices coming from the
ventilation system.I listen, but can’t make out the words, but there is no mistaking the angry
voice of Logan ringing hollowly through the pipes.
I climb from my bed and tiptoe
)
across the floor to put my ear near the plastic slats. When I
angle my head, I find myself staring at an antique nightstand, and there is something sticking out
of the back edge of the drawer, some sort of picture that, judging by the yellowing corner, looks
like it’s been jammed in there for years, missing and forgotten.
Curiosity piqued, I crawl across the floor, carefully pull the nightstand away from the wall,
and give a tug on the drawer to loosen whatever it is lodged in the back.
I carefully grip the corner of the picture and jiggle it back and forth until I loosen it. When I
finally manage to free it, it slips from my hands and falls to the floor. I suck in a sharp breath
and stare at the image for a long time, almost afraid to touch it. But when I finally reach for it,
there is nothing I can do to stop the big hiccupping sob clawing its way out of my throat. I
tentatively run my finger over the captured image of a very young, very pretty woman, one with
a sad yet serious look on her face. When I flip it over and see the name Abigail scrawled on the
back, along with a date, my heart turns over in my chest.
How? Why?
I consider the photo of my mother longer and as I wonder about the day it was taken, a
million questions race through my mind. Was the picture taken before or after the master
captured her and tossed her into the basement to live a life of confinement? Had my father
picked her to be a part of his world because he loved her, or did he fall in love with her after
he’d picked her?
What did my mother really know about him?
Remembering my mother has my chest squeezing in heartache, and my eyes filling with
water. When my vision blurs, I drop the photoand pull my hands back like they’ve been burned,
then look at my closed door. Feeling suddenly confused, and in desperate need of fresh air, I
tiptoe across the wood floor, inch open my door and listen for sound. With no one moving
about, I creep from the room, retrace my steps down the stairs, and punch in the code to the
front door.
I rush outside, run away from the monstrous mansion, and suck in a huge breath and hold it
until my lungs hurt. When I begin to feel lightheaded, I finally exhale and draw in quick sipping
breaths to fuel my blood.That’s when I catch the fragrant aroma of flowers. I scent the air for
danger, and when I find none, I circle the mansion.
When I reach the back of the estate, instead of finding an obstacle course housed inside an
imprisoned courtyard, I find a lush flower garden, and when I sink to my knees I suddenly feel
so very tired, physically and emotionally.
When a dark shiver pulses in my blood, all I want to do is forget. Forget about those I’ve
loved and lost. Forget about my failed mission to find the others, to stop the PTF. Forget about
how much I’ve hurt the two boys who care so deeply for me.
But since it’s not in my nature to forget, I pull the sweet perfume into my lungs, and let the
memories flood me until I feel like I’m drowning.
But then another smell hits me from behind, pulling my thoughts to the present. I listen to
the quiet approach, fully aware of his presence before he speaks.
“
Hey
,” the voice inside my head says.
I look over my shoulder.“
What are you doing out here?
”
“
I could ask you the same
.”
I shrug.“
Couldn’t sleep
.”
“
Want some company?
”
“
Okay
,” I say, knowing we need to talk about what happened tonight, but not knowing
where to start.
Taking care not to crush any of the flowers, Stone hunkers down beside me and his warm
familiar scent curls around me and hugs my body like a tight sweater. After a long moment he
says, “I’m sorry, Pride.”
I look at him and my heart turns over in my chest when I see the sadness in his eyes.“Sorry
about what?”
“For not catching up with Nova,” he replies soberly.
There is a new darkness in his eyes and I feel a quiver move through me.“What would you
have done if you caught her?” I ask tentatively, a little worried about his answer.
“I would have killed her.” His words are delivered with such cold calculation it twists my
heart and has fear shooting through me.
“You can’t do that, Stone. You can’t go around killing people.”
“She threatened you, Pride.And that gives me every right to kill her.”
I fist my hands until my nails bite into my skinand feel almost frantic when I say, “No. She
made a mistake and I don’t want anyone else to die. Not because of me.”
“Her mistake was falling for Logan,” he says, his voice holding a degree of anger, but there
is no hardness in his eyes when he touches my chin and tilts my face until we’re eye to eye.
“But I guess we all make mistakes, and we don’t always make rational choices when we’re in
love.” He gives ahumorless smile and adds, “Now that’s something Nova and I have in
common.”
“Nova wanted to kill me to be with Logan,” I say and before he can stop me I push my way
into his mind, wondering if he’d go so far where Logan and I are concerned.
I take a moment to process his thoughts, then my eyes widen, unease seeping from my
every pore.“Stone,” I choke out. “You can’t just—”
“The master should have let me and Logan finish that fight.One day we’ll have to, you
know.”
My heart pounds and I shake my head so hard, my hair flares around my face.“No. That
can’t happen.”
“We can’t have two alphas in the pack,Pride.”
I swallow, because I know he’s right and I also know the tension between the two is
escalating, and if something or someone doesn’t give soon, one of them is going to die.
Since I can’t bring myself to think about that anymore, can’t consider how much Stone
would like to remove Logan from the equation, I redirect the conversation.
“Tonight,” I begin. “At the cabin. You have to stop reacting where I’m concerned. It’s
different out here. We need to work together.It’s not about protecting one person at the cost of
everyone else.” I reach for a blade of grass and my hair falls into my eyes as I run it over my
lips.“What you did tonight, throwing yourself at that officer,it could have…it could have been
bad in so many ways, Stone.” I pull my knees up to my chest and try to find the right words. I
look everywhere and anywhere, unable to meet his eyes, unable to deal with the sadness I see on
his face.“I understand why you did it, but out here things are done differently.I’m going to help
guide you, help you change”
“Pride,” he says, cutting me off. I turn to him and he brushes my hair from my face until my
eyes are uncovered…until my raw feelings are exposed. His glance isn’t apologetic when he
says, “I don’t want to change.”
I open my mouth to voice an argument, but stop when he jumps to his feet.“This is who I
am,” he hurries out, and I see a flash of possessiveness on his face as he begins to pace.“All I
want to do is protect you.” He stops abruptly, adjusts his footing and grabs my hands to haul me
to my feet. When my body collides with his, he stands over me. Silence ensues as he looks at me
with dark eyes that reveal his every emotion.
He finally breaks the quiet by saying, “It’s all I ever wanted.” He touches a strand of my
hair, and I suck in air when his warm knuckles brush along my face.“Is that so wrong, Pride?”
As I weigh his words carefully, my anger melts and I swallow hard.Life’s events have
shaped him into who he is and how he reacts,and while I know his thoughts and actions aren’t
really wrong,I also know they’re not quite right either. But how is any of that his fault?
He moves inside my head, the connection between us tremendous as he pulls me impossibly
closer, his hands crushing my hair.“
Pride
,” he whispers. “
All I want to do is take care of you
.”
A low moan that sounds more wolf than girl ripples in my throat. I struggle to keep myself
together when I say, “
And that’s the problem Stone
.”
“
Why
?” he asks.“
Why is that so wrong
?”
“
Because our world is changing and we’re part of a bigger picture. We all have to take
care of each other.You’re wearing blinders when it comes to me and I’m afraid your tunnel
vision is going to get you, or someone else, killed
.”
The dark shadows under his eyes deepen and he makes a deep animal sound full of need
when he counters with,“
If I have to die, then I’d gladly die for you