Dawn's Shelter

"I am Nash, master of this pack." He studied the woman, admiring her calm façade. She hid the weight of her worries behind a neatly coiffed, expensive exterior. She held herself with an air of composure, straight spine, her shoulders thrown back, and head thrust high. But, she couldn't hide what her green eyes gave away as she looked up at him with trepidation. The fear behind them that tinted the emerald green irises and blew her pupils wide into bottomless black depths.

"Eloise, mistress of South Texas." She tightened her hand into a fist around the leather strap of her handbag. Refusing to offer her hand in greeting. She lowered her eyes to the fingers that encircled her arm in silent demand that he release her.

Nash removed his hand. "Please, join me in the study. We have much to discuss," he said.

Eloise tipped her head and licked her dry lips in nervous anticipation. Watching as his intense stare focused on the tip of her tongue. Evaluating the demand hidden behind his request, she paused. Eloise didn't like being pushed around. She'd been pushed her whole life. Meeting demands in the name of duty and honor. She didn't like not having options. And she had none. Cooperation might give her access to what she wanted most. Her daughter.

Nash stood silently, maintaining an air of patience as she thought things over. Forcing his attention away from her lush mouth and onto the task at hand, he was careful not to push too hard. A woman like her had to be handled carefully. She was as volatile as a power keg. He had her in a dangerous situation. Backed into a corner with no way out.

The situation was every bit as volatile as the woman. Thomas was in deep shit. The future of his pack was at risk. And he needed answers. The only way he was going to get them was to convince Eloise to cooperate and tell him what he needed to know. He cocked an eyebrow at her. Patience was never something he could maintain for very long.

Eloise liked making him wait for her answer. She considered making him ask twice as a small victory. She didn't like being out of control and at the mercy of others, especially a man. She had every intention of cooperating, a little, enough to get what she wanted. Coyly, her lips curled into a grin and she tipped her head in acceptance to his request. Her heels clicked softly against the floor as she walked, not submissively behind him, but to his right, as a leader should, shoulder to shoulder.

Chapter 25

Kacie lagged behind. Pretending to casually meander through the labyrinth of halls, twists, and turns. Memorizing her footsteps as best she could. Getting out of here wasn't going to be an easy task. Security was tight. Cameras were discreetly mounted along the ceiling. Doors were locked from prying eyes. And the long corridors went on and on and on. She slipped her cell phone out of her jacket pocket, tucking it away with a grunt. As she thought, she had no signal this far underground. She was unarmed and very stuck. She'd gotten out of the SUV been herded into the compound and just as quickly and efficiently forgotten about. When she came to the intersection of corridors, instead of following everybody else. She'd managed to slip away, in the opposite direction.

Tristen had the sense that Kacie always tried to be one step ahead of the game. Plan for the unknown. Sometimes, that wasn't possible. Frustration radiated off of her in waves. The smell of it tinged the air with an acrid scent. She was rattled and frightened, even angry. He followed behind, keeping out of sight. Letting her wander aimlessly through the maze of corridors, he was curious about what she was looking for or where she thought she was going to go.

Thomas locked the door to his room. Shutting the world out and locking him in with Jan, they were alone at last. The food on the tray didn't appeal to him in the least. She ate not one bite of it. The tray was a sloppy mess of melted ice cream, sticky pop, and damp M&Ms. He set the tray down and forgot about it. Slipping an arm around her waist as pulled her down with him onto the bed. Nuzzling into his favorite space at the bend of her graceful neck, he breathed her in. The digital clock counted down the minutes annoyingly. A bitter reminder of how much time he had left. There wasn't much. He wrapped his fingers around a sleek pillowcase, tossing the pillow at the clock. The clock fell to the floor with a clatter of broken plastic. He didn't care. When it was time someone would come and get him.

"Thomas..." His lips pressed against her mouth, stilling them with a sweet, desperate kiss. She slicked her hands over his hair. Feeling the sleek texture with her fingers. Her body responded to his demanding kiss despite her emotionally charged state and the hopeless of the situation she had gotten them into.

"No words. Not now. Just let me hold you," Thomas said. He didn't want anything to spoil the time they had left. He had no plan. No great tricks hidden up his sleeve. He would go to the bluffs when the time came and hope that he could pull a miracle out of his ass. What else could he really do? Talking about what was going to happen really wouldn't change the outcome. It would accomplish nothing but spoiling the precious time they had left together.

He adjusted her limbs, fitting her body tightly against his. Curve pressed to hard plane. His chin on her shoulder, and nose buried in the silky lengths of her sleek raven's wing hair. Listening to her rhythmic breathing. His heart beat, in sync with hers. In his head, he heard the clock ticking, marking each second. Forcing doubt and fear out of his mind, he focused on what he had right now, in front of him, instead of what he was going to lose in just a few brief hours.

Jan relaxed into Thomas's arms. She wanted to cry. She wanted to beg him to change his mind. She reviewed her plan over and over again. She could not fail. Seconds would count when the time came. She didn't know what the consequences of her actions would be. Only the outcome mattered. Thomas would be safe.

Eloise was led into a room heavily paneled with dark, richly hued wooden panels. The rug beneath her feet was luxurious, deep and plush, vibrantly colored. The furniture was tasteful. Sleek leather bound couches and wingback chairs were scattered about the room. A fire burned cheerfully in a natural stone hearth occupying one entire wall. The desk at the far end of the room was the focal point of the room. Ornately carved, polished to a brilliant sheen, the desk was where decisions were made and lives changed. Books lined floor to ceiling shelves on the remaining walls. The lighting was dim, yet warm and inviting, almost intimate. If it weren't for the men filling the seats and the cause for their being in the room, she'd call the atmosphere cozy.

"Would you like something?" Nash asked as he guided Eloise to a mocha colored leather bound chair to the left of the fireplace. He walked to a silver cart neatly nestled into a corner. Anna always thought of everything. She'd loaded the cart with drinks, an urn of hot coffee, and freshly baked, decadent treats. But, she wasn't willing to risk the fine bone china to a bunch of agitated wolves. He plucked a paper cup off the stack. "Coffee?"

"Please." Eloise shifted in her seat and crossed her legs at the ankles. Her gaze surveyed the men seated around the room. She took the hot, steaming cup of black coffee from Nash, tipping her head in thanks. Following him with her eyes, she took a sip of the rich, bitter drink. "You wish to speak with me?"

"Straight to the point. Very well." Drew sat next to the fireplace, trying to speculate Eloise's angle. She sat on the very edge of the wingback chair across from him. Daintily sipping from a paper cup as if she were a debutante. Tala occupied the seat beside him, to his right. He was grateful for her. He was not the most social person and had little consideration for the effect his words sometimes had. He relied on her to smooth the feathers he often ruffled.

"Introductions would be nice." Tala butted in before her husband could talk himself and the pack into even more hot water. "I'm Tala. Drew's wife." She got out of her seat and crossed the room, extending her hand to Eloise.

Eloise politely took Tala's petite hand in hers and gave her fingers an obligatory shake. The woman was a tiny thing, barely five feet tall. No bigger around than a matchstick. But, she carried herself with a regal air. As if she were ruler of all she surveyed. Eloise hadn't missed the way the men shifted in their seats. Muscles tensed, ready for action as Tala approached her. Protective of their queen, Eloise guessed.

Drew filled the chair with his bulk of muscle and long legs. Eloise saw that he was not armed. He didn't need the threat of weapons. She had no doubt of the amount of damage he could inflict with his powerful hands. His eyes were sharp as they returned her stare, piercing straight through her. He had abandoned his leather gear and was dressed casually in black denim and a black mock turtleneck. He was powerful and menacing, and dangerous.

He and Tala were more than they appeared. At first glance, and sniff, Eloise would have guessed them as wolves. But, upon further inspection, something was off about the couple. She smelled wolf, but also something else, something powerful and dangerous, hidden beneath the earthen scent and tanned skin.

Tala smiled and returned to her seat. Further explaining her relationship to the people in the room, she motioned to the men seated on the couch. "Grant and Hunter, my brothers. And of course, you've met my father, Nash."

Eloise nodded, taking in the men. Despite the similarities of their looks, they were as different as night and day. Hunter wore his black hair short, in a military style cut. Dressed in black combat fatigues, he didn't bother to hide the weaponry strapped to his hip and across his back. Grant was more subtle, hair tangled loosely around his collar. Dressed in simple denim jeans and a navy blue chambray button down that did nothing to hide his massive bulk. No weaponry was visible. But, she knew he was armed.

Amongst the assembly she had difficulty determining which one was the true alpha. Nash was a leader. But, he sat calmly. Looking to Drew to take the lead. Drew sat quietly, gently running his thumb over Tala's wrist. As if they were communicating in a secret code only they understood. Alpha radiated from the males seated on the couch as well. But, they said not one word. She knew of only one way to really find out exactly whom she needed to be talking to, and that was to ask. "Nash, are you the master of this pack or not?"

"Yes and no," Nash answered truthfully. He was the pack master. He'd been an ambitious young wolf when he fought his father to the death for the right to the title. Back then, in the dark days, losing meant death. His gaze slid over the curiously cocked brow aimed in his direction.

"That's cryptic." Eloise huffed, "And not very helpful." She toyed with the empty cup in her hands, waiting for him to elaborate.

Drew spoke up. "My brother founded our race. He was the original Great White Wolf. And I believe beyond any shadow of a doubt. He was the origin of your pack as well. When he was killed defending the spirit world from a Windigo attack, I took over as Supreme Pack Master after his death. I leave most of the day-to-day dealings that go on within the pack up to Nash. I only intervene when necessary."

Eloise leveled her gaze to meet Drew's. "I suppose now is one of those necessary times."

Drew nodded, "Unfortunately, it is."

"I know nothing of a spirit world nor of our mysterious origins. We have traditions and folklore. But, they're just stories, legends to be told. I answer to no one. No matter how elaborate their title may be." She lifted her chin defiantly. "I am pack mistress. And my pack is in danger. Unless Torr gets what he wants, so is yours."

"And that might be?" Drew asked. He was curious about this lost branch of his family tree. Someday, he'd ask her about the legends of her pack. Not even he himself knew the whole story of his brother's secret past. Nana had helped the best she could to put the pieces together. She was the only surviving daughter of his brother's left alive. The Pack, much like the brotherhood, far to often met violent ends or died of their own diminished will to live.

"Breeding rights to my daughter. I truly regret that it has to be this way for Jan. But, it's how our pack maintains order. Strong breeds with strong. Genetic lines are carefully monitored for purity and integrity. My daughter is the product of decades of genetic engineering. As a firstborn, she is expected to go home and do her duty to the pack. She was promised to Torr as a child."

"You use your children to acquire wealth and position within your pack?" Grant asked in disbelief. His pack cherished their children. Everyone parented the young. He could not imagine selling rights to his precious son, GT, for climbing up a few rungs on the pack ladder.

"In a manner of speaking, yes." Eloise hid her nervousness behind a cool façade. What kind of monster must they think she was to broker off her daughter? They didn't understand the world she came from no more than she understood theirs.

Nash cleared his throat. Commanding Grant to shut up before things escalated. "We encourage our wolves to mate within the pack as well. Although we have no law against selecting a mate from any species."

"Your pack permits breeding between human and wolf? How can you permit the resulting halflings to exist?" Eloise wrinkled her nose in distaste. Halflings were too weak to survive in their world. Their DNA too corrupted to risk propagation.

Grant stiffened in his chair and growled low in his throat. The look of disgust on the woman's face when she disdainfully labeled his son as a 'halfling' enraged him.

"Enough!" Drew slammed his fist into the padded arm of the chair. The blow sent a fluff of stuffing into the air from the split in the leather upholstery. He took a breath and calmed himself. Rather, Tala's firm grip on his wrist, almost painfully tight, did the calming for him. "We're not here to discuss the particulars of breeding practices or the morality of those ideations. We're here to discuss the problem at hand. One of our own is in danger and our position has been compromised. In my opinion, that presents a greater problem than pack genetics.

"Eloise, we must know exactly what kind of threat we face," Drew said. He made a feeble attempt at poking stuffing back into the split arm of the chair with a finger. Chris and Anna were going to string him up for demolishing yet another piece of furniture. Sometimes, he wished he still lived in the dark, dank limestone caves beneath the bluffs. Or out in the hilly valleys surrounding the compound. Sleeping under the open sky, there was nothing like it. There was no furniture to break. No creature comforts to worry about, only rock, darkness, or when the mood struck him the blissful solitude of the woods. "Will Torr withdraw from the fight?"

"No. Not unless Jan fulfills her end of the agreement, maybe, not even then. His honor was deeply wounded when she chose a human over him."

"If she refuses to go with him?" Nash asked.

"Then your human is a dead man," Eloise answered simply. She looked around the posh room with sincere appreciation. "You have a good thing going here. If Jan does not return, you risk it all. Is protecting one female from her destiny worth that to you?"

Eloise narrowed her eyes, taking in the faces around her. "I don't understand what kind of preternatural beings live here or how they live harmoniously with the wolves. But, if you want to protect the peace you've worked so hard to acquire. You'll hand her over to me. Let me convince her to stop this ridiculous pursuit and return home. I'm not speaking lightly when I tell you, more wolves are on the way and they'll go to any lengths necessary to get her back."

"You're threatening war," Drew said.

"Not threatening. Promising it. I only wish to take my daughter home and leave you in peace. War is not a certainty. If I can produce my daughter, it won't come to that. The pack will stay in Texas where they belong and you can return to your lives. Everyone wins."

"Except for Jan and Thomas," Grant interjected. He owed Thomas a great deal. Without Thomas's skills as a physician, Claire would have died in childbirth. He didn't necessarily consider Thomas a friend. But, he always repaid his debts. Even if it meant protecting Thomas's life with his own, he was duty bound to do so.

"Allow me to speak to my daughter. At least try to secure her agreement to return home in exchange for Thomas's life. After I've spoken with her, I'll present the arrangement to Torr and try to ensure his cooperation. That's really all I have to offer you. I regret that it isn't more. You have to believe me when I tell you, without her I've got no other card left to play. Torr's father is dangerous and deadly. I'm the least of your problems. In fact, I'm trying to protect you. If he comes for her, he won't stop with getting her back. Once he finds out about you...about all this...he won't leave without a fight."

"Make no mistake about our intentions, Eloise. We will not hand Thomas over to be slaughtered. If he chooses to fight we will not intervene. But, if he asks for our protection, we will gladly offer it. The same goes for Jan. If she chooses to remain here we will offer her sanctuary for as long as she requests it." Drew's eyes locked with Eloise's, seeking out the truth hidden in their depths and pleading with her to see the truth in his. "Eloise, my offer for asylum is not limited to Jan and Thomas. You and Kacie, your omegas, are welcome here as well. Indefinitely, if you like."

"My omegas? You haven't harmed them have you?"

"Of course not." Drew waved her concern off dismissively. "I have a tracker on them, nothing more. I won't make a move against them. My people are peaceful. We don't strike out in mindless aggression. We only defend ourselves when necessary."

Eloise sighed and rose to her feet. Considering his statement, she said, "That may be your downfall." She crossed the room and tossed her empty cup in the trash. Feeling the sets of eyes on her as she headed for the door. As far as she was concerned, the meeting was adjourned. What more did they possibly have to discuss?

Drew followed Eloise with his eyes as Nash escorted her from the room. He turned to stare into the roaring fire as the room cleared of people. Idly fiddling with the tufts of stuffing that poked up out of the arm of his chair and lost in a private universe of thought, he played all possible scenarios over and over in his mind. The final outcome, he could not predict. What would his brother do? That answer was easy. Fight to the death for what was right. It was the same thing the brothers and pack would do. And the same thing he'd always done.

He'd already died once. In many ways death was easy. Life was hard. Tala rested a gentle hand on his shoulders. Her fingertips gently toyed with the strands of his hair that had escaped his ponytail. "I promised you a good life."

Tala smiled and kissed the top of Drew's head. Their path had not been an easy one and it most likely never would be. She'd known that when she agreed to be his wife. Drew was quiet and contemplative. Lost in a world of his own as he stared into the dancing flames of the fire. She didn't have to ask what he was thinking. He wasn't strategizing. He was thinking on life, on death, and on the unforeseeable future that hinged on his decisions. "And you have lived up to that promise."

Drew heaved a sigh and wrapped an arm around Tala's waist as she sat down on the arm of the chair. He rested his head against the soft warmth of her thigh. Closing his eyes against the comfort of the rhythmic stroking of her fingers through his hair. This was how he'd always imagined growing old. A good woman by his side, a roaring fire on the hearth, surrounded by family and friends, living out his last days in peace and comfort. He wasn't going to get old anytime soon. If he lived long enough to truly grow old at all. Every time he thought peace was within his grasp. Something happened to tear it beyond his reach. The world had no shortage of bad guys. He supposed, it never would. And for that reason he had no choice but to live how he'd died and go out fighting the good fight.