Page 13

CHAPTER 12

J ace

W e found this old military bunker not long after The Tangle became our home. It’s served as our den ever since. Most of us assumed it would become our tomb, if we survived long enough.

But then the years dragged on, and we didn’t age. Settlements became cities. Those more human than animal huddled behind walls, scared of what lurked outside. Scared of the hybrids. Scared of The Tangle. Scared of us . So scared they ran us off, even when we tried to help.

We passed as humans for a while. Ex-military. Survivors of the Great War. We walked on two feet in the daylight, and didn’t give in to the call of the wild unless we were running on four paws in the moonlight.

Then the call was the only thing we knew. We were more comfortable in fur than the skin we were born in. Parts of our humanity drained out of us, a slow drip The Tangle gladly devoured. The things we enjoyed as men were no longer thrilling. No longer satisfying. We changed into something we barely recognized.

But we loved the way it made us feel, despite feeling like we had no future. Until she woke something up inside us. Now we’re just tortured. At least, I am. Gideon doesn’t seem to be as struck by it as he was when he first got her scent. I feel like I’m walking on the edge of a sharp blade with my dick so hard I can’t see straight.

“Put on some fucking pants,” I mutter, following Gideon into the lockers in the lower level of the bunker. “We don’t need any damn pants.”

“Yes, let’s frighten Calla’s friends more than they already are,” Vance says sarcastically, giving me a nudge before he opens a locker. “Your solution was to send them into The Tangle on their own? Really? You thought she’d go for that after everything we’ve seen.”

“She is our mate. They don’t matter,” I growl, yanking a locker open so hard it comes off the hinges. The metal clatters on the ground at my feet. “The quicker we breed her, the quicker we’ll be free of this… need .”

“I kind of like it. Makes me feel more alive than I have since we first started calling our wolves,” Gideon says, sliding on a pair of fatigues that protest when he tries to fasten them. “Shit, I guess I ate more than I realized while we were protecting Calla.”

“You’re a little taller, too,” Vance says. “I know we agreed there would be no leader after Silas, but you’re changing, Gideon. You’re becoming our Alpha. And I think Calla has something to do with that.”

“It’s too much meat,” Gideon sighs, opening a few more lockers before he finds a pair that will fit. “That’s all. I’m not trying to be the leader.”

“And I don’t care if he puts on a few pounds or is twice my size,” I grumble, sliding on my pants and fastening them. “We make our decisions as a pack, just like we agreed.”

“I know you two don’t believe in the things Edward and Zane did, but I’ve studied their research. Whether you want to accept it or not, the natural hierarchy is already emerging.” Vance takes a step toward me and smiles. “When was the last time Gideon could restrain you by putting his arm across your chest? I remember a time when you would have bitten it off to get to your prey.”

“Fuck you,” I mutter. “I’ve accepted that despite being able to shift, we’re nothing but animals now. Beasts driven by instincts, because of the genetic experiments. Those instincts are doing this to us, because Calla is different. What she is, I don’t know. My guess? Someone in her family was part of the same experiments we were. The scientists were trying to engineer mates we could breed with, before everything went to shit.”

“Yes, I remember,” Vance says. “But they were never successful, were they? Every woman they shoved in a room with us. Not one of them ever got pregnant. Even after they started trying to do it artificially. Even when they tried with the Gen-Wolves. The embryos died in the dish. Thankfully, they never got to try what they had planned next. Mating us with our own damn sisters.”

“I would have never done that.” I shake my head angrily. “It’s not fate, Vance. It’s just what we are now. I don’t need to understand it to know I’ve got her scent. When you finally catch it, you won’t give a damn about the reason either.”

I clench my jaw. My skin’s too tight, my cock won’t settle, and the fucking smell of her is everywhere . I can already tell she’s made it down to this level of the bunker, wandering our den. If this is what fate feels like, it can burn in hell. Just like we’ll do, if The Tangle allows it after we’re gone.

But her scent is like a fucking drug. I breathe it in and forget how to hate the world, if only for a moment. I just want to taste.

“This bickering is getting us nowhere,” Gideon snaps. “We’ve got guests. Let’s see if we can remember how to be men for a little while. For their sake.”

We leave the locker room, and my claws threaten to punch through my skin. My vision tunnels. The need is a noose tightening around my fucking neck. Gideon won’t stop me. I’ll play this game and pretend, but Calla will be mine tonight. I’m going to rut her. Claim her. Mark her as mine. And I won’t be gentle.

Calla is like a beacon when we step into the main part of the lower level. Gorgeous blue eyes that radiate with curiosity, hesitation, and something else. Pretty blonde hair that is wild from her time in The Tangle. Just how it should be. I can still smell her arousal. It seems to thicken the air when the three of us approach.

The girls take a step back. The runt of the litter, as Vance calls her, huddles behind our mate. The older one—similar to Calla’s age—shoves another behind her. The last clutches a stick. There’s something different about her. A dark intention in her stare. Vance said she took three lives at The Outpost without blinking. That’s rather impressive for a girl raised in the safety of Haven North.

“Introduce us to your friends, Calla,” Gideon says calmly, but I can detect an edge in his tone. The need he can’t quite stifle, no matter how hard he tries. “I’m sure you’re hungry. Vance, why don’t you make some food for our guests?”

“Hope you like meat,” Vance chuckles, motioning toward the kitchen. “The fridge and freezer are on a back-up generator, so everything is fresh. This level was somewhat protected from the solar flare, and we’ve made some repairs. Not sure if the stove still works…” His voice trails off.

“We’re so hungry we’ll eat almost anything,” Calla says, then she turns to her friends, introducing them one by one.

Each girl nods when their name is called. They’re scared. That’s obvious. If the air wasn’t so thick with Calla’s scent, I could probably smell their fear. I don’t care enough to put their minds at ease. The only thing I want is what is mine.

Vance walks into the kitchen. I’m not interested in socializing, so I follow him. I never liked it when it was necessary for us to mingle with others. When we had to prove to the politicians and the billionaires funding the genetic research that we were worth tearing apart ethical obligations and emptying bank accounts.

“What do you think they would like best?” Vance asks, opening the fridge and peering inside. “Gen-Hen? Maybe some meat from one of the bigger hybrids? Boar? Bear?”

I lean against the wall and fold my arms across my chest. “As long as you’re not feeding them human meat, I don’t think they’ll care,” I grunt. “The humans we helped before they ran us off always liked Gen-Hen.”

“Gen-Hen it is then,” Vance says cheerfully, removing an ample supply from the fridge.

Fresh meat has been my preference since the first time we shifted and lost the taste for almost everything else. But finding it can be a challenge at times. Winters are harsh in The Tangle. A lot of hybrids hibernate. Most of the animals that flourished in nature before the heat storms have been hunted to extinction or mutated into sour beasts.

If we hadn’t gotten the generators to work in this bunker, we would have spent a lot of winters on the edge of starvation. It isn’t enough to kill us, but there’s only so much we can take before we go feral. Give in to the call of the wild permanently and lose every bit of humanity we have left.

“Ah, the stove still works!” Vance says as it lights up. “Now, if I can just remember how to cook…”

I grunt with frustration. Vance was never the cook, even before we shifted and no longer needed to worry about it. That was my job. “Get out of the way,” I mutter. “You can’t just throw the chicken in the pan. You need something to fry it with. Grab me a fatty strip of Gen-Boar and see what seasonings are in the cabinet. I need salt and pepper at a minimum. Some garlic would be good, too.”

Sometimes I’m still amazed by what is usable after two hundred years. The solar flare wiped out every bit of technology that wasn’t buried in bunkers like this. The heat storms brought droughts. The Tangle flourished, growing despite the dry decay all around it. I’m not even sure how far it stretches. For all we know, it could have covered most of the globe by now. Overrun everything that isn’t huddled behind steel.

“Salt still seems fine,” Vance says. “Pepper is stale. I wouldn’t put this garlic on anything.”

“Yeah, ground pepper is useless,” I growl, leaning to look over his shoulder. “Grab the peppercorns. I’ll grind a few of them and see if they’ll add some flavor.”

“Chef Jace is still there somewhere, huh?” Vance chuckles, grabbing the spices and putting them on the counter.

“Shut the fuck up,” I mutter.

I stir the Gen-Boar fat in the pan until it melts, then carefully place the Gen-Hen meat in the sizzling grease. Vance hums quietly while I prepare the food. The scent of cooked food starts to fill the bunker—rich, earthy, and familiar, but I don’t have a craving for it. The only thing I crave is her.

“Too bad we don’t have any flour or eggs,” Vance says. “Battered chicken was always better. Remember that place we used to love on the base? Popeye’s? They had the best biscuits…”

“Two hundred years of fresh kills and you’re still talking about fucking biscuits?” I can’t help but chuckle. “I can’t wait until you catch her scent. Maybe you’ll start acting normal for a change. Did you try talking to the garlic powder? Maybe it’ll spit out a few cloves if you ask nicely.”

“If you cared to listen, you might hear The Tangle whispering back sometimes,” Vance says. “And I told you what I saw when Calla put her hand near the lock. Her bracelet did that. The Tangle is more than angry plants and vines we can turn into medicine.”

“Right, sometimes the trees throw fucking grenades at you,” I mumble absently. “Grab some plates. It’s almost done.”

I prepare meals for our guests. Gen-Hen, seasoned as well as it can be, and seared to perfection. No sides, but there’s plenty of meat, even if they’re starving. I bring the plates into the dining area. Vance brings glasses of water from our reserves. Gideon already has the girls seated. I put plates in front of the others first, lingering behind Calla and savoring the heat radiating from her before leaning down.

“Soon,” I murmur into her ear. “Soon you will be mine.”

The other girls flash nervous glances toward Calla, but they don’t hear my words. Those are only for the one who’s mine. She’s the only one who matters.

“This smells so good I might have to fix a plate myself,” Gideon remarks, walking into the kitchen.

What the fuck is he doing? Showing off? Trying to make it look like he’s got more humanity inside him than beast? He’s got the same need coursing through his blood that I do, and some seasoned food isn’t going to scratch the itch that aches into our bones.

“So, Calla…” Vance says, sitting down and leaning forward. “You were a nurse in Haven North?”

“Yes… But how did you know?” she answers, groaning with satisfaction as she takes her first bite. “Jace, this is incredible. Wow!”

“I’m glad you like it,” I grind out, feeling a twinge that makes my heart skip a beat. What the fuck was that? It shouldn’t matter, but it does. I don’t like the way it feels. “It’s an old recipe…”

“She’s right, brother.” Gideon emerges from the kitchen, chewing a piece of Gen-Hen. “It’s delicious.”

“I followed you to The Outpost,” Vance explains, then gestures to Fiona. “Heard the runt calling you Nurse Calla.”

“I’m not a runt,” Fiona protests, narrowing her eyes. “I’m just small for my age. My assessment scores were great. I might even become a scientist once we get home. That was one of the options.”

I can’t suppress the angry guttural sound that rises in my throat. I turn my attention toward Fiona, which causes her to cower a little behind her plate. “A scientist, huh? That’s what you want to be? Play around with life and see what kind of abominations you can create?”

“Easy, brother,” Vance says. “She’s just a girl. The scientists who did this to us are long gone by now.”

There’s tension in the air. Tension coiled tight in my chest. I try to let it out with a sharp exhale, but it doesn’t budge.

“That’s what you are?” Nara asks cautiously. “Hybrids? Part of the same genetic experiments as the lion hybrid we met?”

“Similar,” Gideon answers. “Frank is a Class-1 hybrid. Our parents were Class-2 hybrids, designed not to look like monsters. It was supposed to take generations for our kind to have the same strength and speed as the Class-1s.”

“Scientists didn’t have any idea what they were fucking with,” I snarl. “Just a bunch of lunatics playing dangerous games with nature. The Tangle is probably their fault—some plant hybrid that got its roots in the ground after New York got bombed.”

“You were there, during all of that?” Nara perks up. “I apologize for the questions, but I’m a teacher. This is all so fascinating. It seems like a lot of history has been lost since the solar flare.”

“Lost?” I scoff. “No, more like they forgot the shit they wanted to forget. Your textbooks are probably filled with a bunch of lies to make people feel better about destroying the world.”

“How did it really happen?” Calla asks.

If the question came from Nara, I’d dismiss it. All of us would. We hate that part of the past—hate revisiting it as much as we hate the memories the call of the wild couldn’t erase. I can tell by the look on Gideon’s face that he’s going to answer, so I let him have it.

Gideon turns and reaches for a bottle. Whiskey. We don’t really have a taste for that either, but it still numbs us a little. I don’t refuse the glass he offers when he pours them. Nara gladly takes one, but doesn’t let him serve the younger girls. Calla declines on her own.

“Your textbooks are likely accurate up to a point. The two world wars. All the conflicts that followed. Some of them were called wars, but I don’t think anyone really understood the concept back then,” Gideon explains. “The Germans first started developing hybrids during World War II. The Americans weren’t far behind, but they had religion and politics to navigate. After the Nazis were defeated, all of that research was seized and taken to the genetic research facility in New York.”

“Yadda, yadda, then they started making hybrids,” I mutter, taking a sip of my whiskey. “And not the animals they were already creating. That’s when they started adding human DNA to the mix.”

“It still took a long time to get from human babies with wolf heads that died minutes after birth to Class-1s like Frank,” Gideon continues, ignoring my interruption. “And even longer to get to Class-2s. Things stalled out with us because they weren’t able to engineer a viable mate.”

Gideon’s gaze lingers on Calla. So does mine. She notices, squirming in her seat and shuddering a few soft breaths. The other girls seem oblivious to it.

“Then the Great War started,” Vance sighs. “And everything changed.”

“The history books say it began with trade conflicts,” Nara says. “Sanctions, tariffs, embargos… Is that true?”

“The bullshit before the bullets,” I grunt.

“Yes, the world was already a powder keg, just waiting for a spark to light the fuse. Once that fuse got lit, there was no way to stop it,” Gideon says, downing enough whiskey for me to tell he’s using it as a crutch to hide the need burning inside him. If it’s anything like what I’m feeling, that’s getting harder by the second. “They sent drones and soldiers into battle first. It wasn’t until they started losing that we were sent to the battlefield.”

“Oh, you actually fought in the Great War.” Nara’s jaw drops.

“Mmhmm,” Gideon murmurs. “Class-1s, too, eventually. That’s when they bombed New York. The solar flare came not long after that, so rounding up all the hybrids that escaped was impossible, especially once the heat storms started raging.”

“Wow.” Nara lets out a sigh of bewilderment.

Everyone has finished their meals. I down the rest of my whiskey.

“History lesson is over,” I grunt. “They need rest. We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“Are we that close to Haven North?” Tansy asks, speaking up for the first time since we sat down. “We’ll be home tomorrow?”

“Not that close, I’m afraid,” Vance says kindly. “It’ll take a couple of days. For you. You can’t move as fast as we can.”

“Oh,” Tansy says, some disappointment in her tone. “I-I thought we’d… ride on your back.”

“Ride us?” Vance laughs. “You know…”

“No,” I growl angrily. “We’re not horses. Nobody fucking rides us.”

“It wouldn’t be safe anyway,” Gideon adds. “We run sixty miles an hour at full speed, through trees that can gut you for breathing wrong. You fall off at that speed, you’re not getting up. Best case, you break your neck. Worst case, you wish you were dead while The Tangle finishes you off.”

“But don’t worry,” Vance chimes in, flashing a smile toward the girl who now looks terrified. “We’ll get you home safe and sound. It’ll take about two days, but that means only one more night in The Tangle after tonight. That’s good news, right?”

“Maybe for some,” Brenna sighs. I don’t know what she’s implying, but the other girls seem to.

“It’s really good news,” Fiona says, and Nara nods in agreement. “You hear that, Nurse Calla? In a couple of days, we’ll be home. It’ll be like this never happened.”

Calla’s silence conveys more than her friends pick up on.

Whether she likes it or not…

She’s already home.