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CHAPTER 7

V ance

I don’t feel what Gideon feels. Don’t have her scent in my blood like I’m ready to go feral. But there’s something about her. Something that leaves me feeling on edge, and considering what I’ve seen in The Tangle, that’s saying a lot. There’s not much out here that scares me.

I’ve wanted Gideon to step up and become our leader. I initially agreed it made sense for us to make our decisions as a group, but all we’ve done is argue. It wasn’t like that when Silas was alive. We bickered, but Silas was a true leader—an Alpha, even though most of my brothers don’t believe we’re more than just some genetic experiment gone right, then horribly wrong.

After Gideon and Jace got hurt, we were supposed to go back to the den. Well, I was pretty damn sure Gideon wasn’t going to agree when he woke up, and I would have put money on it, if we still used it. Luckily, my injured brothers don’t have fatal wounds. I healed them the best I could with redwort. We’ve discovered it not only heals but also speeds up our enhanced regeneration.

Once Gideon was conscious, he argued with Knox until Jace woke up, and surprisingly sided with Gideon. He’s acting strange now, too, and I’m starting to believe this may be fate. True fate. She could save our pack.

But what is she? Because I’ve met enough humans to know there’s something else simmering below those pretty, pretty blue eyes.

I got close enough to see them. Close enough to inhale her aroma, even if her scent isn’t doing anything to me—yet. I even got close enough to find out her name.

Calla. Or Nurse Calla as the runt of the litter calls her.

I didn’t mean to get that close, but the pull wasn’t just curiosity. It was… deeper.

I told myself I was scouting. That Gideon and Jace needed time to recover, and someone had to keep an eye on the ones they were bleeding for. But the truth is I couldn’t stop watching her.

And good thing I didn’t. Because just as the sun started to fade, I saw it—the cage door opening. Not by key. Not by force. By vine . A piece of The Tangle.

She didn’t use her hands. She didn’t say a word.

She just touched the lock… and The Tangle responded.

That could be the scariest and most fascinating thing I’ve ever seen.

Now I’m rushing to get back to my brothers as fast as four paws can carry me, because Calla has escaped her cage, three people are dead, and five women are running right toward The Tangle. The vines may like Calla, but she’ll be food for the closest predator if we don’t intervene.

“Listen!” I shout, shifting into human form as I skid to a stop. “I don’t have time to explain, but unless you want to pick pieces of her out of a Gen-Pig’s belly, I suggest you shift and follow me.”

I turn, shift, and launch myself into The Tangle. My brothers are behind me, and Gideon accelerates past me.

“I’m the one who knows where we’re going, brother,” I say through our mental link.

“I’ve got her scent!” he fires back.

Then lead, brother.

We communicate while we move in pack silence, easily catching up to Calla and the other women, but we hang back. None of us wants to take them by force, even if we could, and it’s a long way back to the den if we have to drag them.

“I don’t want to take them back to the fucking den,” Knox mutters, crouching and watching the location where the ones we’re following have stopped to rest.

It’s almost dawn now. If they don’t start moving soon, they may have an angry Gen-Lion on their heels. I didn’t see him at the house where they were being kept. Maybe he’s gotten his silver and moved on. That would be a blessing at this point.

“We’re taking her to the den,” Gideon growls. “I don’t care about the other four.”

A harsh comment, even from Gideon. We don’t get involved in human affairs anymore. But snatching her, and leaving the rest of them? That’s almost cruel.

“What if we lead them there?” I offer, exhaling sharply.

“How?” Jace asks, putting a hand on his side and stretching the still-healing wound.

“Clear a path,” I answer. “They’re not going to be running toward the noise, right? So, we guide them. We scout ahead, clear things toward the den, and leave them a trail they have to follow.”

“Then what?” Knox mutters. “We’ll have five women at the den. Now, back when we were human, that would have been a nice Saturday night, but… we lost that part of ourselves in the fucking flare.”

“Not lost.” I shake my head. “Just different.”

“Fucking a girl used to be like dying and going to heaven,” Knox grumbles. “Now, it’s like eating a pack of rations instead of hunting fresh meat. I’d rather starve.”

“Agreed,” Caleb says, shocking all of us by actually speaking.

“Tell them, Jace,” Gideon says. “Admit that you’re feeling it. That you’ve got her scent. Everyone will understand soon.”

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Jace says. “But I think we should clear a path. I’m with Vance.”

“If it makes any of you feel any better, she’s not just different from other humans. I don’t think she’s human at all,” I offer, shrugging slightly and swallowing hard.

My brothers all turn their attention to me. Maybe not the best pinecone grenade to drop right now, but we’re not arguing. That’s a start.

“What do you mean she’s not human?” Gideon asks, stepping closer. “What is she?”

“No idea,” I answer.

I tell them what I saw. I can see the skepticism in Knox’s eyes, especially when I describe the way the vine reacted to the lock. Caleb stares in silence, completely unreadable. Jace and Gideon seem to contemplate it.

“So, that’s why you want her back at the den?” Knox grunts. “This is like that time you discovered those plants near Haven South that spit seeds at you. You just want to study her. Another science experiment.”

“If those plants had gotten a little bigger, they might have been useful,” I mutter. “It’s not like that. You know I have read a lot about wolves, packs, and things like that. I’ve gone over all the research our brothers left behind. What Gideon is describing could very well be our mate. Especially if Jace is sensing it too. And her name is Calla.”

“They’re moving,” Gideon growls, immediately shifting.

“What do we do?” Jace asks.

“Clear a path!” Gideon roars across our mental link and we’re off.

Jace just asked Gideon’s opinion, and now he’s following him. Is this some kind of natural hierarchy emerging because of… her? Knox isn’t brought in, but he begrudgingly joins us. I’m not sure what Caleb thinks anymore. He’s just a brick wall who barely speaks.

It’s a long way from The Outpost to the den and they move slowly. We run into a pair of Gen-Hens, but easily dispatch them. They eat everything in their path, so they were too dangerous to leave unchecked. Slowly, but surely, Calla and her misfits cross a stretch of The Tangle. Probably the longest stretch any humans have walked without encountering a predator. They wisely choose to stop for the night when they reach a clearing.

“This is like babysitting puppies,” Knox groans as he shifts and sits down.

“Your puppies?” I joke, sitting beside him.

“Fuck you,” Knox grumbles. “You know what I meant.”

“It’s more like herding, if you think about it,” Jace chuckles. “We do that to prey sometimes. Now we’re just killing the predators and protecting the prey.”

“Like sheepdogs,” Knox mutters.

“We did well today,” Gideon says. “No one got hurt and Calla is safe.”

“Until that fucking Gen-Lion, if he shows up,” Knox says. “If we take Calla now, we’ll get her there faster. Let the other four deal with the Gen-Lion.”

“That’s the safest plan,” Gideon agrees. “I doubt the Gen-Lion would go looking for the last one, if he finds them. He’ll assume The Tangle got her.”

“No,” I say, feeling a twinge when I disagree with him. “They’re important to Calla. She risked her life to save them. One of them is hurt, and she didn’t leave her behind.”

“Fuck it,” Jace says. “At least we’ll always have a fresh meal out here. It’s good not to be cooped up in the den all the time except when we hunt.”

Caleb remains silent. Gideon looks down like he’s considering it, then raises his head and I see a flicker in his eyes.

“Vance is right. We take them all to the den,” Gideon growls.

Nobody argues. Knox doesn’t even lodge a protest while begrudgingly agreeing because the rest of us agree. Well, all of us except the one who rarely speaks. He sided with Knox earlier but doesn’t have a word to offer now.

“We should rest,” Gideon says.

“I’ll take first watch,” I offer, moving closer to the perimeter of our camp—in the direction that gives me the best view of the one we’re watching.

Gideon looks like he wants to object, but he doesn’t. He nods, flashes a faint smile, and moves closer to the area we set aside for sleeping.

We don’t really need to keep watch. It’s part of our military training. When we sleep, we’re always alert. During the day at the den, we nap more than we sleep. Most of us will be up periodically throughout the night, regardless of who keeps watch.

I’m going first, because I want to get closer to Calla’s camp. I want to check on them and make sure they’re okay. They’re probably hungry by now. Eventually, they’ll get desperate enough to try one of the berries or fruits that adorn parts of The Tangle. We’ll need to direct them near food and water that won’t kill them tomorrow.

I shift from wolf to man once I’m close to Calla’s camp. They’re all huddled together for warmth and comfort. The runt looks like she’s been through hell. Nara, the one who is injured, is not getting any better. She may not make it to the den. I could treat her—but I’d probably scare them to death. If I was in their position, I’d be pretty scared if a giant, naked, mossy-haired savage walked into my camp. That could send them running in every direction.

Calla’s bracelet seems to hum like The Tangle. Like it’s still connected, even though she severed it from the root. I’ve never seen a vine do that. It looks similar to spikeshade, but spikeshade burns through human flesh and consumes it. It can hurt us, too, but it takes a lot longer.

Whatever Calla is, she’s not a normal human, even if she looks like one. She’s completely immune to the vine. Not just immune, but it responds to her. If she’s meant to be our mate, it means we’re connected to The Tangle, too. I’ve always suspected it, but my brothers don’t believe me—the ones still alive, at least. They believe science is responsible for everything.

The scientists may have started the process, but something happened to us after the solar flare. During the heat storms. When The Tangle first began to rise from the ground, everyone believed was too damaged by the sun for anything to grow. The Tangle not only grew, but flourished.

“Calla…” I whisper. Her name on my tongue feels like the sweetest word I’ve ever spoken. “What are you? Are you really the answer?”

The scientists learned early in their experiments that the children of hybrids exhibited different traits from their parents, but the human side of hybrids made mating difficult. Fertility issues were rising across the globe, and hybrids were no exception. Not only did the scientists have natural infertility to overcome, but the process for creating hybrids also did significant damage to the reproductive system.

“Tansy, do you feel like taking second watch?” Calla asks, gently nudging the young woman next to Nara.

“O-okay, Calla,” Tansy whispers, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

Tansy gets up and walks around, probably to get the sleep out of her system. After a few minutes, she sits down beside a rock and starts crying. Her sadness echoes through The Tangle and I hear it whisper back, but Tansy doesn’t seem to notice.

“The Tangle loves grief,” I sigh, feeling a twinge of sympathy for the girl.

I carry my grief differently from my brothers. Maybe that’s why I’ve always felt such a strong connection to The Tangle. Why I can hear it whispering back, and they can’t. But it’s never responded to me like it does to Calla. It seems to pulse with her heart, and when she falls asleep, there’s a noticeable quiet around us like The Tangle itself doesn’t want to disturb her.

Well, the plants, at least. I hear a crash in the distance. It draws my attention first, then Tansy hears it, too.

“Fuck,” I mutter. “Trouble.”

I shift and sprint back to my camp. My brothers have heard it too, and they’re already shifting.

“Did you see what it was?” Gideon asks across our mental link.

“Something big,” I answer. “I doubt it’s friendly.”

My brothers and I move in pack silence, weaving through the underbrush like shadows. The scent of blood and rot clings to the air, but it’s not fresh. Whatever’s picked up the trail of Calla and the others isn’t moving with much speed.

We crest the ridge and freeze.

Below us, a swath of devastation cuts through The Tangle like a wound. Trees splintered. Undergrowth flattened. The ground trembles with every slow, thundering step of the thing leaving it behind.

“Gen-Brute,” Gideon says, transmitting the thought to us all. There’s a weight to his tone. Not fear, but recognition. A hint of respect, but mostly disgust. “Not many of those left.”

The creature moves through the forest like it’s too big for the world. A failed war machine—a trihybrid. One of few that were ever successfully engineered. Man. Ape. Boar. But what lumbers below us is more beast than anything they wrapped up in a uniform.

It walks on two bowed legs, its gait heavy and hunched, dragging one clawed hand like a club. The other arm swings wide with every step, swatting saplings like they’re grass. Its chest is a mat of black hair and scar tissue, and beneath its jutted jaw are two tusks as long as my arm that curve outward—yellowed, cracked, and coated in the remnants of something it devoured days ago. The stench hits even upwind.

It hasn’t fed in a while. That’s why it’s hunting now.

“We can’t lead it off,” Jace says through the link. “It’s locked on. Smells food. We’ll have to fight.”

Gen-Brutes were created after the government decided to unleash hybrids on the battlefield. After they stopped caring if other nations knew about the genetic horrors they had been creating. It was a mistake they regretted as soon as the bombs started falling on New York.

Gideon doesn’t hesitate. He announces our presence with a roar so deep it rattles my chest—and then he charges. The rest of us are right behind him.

We fan out as we descend, moving fast, our claws tearing into soft soil. The Gen-Brute stops mid-step and turns, confused by the sudden sounds. Its starved, bloodshot eyes dart. It realizes too late that it’s surrounded.

It bellows, swiping with its clawed hand. They are huge, crushing blows that shear bark from trees, but we’re faster.

Jace strikes first, his fangs slicing into the Gen-Brute’s calf. It howls. Knox follows from the opposite side, tearing into the other leg. The beast stumbles forward, swinging blindly. Caleb darts in, silent as always, and slashes at the back of its knee with surgical precision.

I lunge, sinking my teeth into its flank, feeling the muscle tear as I twist and rip free a bloody hunk. The copper taste floods my mouth. It’s hot and sour, like most trihybrids. There’s a reason we’ve never hunted them for food.

The Gen-Brute screams and lashes out, managing to clip Jace with a swipe that sends him skidding back into a tree, but he’s already pushing up again. He snarls and rushes forward. He’s scratched, but it isn’t a wound that will require medical treatment.

We keep moving—darting in, inflicting damage, backing off before it can land a serious hit. It’s slow, but strong. One lucky strike could kill one of us. But we’re not giving it the chance.

Caleb goes for the spine, Knox for the throat. I clamp down on its elbow joint and feel it pop, the arm going limp.

It stumbles into a tree with a crash, panting heavily, bleeding from a dozen deep wounds.

“I’ve got the kill,” Gideon growls across the link, his voice edged with something feral and final.

We part without hesitation.

Gideon barrels forward and crashes into the Gen-Brute’s chest. His teeth sink into the skin protecting the beast’s airway. He tears sideways with a roar, ripping a gory trench through the thick flesh.

The Gen-Brute convulses. One last gurgle echoes through The Tangle. Then stillness.

Gideon rises slowly, blood dripping down his teeth. His golden eyes blaze in the fading light as he turns to look at us. He shifts into human form and spits out pieces of the trihybrid. We shift as well, panting from the heat of battle.

“Good kill,” Gideon growls, wiping his mouth.

Knox shifts and the look in his eyes reflects anger.

“Good kill? We shouldn’t even be fighting shit like this,” Knox says. “We can’t even make a meal out of a Gen-Brute. Fucking trihybrids.”

“We agreed to steer them toward the den,” Gideon says. “We can’t do that if a Gen-Brute eats them.”

“Let’s get back to our camp,” Jace mutters, shaking his head like he’s confused. “It won’t be light for a while. I’ll take next watch.”

“Are you injured, brother?” I ask, approaching him.

“I’m fine,” he growls, calling his wolf and disappearing into the underbrush.

Gideon’s already on the edge of feral. Jace is starting to feel the pull. If this thing is following the hierarchy we were born into, and so far, it has, then Knox will be next. Then Caleb. And eventually… me.

These instincts are new to us. Uncharted. I wish Keaton were still here. He studied all of this more than any of us. He was the first to say what none of us wanted to admit—if we don’t find mates, our pack will eventually become a memory in The Tangle.

At first, we thought we’d die of old age. But the years passed, and we didn’t change. No gray. No weakness. That’s when we realized the truth. The Tangle would claim us long before the shattered remains of our humanity had a chance.

“Let’s go,” Gideon says, shifting and following Jace.

I watch them disappear into the underbrush, my thoughts still on the girl with pretty, pretty blue eyes.

Whatever Calla is…

She may be our only hope.