Page 23 of Pack Rage (The Splintered Bond #4)

Chapter 22

Family Reunion

FLOR

“ B earman!” I ran across the cell, kicking scattered clothing and beer cans out of my way. My Mountain mate was dressed in a dirty collared shirt and a pair of equally filthy jeans, and no shoes. His beard and hair were wild, but not as wild as his eyes as he held up his arms to catch me when I leaped onto him, giving him a kiss almost as hot as the one I’d shared with Finnick a few seconds before.

Finnick muttered something about wanting to be climbed like a tree as well, but we ignored him. Brand held me out, examining me for injuries or something, until I kicked him, forcing him to let me down. “Are you hurt, little flower?”

“I’m fine. Not a mark on me,” I said. “Though I can’t say the same for you.” His sleeves were pushed up, showcasing two very obvious bite marks. “Looks like you’re a favorite chew toy, Bearman. Should I be jealous?”

He growled and lifted me back up, giving me a thorough, chastising kiss, and a soft swat on the bottom before he put me down. He nodded at Finnick, taking in the new scar on his neck, his silver eyes widening as they snagged on the bite mark I’d just given. “I could ask the same. Should I be jealous? You’ve given Finn two marks now.”

“Never. You were my first. And you gave me a lake. Hard to top that.” I wrapped an arm around his wide waist, or tried to. It almost seemed like Brand had grown bigger in his human form since he’d become Alpha. My own wolf purred in approval. More of him to love.

He leaned down and nuzzled my hair, breathing in my scent. “I wish I could take you there now. But I’m afraid we’re stuck down here.”

My heart raced. I hated feeling trapped. “Yeah, I heard the guards have silver weapons.”

“The lower-level guards aren’t a problem currently. But we can’t get out. Aidan has dozens of Enforcers at the only exits and, yes, they’re all armed with silver.” He sighed, then straightened and turned his head to the side. “Hello, Finn. I’m glad to see you’re still alive.”

“Same here, but sorry our plan didn’t work,” Finnick replied, standing. “Are you alone?”

Brand rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Ah, no. The little psycho’s still not at his best, so he’s having a snack in the hallway.”

The serial killer in question ambled through the door, licking what looked like blood off one of his thumbs. He shot an amused look at Brand. “Call me Grigor, brother. You can use my name now. After all, we’re mates—I mean, brother mates. Isn’t that what Glen calls us?” He was wearing a guard’s uniform that was only a little too big on him, the shirt still unbuttoned.

Brand grumbled something rude and tried to hold my hand to keep me from approaching Grigor, but I pressed a kiss to his wrist and pulled away. I’d been so worried about Grigor. I had to touch him, though the flickering sparks in his eyes had me wary.

He looked thinner than the last time I’d seen him, and he had marks from what had to be silver, all over him. Some of them were stripes, as if wire had been wrapped around him. Others were small and round, from tiny bullets or… nails? I peered at one in the middle of his cheek that obviously had been a puncture, but was healing quickly, the skin returning almost to normal as I watched.

“Hello, little behrserk ,” Grigor half-purred, obviously not in any pain now, as I reached up to feel the healing skin.

“Hello, boogeyman,” I teased. My voice came out breathy as the familiar tingles started up from his touch. I could get addicted to those. “Where’d you get the uniform? Any chance it belonged to a guy with a black goatee?” I asked, slightly disappointed as he buttoned up the shirt, and trying not to blush at the lust in his dark eyes when he noticed.

“Did you know him?” He moved so close, I could feel the heat of his body in the air between us, and stroked my hair with the back of one bloody hand.

“I just knew he was down here.” I had to drop my gaze—though it might have been from embarrassment that I was getting turned on so fast—and noticed he’d misbuttoned the shirt. I took the excuse to touch him again, unbuttoning him halfway. The tiny divots in his skin went all the way down, and I touched each one lightly as I uncovered them, making a promise to return the insult to whoever had done this. Though Grigor may have already taken care of them. “Did you kill him?”

“No, I left him for dessert, my queen,” he murmured, halfway closing his eyes as my fingers brushed his chest. “He’s down the hallway. Tied up, of course. Why?”

Dessert? I wouldn’t ask. I finished buttoning him, taking my time, before I pulled away reluctantly. “He needs to die horribly.”

Grigor dropped back with one leg extended, doing some old, courtly bow. He murmured, “As my queen commands,” planted a soft kiss on my hand that gave me more electric shocks all up my arm, and raced back out the door.

“I’ll help him. I’ll need some more clothes as well.” Finnick followed him, the briefs doing nothing to hide his toned ass, and my blush grew deeper.

“Don’t go to any trouble on my account,” I muttered, watching his butt cheeks flex hypnotically as he left. I couldn’t keep my eyes off him, off any of them. Damnit, I was turning into a pervert.

The sound of muffled screaming started down the hall a few seconds later, bringing me back to the reality of our situation. “Bearman, are we safe here, for the moment? You said we were trapped.”

Brand had already moved to my mama on the sofa and was kneeling beside her, examining her almost as closely as he had me. She was still asleep, but the frown line in between her brows made me think her dreams weren’t good ones. He pressed a clean cloth over the bloodsoaked one on her stomach, but it didn’t wake her. He shook his head. “Safe? Not until we’re home on my packlands, little one. But we have some breathing room for a few hours. The witch isn’t here, and the moon is full tomorrow.”

He came back over to me, sitting cross-legged on the floor and pulling me down onto him. I laid my head against his chest as he spoke, letting the rumble of his voice soothe me. “We had a plan to wait until the Council meeting. Luke would challenge Callaway and put an end to that problem. Finn would challenge his father right afterward. Grigor and I would take care of Elina.”

“You want to tell me how this happened?” I whispered, running my hand over the new mark on his right arm. “Did you bite him, too?”

The shaking in my chest might have been his laughter. “We didn’t exchange marks. One bite is all it took. We’re not mates.”

“I wouldn’t be jealous,” I teased. “I’ve got four mates so far. I don’t have a leg to stand on.”

“You won’t have a butt to sit on if you’re not careful,” Brand mock-threatened.

“Do I need to defend you from my brother mate, little blade?” Grigor called from the doorway. He looked refreshed, somehow. Like he’d just had a long nap, though his stolen uniform was even more rumpled. His hands were bloodier as well, but he picked up a discarded napkin and wiped them clean before approaching.

Not a nap. Dessert. My wolf was preening about her thoughtful mate-to-be.

I wasn’t going to ask if he’d really eaten the goatee guard, but my imagination was going wild. “Where’s Finn?”

Grigor’s attention was on my mother, but he answered while he grabbed a chair from the table and carried it over to the sofa. “He’s releasing Glen’s parents from their cell.”

While my mind spun—how had I forgotten about the Hilliers?—Brand asked, “Breaking the lock?”

“It’s electronic,” Grigor replied, reaching for one of my mama’s hands. “I taught him a little trick. He’s a clever pup. Someday he’ll be a powerful one, too.” He leaned over and pressed his forehead to the hand he’d lifted, so that it looked like she was checking him for fever. What was he up to?

“Pup?” I asked softly, but Mama was already awake.

“ Get away! ” she shrieked, her voice high-pitched and frantic. I jumped up and raced to where she could see me. Brand was behind me in an instant, protecting my back.

“Mama, it’s okay! He’s with me. He’s one of my mates.”

Mama’s face froze. Brand sighed heavily. I didn’t dare look at Grigor, since I’d sort of jumped the gun on that one.

“I should be so honored,” Grigor murmured at last.

“Good that you know it,” Brand grunted like a possessive cave bear as he sat back down.

Mama wasn’t having any of it, as she kept scooching to the end of the sofa. “Baby, you’d better be lyin’ right now. That man is filled with evil. I can hardly look at him.” She blinked furiously as she hit the opposite sofa arm, obviously seeing something in Grigor that I couldn’t.

“Finally, someone with a little sense,” Brand grumbled.

I gave him a shut up look, and went to join Grigor and Mama. Well, Grigor anyway. Mama looked like she might tumble off the far end of the sofa to keep her distance. When I put an arm around Grigor, though, and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, the only part of her that moved was her mouth flopping open.

I grinned. “You look like a largemouth bass, Mama. Close your mouth and come over and meet my… suitor,” I finished, wondering when I’d started blushing every second minute. “This is Grigor Dimitrivich. You’ve probably heard some things…”

“I don’t need to hear a thing,” Mama spat out, pushing her wild silver curls away from her scarred face. “I can see it. Look, baby. Really look at that creature. He has no business anywhere near you.”

“Except that the moon has seen fit to give me a path to redemption, Lily Rain of the Western Pack,” Grigor said gently. He squeezed me gently, and that cold, prickly feeling that I’d grown to love returned, like energy moving between us. Maybe that’s just what it was; I felt stronger after he touched me. “If your daughter decides to allow me to stand with her, I will do all I can to deserve that honor. I will die for her.”

“You almost did,” I grouched. He still looked far weaker than when we’d first met. “I don’t want any of my mates—or suitors—to die. I want us all to live, which means working together. Even if you think his soul looks like roadkill, Mama. He’s my mate, or will be. You’re gonna need to get along.”

My heart broke a little more, because that might not really be true. Mama was mortally wounded, and the rest of us were up shit creek. None of us were guaranteed to survive. Without reinforcements or divine intervention, we might not make it to the next full moon, and that was only… hours away, I realized. One more night, and then tomorrow, as soon as the moon rose, there would be a Council meeting.

Grigor kneeled before Mama. “Alpha Mother, I know you. I see you as well, your shining spirit wrapped with a tainted bond, an evil you never earned. I will vow on the moon not to hurt her, or any of her kin, if that helps you to see how precious she is to me.”

Mama narrowed her eyes, staying silent for a moment. When she did speak, her tone was sharp. “No vows. Some of her kin may need to be hurt.”

Grigor understood immediately. “I’ll make an exception for him.”

“You’ll need to get in line,” Brand snapped.

Grigor’s tone softened even more. “May I help you now, Alpha Mother? You’re bleeding too quickly.”

“If I die, so will that bastard,” she said softly. “Even if I had hoped to deliver the moon’s justice firsthand.” I felt Brand’s eyes on my face as I fought tears, and lost.

Grigor’s focus stayed on Mama, though he was still in my mind, soothing me. “We need all the hands we can get, Alpha Mother. Please allow me to do this small thing for the mother of my beloved, my wolf’s mate.”

She hissed, then slumped back down onto the sofa. “Go on, then. Just… stop calling me that. I didn’t earn it.”

Grigor moved slowly to sit at her feet and held out a hand, waiting for her to take it. “If we all got what we earned, I would never have the courage to walk under the moon.”

She placed her hand on his, and he did that thing again, where he pressed his forehead to it. Her hair moved first, sort of standing up on end, the curls waving in an invisible breeze. Then her eyes began to glow golden, and her lips parted. “Enough!” she said, just before Grigor listed to one side, catching himself on the sofa’s edge.

“Grigor?” I kneeled beside him, but he waved me away, pressing a hand to his sternum. Now Mama was the one who looked well rested, and Grigor had a little of that “rode hard and put up wet” aura he’d had before dessert . “Are there any more guards?” I asked, worried.

“I’m well. Give me a moment.” I frowned, but did as he asked.

“Shit, that’s weird,” Brand said, rubbing his own chest. “He’s really good with the bonds. I could feel him pulling just from his own power, not from mine.”

Wearing another guard’s uniform, Finnick stepped into the room with Margarette clinging to his arm. “This room reeks, but it’s the only food we have down here. Flor, can you—” he began, but I was already on my feet and running to help.

The woman I’d met at Southern was gone. In her place stood a refugee, her hair ragged, her scarred face drawn, and her clothing filthier than Brand’s. “Flor,” Margarette cried out as I enfolded her in a gentle hug. “I’m so glad to see you. Where’s Glen?”

Bradley staggered into the room next, Finnick leaving me to rush to his side. The two chairs were carried to the table, and we sat the Hilliers down to eat. I was glad that the kitchen workers had piled plenty of meat onto the platter, since they both looked like they hadn’t eaten a meal—maybe not anything—in weeks.

Bradley made sure Margarette had plenty before he began eating, turning to me as he grabbed a small piece of meat, and took his time with it. I knew why they weren’t gobbling it down; I’d been starved enough times to know it would just come back up if you ate too fast.

He finally asked, “Why isn’t Glen with you, Flor? Is he safe?”

“I… I don’t know.” I explained what had happened, how Glen had drawn away the Enforcers outside. “I would’ve felt something if anything had happened to him, right? In our mate bond?” My mouth dried up as I tried to feel him through our bond now. It was oddly quiet, as if he was sleeping.

Margarette’s hand flew to her mouth, the usually perfect nails split and ragged, only a few chips of red polish remaining, and her eyes welled. “You’re mated? You and my Glen?”

I blinked, not sure how she was taking this. What kind of tears were those? The “I’m so glad to have a daughter-in-law” ones, or the “I’m so disappointed; my son could have done better than this trash” ones? I jutted my chin out. “We are. I’m mated to Glen… and Brand, as you know. And Luke, who’s up in the Mansion, I think. I’m, ah, also mated to Finnick.” Her eyes had gone wide, and Bradley had stopped chewing with a mouth full.

Grigor slid up next to me, and the meat fell out of Bradley’s mouth as he stared. “Do you want to tell them, or should I, sweetheart?” he murmured.

I elbowed him in the gut. “Not helping, Grigor.” He stifled a laugh, and I stepped away.

Finnick moved up beside me, stopping in front of Grigor just in time. Bradley had stood to do something—maybe launch himself at Grigor? Throw something? Finnick’s appearance stopped him in his tracks.

Finnick spoke to the newcomers. “I think this might be a good time to do introductions. Bradley, Margarette? This is my great-many-times-over grandfather, Grigor Dimitrivich. Grigor? These are our allies. Please don’t kill them.”

“Your grandfather?” I managed to squeak out, before all hell broke loose.