Page 22 of Wicked Dove (Institute Thirteen #1)

SIXTEEN

RION

Anger rages through me from head to toe as I descend the stairs two at a time. The double doors ricochet as I storm through them, exiting Institute Thirteen and beelining for the path that leads to The Vale. My pulse rings in my ears, my heart ready to leap from my chest when I hear my name.

“Rion!” It’s repeated when I don’t glance back the first time.

Frustrated, I peer over my shoulder without slowing my pace to see Kael standing at the entrance to the Institute with his hands on his hips and a frown on his face.

I don’t have time for him right now. There’s enough to deal with.

Shaking my head, I redirect my attention toward The Vale, fighting with my wolf every step of the way. I would get there much faster if I shifted, but leaving him in charge won’t end well. I can already feel it, the damp feel of blood on my claws and the taste of vengeance on my tongue.

I’m torn over what I just saw, but my wolf?

There’s no deliberation with him, only brutality.

Seeing her like that, scarred and marked at the hands of someone who was supposed to care for her, makes my chest tighten unbearably.

I know what it’s like to feel pain at the hands of those with whom you share blood, but my scars aren’t visible for all to see.

Elodie’s were right there, etched into her skin, all mottled and heartbreaking. I could almost feel the pain myself.

More than that, I almost fucking kissed her. Me. I have to shake it off. I have to shake her off, but it’s proving harder than I expected.

I try to ease the tension in my arms as I sway them at my sides, but it’s impossible. Even as I try to blink through the memories threatening to flood my mind, focusing as hard as I can on the edge of The Vale as it comes into view, I find myself losing with every step.

My sight blurs at the edges as my thoughts drift.

The air grows still and icy, leaving goosebumps to dance along my forearms. The sticky feeling of dread clogs my throat as my father’s raging stare meets mine in my mind.

I could always tell when he was mad. His deep brown eyes would burn bright, morphing into a fiery amber as he set his sights on me.

I never knew the rules beforehand; I only ever knew when I’d done something to piss him off, and I can’t remember a time when he wasn’t mad at me.

The place where it all began, where it grew worse, is what always plays on repeat in my mind, and just like now, with my anger spiked and my defenses raised, it swarms me.

The land is dark, only the moon offering light over the plains as the pack gathers.

The murmurs tell me my father is in a bad mood, and I consider running for the treeline off in the distance.

The idea of hiding until he calms down burns strongly in my thoughts, but it’s as if they’re a beacon to him as the crowd parts and his deathly stare lands on me.

“Come.”

It feels like the ground vibrates at his command. I gulp back my fear as I shuffle toward him, aware of the pitying glances from the rest of the pack.

The moment I’m within arm’s length, he strikes me with the back of his hand and I crumple to the ground. Rattled, I gulp back a few deep breaths as I curl my fists into the blades of grass beneath me, but there’s no savior here.

“Stand, Runt.”

Choking back the tears that threaten to flood my vision, I do as he orders, hating his nickname for me as I come to stand toe to toe with him.

“Alpha,” I rasp, the tremble to my shoulders drawing his attention from my face for a split second before he sneers at me.

“It’s time for your wolf to make an appearance.”

I blink at him. We all know it’s not as simple as that. You can activate your wolf in one of two ways: at the age of thirteen, or by triggering it in response to killing someone. I’m barely twelve, so it won’t be the former, which only leaves the latter.

“But—”

He strikes again and I sway on my thin legs, my knees crashing together as I hit the dirt once again.

“Stand,” he snarls, grabbing the collar of my t-shirt and launching me to my feet. His face is in mine as he drags me upright with such force that my feet leave the ground for a brief moment. “It’s time to prove to the pack that you are worthy of your place here.”

I tremble, understanding washing over me and terror leaving me breathless as a loud thud radiates from the left. My father looks first, and I dare to follow his line of sight, regretting it instantly.

A woman sobs, curled up in the fetal position on the ground, and my heart aches. Instinctively, I want to drop to my knees and check on her, but I know that will only anger my father, so I remain in his grasp without a fight.

“Show our people you are worthy of the Strachan Pack name,” he sneers, tossing me toward the woman.

Somehow, I manage to stay on my feet, but I sway with the rapid beating of my heart.

Clutching my hand to my chest, I stare at the pack around me.

Some wear wicked grins that match my father’s level of insanity, while others see the issue here, yet they say nothing. No one wishes for my father’s wrath.

“I-I c-c-can’t d-do this,” I splutter, my teeth clattering with fear.

I’m so rattled that I don’t anticipate the disapproval the words will rip from my father until his blow hits the back of my head, sending me careening to my knees.

“Kill her or we leave you here for dead.”

My blurred vision can’t fixate on anything, but I spy the outline of my target a few steps away.

Her or me.

She whimpers, or is it me?

The worry consuming me has me heaving a deep breath, bracing for impact from my father, but it doesn’t come. The moment of reprieve allows my gaze to settle, and I find the woman being held in position by two pack members, silently attempting to make this easier for me.

Who survives, her or me?

I choose her. But as I step backward, I feel the hard press of my father’s chest behind me.

“Now, Son,” he rasps, and I watch in dismay as his hands shift, claws protruding from his knuckles as he holds them to my face.

Desperation spreads through my limbs as the world darkens around me. It’s as though my mind shuts off and my body takes over. I feel nothing, I see nothing, I am nothing, until I’m struck with excruciating pain that runs through my bones.

Fur greets me when I dare to open my eyes, paws and all.

I shake out of the trance to find myself in the one place I’ve always felt safe.

Gulping, I lift my hand and rap my knuckles on the door.

I don’t wait for a reply. I can’t. I need help now.

Stepping into the office, the woman I’m looking for comes into view.

Perched behind her desk, with her combat boots kicked up on the wood, she turns to me with a frown.

Her features soften when she sees it’s me, but she quickly becomes more alert when she realizes I’m trembling.

“Calm down, what’s going on?” she asks softly, lowering her feet before standing. She’s around the desk in a heartbeat, cupping my chin with concern as I fail to take a deep breath.

“I need to find someone,” I mutter, and she frowns in confusion.

“Care to explain why?”

My gut twists. “No.”

“Is this pack related?” she asks, taking a step back to assess me, and I shake my head.

It’s never going to be a pack issue. We’re rogue for a reason. It gives us somewhere to belong without taking something from us, which we no longer have the capacity to provide.

“Who did you need to find?” she asks, and I bow my head a touch.

“Warren Blackwood.”

“Blackwood?” she repeats, and when I glance up through my lashes, I find her eyebrows furrowed. “Does this have something to do with the new girl?”

I knew she would connect the dots immediately, but I still need the help. “It doesn’t matter,” I mutter, and she reaches for my cheek again.

“I can see the trauma in your eyes, Ri, the guy who was bred to fight and obey. What’s going on?”

I shrug, trying to downplay it as best as I can, but she sees right through me as always. “It’s not my story to tell.”

“If she’s evoking this side of you, maybe it would be better to stay away from her,” she considers, running her thumb across my skin.

She’s probably right, but it feels like the last thing I want.

Inching closer, her hand falls from my cheek to land on my chest, the touch almost endearing until she starts to stroke down my t-shirt, running over my abs hidden beneath the fabric. “Do you need me to…”

“No,” I blurt, taking a step back. Not now, not with Elodie still on my fingers.

Disappointment twists across her features and I brace for her to insist, but to my surprise, she nods, stepping back too. “Okay, but I can’t let you head back like this. Let’s work it out of your system. Grab the weights,” she orders, nodding toward the gym door to my right.

I move without thinking, but turn back to her before I make it all the way.

“And you’ll search for him?” I clarify, needing it just as much as I need to burn off the steam.

Her smile is gentle, but the look in her eyes is slightly unhinged.

“You know I’m always here for you.”

Sweat clings to me like a second skin as I approach Institute Thirteen, the moonlight guiding me home.

I stop a few steps away from the door, peering up at the building’s tall peaks and gloomy exterior.

I’m exhausted—more than exhausted. It’s exactly what I needed.

Every muscle aches, the rage has simmered away, and my head is back on straight.

I can think clearly, I can see it all. It hasn’t changed my intentions; I still want Warren fucking Blackwood’s location, but I’m able to approach the matter a lot more levelheaded.

That might change when I finally get the chance to meet him, but for now, I’m refocused.

Entering Thirteen, I take the stairs two at a time, racing to the top as fast as I descended them earlier, but as I reach my door, I pause, peering at the one across the hall instead. She’s in there. I know she is. I can catch her scent from out here and it stirs the need inside of me again.

I shouldn’t have been so selfless earlier, I could have felt her hands on me, I could have come too. But there’s time for that. My cock stands tight beneath my shorts, straining for attention, and I shake my head in disbelief.

My cock is never like this.

Ever.

But for her, it won’t go down.

Before I can think better of it, I cut the few steps across the hall and stop in front of her bedroom door. I lift my hand to knock, but the idea of waking her up makes my heart clench. Instead, I twist the door handle and let it fall open with a creak.

The chance to step over the threshold is halted as Ocean appears in the crack, knife poised and aimed my way.

What the fuck?

“You don’t always have to be so psychotic, Ocean,” I grunt, and she sneers at me. The look in her eyes makes me certain she’s going to use that damn thing. Even her pajamas are blood red, like she’s prepared for the moment.

“And you also don’t have to ignore the rules of a door,” she grunts in response, waving the knife around precariously. “Maybe I should let Professor Morton know that you’re breaking and entering,” she adds, cocking a devilish eyebrow at me, and I scoff.

“I didn’t break anything,” I whisper, keeping my voice low in hopes of not disturbing Elodie, and Ocean sighs.

“Trespassing then.”

She’s persistent, that’s for sure.

I roll my eyes and lift my hands in surrender. “I just want to see her,” I state truthfully, and she shrugs.

“She’s sleeping.”

“Even better,” I insist as I nudge the door with my foot, and it spills open just enough to reveal the sleeping beauty to me.

“Don’t wake her,” Ocean warns, taking a step back but continuing to brandish the knife in my direction.

“I don’t intend to,” I admit, my gaze fixed on the girl in question as I step over the threshold, but I don’t move an inch closer.

I stand there, staring at her in wonder, all while Ocean glares at the side of my face, but what startles me is the desire to touch her. My fingers ache to feel her skin against mine, to learn every inch of her from head to toe. It’s too much.

Before I do something stupid, I stumble back a step, narrowly missing the door frame as I charge for my room. I don’t even bother to speak to Ocean, and she’s more than content to close the door the second I’m out of there, leaving me alone in the hallway with my thoughts.

I gulp, but my heart continues to race. She has me all tangled up and I don’t know what to do about it.