The Burning Claw (The Grey Wolves #10)(31)

“You’re one to talk, you filter-less heifer.”
Jen ignored her redheaded friend and turned back to Bethany. “So you know the differences?”
“Yes, I know that,” Bethany said with more confidence.
“Good, now do you know how they fit together?”
“What?” Bethany’s eyes widened.
Jen was practically bouncing in her seat. “This is better than I expected.” She opened one of the books on her lap and turned it to face Bethany.
Jacque leaned forward and gasped when she saw what was in the book. “That was in the pack library?”
“Told you Alina and Vasile were freaks,” Jen smirked.
“This is your library, you over-sexed, freak,” Jacque reminded her friend.
Jen shrugged. “It was never in question that I’m a freak. But a lot of these books were brought over from the Romanian pack library when Decebel took over the Serbian pack. Apparently, the previous Alpha was into keeping his pack ignorant on, well, pretty much everything concerning the history of their race. Personally, I think it was Vasile’s way of getting rid of the evidence,” she said, waving said evidence at her.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Jacque teased and then held up her hand. “No more. We could do this all day. She needs our help.” Jacque motioned toward a very still, very shocked looking Bethany.
Bethany hadn’t said a word. She was staring at the pictures with a look on her face that Jen couldn’t quite decipher. There was shock, maybe a tad bit of embarrassment, a drop of horror, and a whole lot of fascination.
“Is he—” Bethany started and began to point but then pulled her hand back. “I mean, that’s…” She stumbled over her words trying to process what she was seeing. Finally, she ended with “really?”
“Maybe you should have started a little slower,” Jacque muttered.
“They’re pictures,” Jen huffed. “How much more elementary can you get?”
“They’re pictures of intimate positions, Jen, not freaking Dr. Seuss books.”
Jen laughed. “Can you imagine if Dr. Seuss published a book like this? Instead of Horton Hatches the Egg it would be Ferguson Fertilizes the Female. You’d never look at those books the same.”
Jacque screeched and hit her with a pillow. “I have a kid who’s probably going to want those books read to him and you just totally messed it up.”
“I never claimed to be sane,” Jen chirped. “Now, getting back to our not Dr. Seuss picture book. Do you have any questions?”
“Just a few hundred,” Bethany answered with a straight face.
Jen grinned. “Excellent. What do you want to know?”
Drake needed to move. He needed to turn on his heel, walk away, and give his mate privacy. That’s what he needed to do. But his feet stayed planted firmly on the ground beneath him. Bethany had floored him with her actions. First, she’d declared him unable to touch her which infuriated him and tore at his soul. His wolf longed for that touch. Then she’d gone and talked with other females about their intimate, or lack thereof, relationship. Why couldn’t she see that he was just trying to respect her and do the right thing? Did she honestly believe that he didn’t want her? She was his true mate. He couldn’t not want her even if he wanted to, which he didn’t. He wanted her with every breath he took. His wolf cried out for her but she wasn’t hearing him because, unfortunately, she’d mastered closing the bond down quite efficiently.When the girls’ conversation moved on to other topics, Drake decided that another run and maybe even some one-on-one fighting would do him some good. His feet started moving before he even finished the thought. As soon as he was outside and into the first layer of trees, he stripped from his clothes and phased. He welcomed his wolf and allowed him to take over, pushing aside the emotions of the man. He shook out his fur and stretched out his legs and back. Then his wolf threw back his head and let out a long howl. All of the things that had bombarded him, all the human emotions warring within him, were pushed into that howl. He felt free after the howl died away—as though his mixed up emotions had been carried away on the wind, dissipating with the howl into the atmosphere—at least for a little while. He heard his pack brothers and sisters join in response and felt the comradery of their kind. Peace flowed in his soul as his wolf took comfort from their pack.
Drake tucked his hind legs down and then lunged forward. His powerful muscles propelled him much further than a natural wolf, and when his paws hit the ground, his motions were as smooth and effortless as breathing. The wind blew through his coat and cooled the rage inside of him. The familiar smells and sounds of the forest comforted him, not in the same way his true mate was capable of, of course, but comforting all the same.
Drake ran around fifteen miles, covering the distance in about twenty minutes, much faster than his natural brothers in the wild. Just when he was turning back toward the mansion, he felt her. She’d opened the bond enough that he could feel some of her emotions. She was tired. His feet stumbled as another wave of emotion hit him. She didn’t want to see him. Wow, talk about a knife to the heart, he thought. He didn’t know what she was thinking, because she wouldn’t let him in that far. But when he felt her mounting frustration and agitation begin to grow, Drake picked up his speed. He wouldn’t deal with things tonight. They were both too emotional and exhausted. But he wouldn’t stay away either.
By the time he’d made it back to the mansion, his wolf was much more relaxed, and the man felt much more reasonable, despite what he’d felt from Bethany. Drake found his shed clothes, dressed, and walked back inside toward the suite he was sharing with Bethany. As soon as he opened the door, her scent hit him, and the contentment he’d felt while running through the forest increased tenfold.
He closed the door quietly behind him and walked over to the bedroom door. It was closed— not a good sign. He pressed his ear to it and could hear her steady breathing. Drake desperately wanted to see her, wanted to hold her, but she’d made it perfectly clear that that is not what she wanted. So he would accept, for now, that she was safe in their suite and he could keep her safe. 
Drake eased onto the couch and laid back, letting out a tired sigh. There wasn’t much time left in the night so sleep would be short, but it would be better than nothing. With thoughts of his mate filling his mind, he let the call of sleep pull him under.
Chapter 10
“Just once it would be nice to hear, ‘You’ve got a month, Wadim. Take your time, Wadim.’ But no, it’s always, ‘twenty-four hours, Wadim, fifteen minutes, Wadim, figure out how to save the world right this second, Wadim.’ It’s like they think I just have the information stored in my butt or something. ‘What’s that, Peri? You need the entire history of the vampire/werewolf conflict in fifteen minutes? No problem, just pass me that laxative and I’ll be back before you know it.’ My next shirt needs to say, Before you ask, here’s your answer, right out of my ass! Picture of a donkey wouldn’t hurt.” ~Wadim
At some point over the last few hours, someone had snuck into the archives and poured sand into his eyes. Wadim was sure of it. The multiple monitors in front of him were beginning to merge blurring into one big blob of unhelpful information. He blinked several times and rubbed his eyes, hoping to chase away the sleep that kept threatening to overtake him. He was sure that Peri would finally make good on her threats to make a wolf-skin rug out of him if she came in and found him drooling on his keyboard. When that failed, he stood up and started doing jumping jacks, trying to get his blood pumping again. He made it to four hundred and fifty before he finally felt alert enough to sit back down and refocus.
His fingers worked diligently across the keyboard as he searched through the many archives that were his own personal kingdom. Many dated back hundreds of years, and, like Caesar at the height of the Roman empire, he wasn’t sure exactly how vast his kingdom was. There was simply too much ground to cover.
Tonight, however, he was focusing his efforts on a period of time stretching from the nineteenth century until the present day. Oceanside was on the east side of the continent, the first place to be settled by Europeans. Wadim hoped that he might save himself some time by narrowing his search to the early part of American history. Perhaps, some wolves had come over with the Pilgrims or other early explorers. If not, he’d have to delve into the history of the Native Americans…that would be like finding a needle in a needle-colored haystack.
“Blah, blah, blah, blah,” he droned as his finger hit the down arrow on the keyboard and the words scrolled up on the screen. He found nothing and his eyes were already starting to blur again.
“Nothing, nothing, noth—. Wait.” He paused and leaned forward as he backed his cursor up until he saw the sentence that had caught his eye.
The Missouri pack was established in 1850, but it did not grow strong in numbers until the early twentieth century. It was at that time that Tyler Reed took over the Alpha position. Reed challenged the previous Alpha, Robert O’Malley, who had become power hungry and dominant to the extent of being abusive to those in his care. Reed won the challenge and the pack thrived under his leadership, reporting no significant problems for decades. The peace lasted until the early 1900’s. During that time, an uprising occurred, led by a group of disgruntled supernaturals. The troublemakers were believed to be a collection of individuals representing several supernatural races that resented hiding their true nature while in the human realm. These individuals believed that their power and magic made them superior to the human race, and they sought to rule the human realm themselves. These ideas began to spread throughout the werewolf packs. Many wolves left their packs during this period. Some were never heard from again.The Missouri pack was one in which the rebel ideas seemed to hit particularly hard. Many of Reed’s pack mates were influenced by those seeking to overthrow the humans. Reed learned later that this group had given itself the name, The Order of the Burning Claw. While some believed that Reed should have dealt with these wolves more severely, he was a strong and just Alpha. He, therefore, gave the wolves who’d been swayed by the Order’s teachings a choice. They could renounce those teachings, be forgiven, and stay and live as part of the pack. Alternatively, they could leave the pack and serve the Order, but they could not do both.