Raised by Wolves(78)

Jaws should have been snapping. Bodies should have been pinned to the ground. Heads should have been bowing, blood should have been spilled, and one man should have ruled them all.

That was what the wolf inside of Chase said. That was the only conclusion supported by the pulsating, electric, lethal undertone in this room.

“I take it this is the boy?”

Chase took two steps back. Wolf wanted to come out. We had to get out of there.

No, I said softly, finding my own voice in Chase’s thoughts. Keep your head angled at forty-five degrees to the ground, but stand up straight. Don’t back down, don’t challenge. Don’t even move.

There wasn’t another wolf within a mile of Callum’s house at the moment. The power in this room would have been too much for them, and the Senate didn’t deal with packs. The alphas didn’t touch wolves that weren’t theirs. So why had they called for Chase?

“Come in,” Callum said evenly. Chase could have resisted the order. He was mine more than he was Callum’s, but I echoed the sentiment. Step forward. Keep your head tilted downward, but don’t look at the ground. Look at Callum. Keep your mouth closed. Whatever you do, don’t show your teeth.

The closer we got to Callum, the more we could feel the others, prowling just outside our thoughts. They didn’t push. They didn’t attack. But they were there.

“He isn’t Rabid.”

For a second, the voice sounded so like Devon’s that I wondered if he was pulling a ventriloquist act from somewhere in the depths of Callum’s house. And then I realized—

Shay.

“He hasn’t Shifted yet, which means he has more control than most young ones. Impressive, Callum.”

There was something irreverent in Shay’s words, a tone that told me that Shay remembered being under Callum’s rule and wanted everyone else to forget it. In his own domain, Shay was king, but here, he was young, foolish, and couldn’t hold a candle to Callum’s years, his experience, or his power.

Perfectly contained. Understated. Overwhelming. That was Callum.

Bubbling, roaring, biting at the bit. That was Shay.

“Chase.” Callum’s words brought our eyes to his, and inside of Chase, I almost flinched. If I’d been me instead of Us, I would have.

I knew those eyes. I knew Callum. And he knew me.

Bryn.

I felt the call. I wanted to respond but didn’t. I wasn’t Callum’s anymore. He couldn’t tell me what to do. I wasn’t even sure if he knew I was there, or if he simply saw me every time he looked at Chase, thought about me almost as much as I thought about him.

There was no room for questions like these in a room full of the most dominant wolves in North America. We had to stay in control.

“Callum.” It was Chase’s voice and Chase’s response. I guided his body language, but I couldn’t guide his words. I couldn’t respond to the look in Callum’s eye or wonder what it meant.

“The Senate would like you to describe the Rabid, his attack, and your recovery.” Callum didn’t phrase the words as an order. He kept his voice low and soothing, but I saw the way the other alphas’ eyes lit up at the question. They had a vested interest in finding out more about this Rabid, about what had happened to Chase.

Sandstone and fish. Cedar and sour milk. Ocean salt and sulfur.

Their scents flooded Chase’s senses, making it hard for him to concentrate on anything else.

Don’t let your lip curl up. Don’t growl. Don’t show your teeth, I told him.

He didn’t, but inside him—inside Us—his wolf was awake and ready. It wanted to take control. I wouldn’t let it.

Wolves, it argued back. Not Pack. Protect girl.

If my presence here caused Chase to lose it, I would never forgive myself, so I channeled everything I had into keeping him calm. Soothing his wolf. Guarding his mind as his story spilled in monotone from his lips.

The alphas asked questions—more detailed questions than I’d ever thought to ask. What was the length of the duration of the attack? How long had Chase lain on the pavement before Callum’s wolves had found him and brought him back? Did he have any insight into how he’d managed to survive? How did he guard his mind from the Rabid? Did the Rabid ever take control of his physical body? Had it ever asked him to attack Callum? Could that happen?

No, Chase explained. Callum had brought him into the pack and trained him to use his pack-bond to guard against the Rabid’s psychic advances. Chase refrained from mentioning that I’d manipulated that bond, that I was the one who chased away the Rabid’s presence in his dreams now.

Finally, the questions stopped. One of the alphas, the one who smelled like sea salt, had the last word. “You’ve done well with him, Callum. You’re a strong boy, Chase, and you’ll been an even stronger man. Stone River is lucky to have you.”