Chapter 5 : The Beast of the West

*Gemma* The Hazel Coast and Sun Mountain packs had been at war for twelve years over what started as a simple land dispute. One year into that, Connor Herrick, only twenty-one at that time, killed his own father to claim the Alpha title to dictate the war against Alpha Syrus Morven. For a dozen years, they brought ruin to the West, decimating or conquering smaller packs, expanding their own borders for selfish, power-hungry reasons. I'd heard them be described as psycho or sociopaths who loved sacking villages and stealing females and pups from their homes just for fun. They made usurpers slaves or killed them in public executions. As far as I knew, Oceantide only sided with Sun and aided with Epsilon warriors because they were the lesser of two evils, which was really saying something. That was what little I was aware of. There were probably a hundred more issues and stories and sides. But the gist was that I'd just arrived in the household of the most sadistic Alpha to ever walk the earth. At least it wasn't Lynn. What did her own father gain from selling her to the rival of the pack they allied with? Raisa's voice had taken on an edge. "You can't show weakness here, Gemma, or there will be hell to pay for it. I will protect you as much as I am able, but I have others to take care of too—" "There's more?" I blurted. "More girls?" Her nod was grim. "I told you, it's more complicated than just giving Connor an heir." "He doesn't have one?" "He has five daughters," said Raisa darkly—and sadly, as if she mourned for them. "But he's yet to be given a son. I fear that is why you are here." "Why me?" My voice came out as a rasp. I cleared my throat and demanded, "Why me? Why from my tiny little town across an entire continent out of the entirety of Oceantide?" Raisa's look was flat. "Depends on who your father is. In war, sweet thing, us daughters are worth far less than money, protection, and power." So Raisa knew even less than anyone else about how Lynn had been sold. Did that mean only Alpha Connor knew who Lynn's father was and why he sold Lynn? How did they even get in communication in the first place? It was the least of my worries now. Raisa stood and padded over to the vanity where something red had been folded on the stool. She shook it out and held it up for me to see. "You're to wear this for him." I had a feeling that it was just as little fabric as Raisa's outfit. "After you bathe, of course. You looked like you were dragged all the way here." She didn't say it unkindly. Setting down the fabric, she took my hand and guided me behind the separation screen. "It's warm, I promise." I must have looked doubtful because she laughed and dipped her fingers in to flick me with water droplets. Indeed, they were warm. "You can't be shy here, sweet," Raisa told me as she produced a bar of soap from somewhere. Her eyes glanced down, and I got the hint immediately. "They look like a decent size," she said shamelessly. "We're both girls, so it's nothing we haven't seen before." "I've never been naked in front of another girl," I said hastily, taking a step back. Raisa knitted her brows like she didn't believe me before looking sympathetic. Her sigh was blessedly patient. "Then I'll let you scrub yourself." She handed me the soap and walked to the vanity stool, crossing her legs—even that was elegant. "You're not very in touch with your wolf side, are you?" she mused as I stripped quickly and climbed into the tub. "It must be clean in a continent not torn apart by war." I sank to my neck and breathed a sigh of relief. The tub was long enough to easily accommodate my whole body and the water was a perfect temperature. And after almost three days of sitting for hours or being pushed about, a bath was the ultimate form of bliss. After I dunked my head in, I obediently started to scrub with the soap that smelled like sea salt and lavender. "No," I admitted. "We don't have much need to but for training or sports. The pups shift far more than anyone else when they play. And…" I opened my eyes to look at the dark wood ceiling strung with cobwebs. Compared to what little I'd seen of the West so far, my little pocket in the East was paradise. Even with the stories I'd heard from my father, I couldn't piece together what life might be like if the only thing you knew was dust and ruin. Of course, that was making an assumption of Raisa. "It's alright," she said. "We know what we know, and then we are stripped from it. But we find our strength to survive when we know nothing." I cataloged that advice for later when I may need it. I finished soaping my nooks and crannies. Raisa handed me a towel to dry off. "Tie the towel and you and sit on the stool," she told me. I obeyed as she came up behind me to start to comb my hair. Staring at my reflection, I said, "I look like I got dragged to another continent." Raisa smiled with fond amusement. "I'd imagine you went through a lot to get here." "That's an understatement." Then her smile faded a little. "We take care of each other here, Gemma, as much as we can. Don't forget that." I tried to meet her eyes, but she was focused on working my hair into one thick braid that she wove a red ribbon through. After that, she dabbed red lipstick onto my lips and lined my eyes with black kohl. I'd rarely worn makeup, and when I did, it had never been this… sexy. Luckily, Raisa gave me a bra and underwear to salvage my modesty. She then helped me with the tangle of silk fabric that she called a dress. I preferred to call it what it was and what she wanted to spare me from saying: lingerie. When we both looked at the full-length mirror, my face was comically baffled while Raisa's was unabashedly proud. "You look delicious," she beamed. Despite my horror, I couldn't help but admire her work. I'd been transformed from a grimy-looking disaster to looking like I could stop a room in its tracks. That sounded overconfident, I laughed to myself. Really, I only needed to impress one male. The "dress" was two bolts of fabric draped over each shoulder and tied at the waist with a silver chain almost like a belt. My front was exposed from chest to navel, my sides completely bare, and when I twisted in the mirror, I found that my ass was barely covered. Thank the Moon Goddess for intimate wear. The last touch Raisa added was a black silk choker. "It is part of my job to make you look as desirable as possible. Another is, unofficially, to protect you, which includes warning you." She put me at arm's length, pinning me with her beautiful stare. "When you are with Connor, address him only as 'Alpha.' Bat your eyelashes, and say as few words as possible. He is prone to anger, so don't talk back. Be on your absolute best behavior. And most importantly, remember that your pack allied with his greatest rival." Considering the fact that I didn't know what was about to happen, her words terrified me. But I lifted my chin and nodded. That satisfied Raisa. "He likes to preen, so sneak in a compliment here and there, but keep it minimal." There was a knock on the door. "It's time." Raisa's expression smoothed into refined indifference. If she had white hair and blue eyes, I'd swear she was the Moon Goddess herself. She unbolted the door. A tiny female stood with feet together and hands clasped in front of her wearing an actual dress that covered every inch of her skin except for her hands and neck. She kept her eyes downcast. "Follow me to the overlook, please." I looked back at Raisa. She nodded encouragement and squeezed my shoulder. "I'll see you for breakfast." *** I followed what I assumed to call a servant down a maze of different hallways until we abruptly turned into a room just over half the size of the foyer. At the other end of the room was a long, slightly curved wall made entirely of floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the bluff. It was evening now, and the room was awash in blue-purple light that mingled with the gas lamps ringing the walls. In front of the windows were a lounge couch and a side table with a candle whose wax permeated the air with the same scent as the soap: sea salt and lavender. "Sit," the servant ordered softly but firmly, giving me a little shove. "When he comes, stand and bow at the waist to greet him." I stumbled forward out of surprise, and when I looked back out of protest, she had already left and closed the door. I was alone. But I sat on the chaise anyway because I could see the ocean. Its gray-blue waters were calm and still, unlike the one I knew that was turquoise and always rolling with gentle waves. Its beach was black sand, not the white that I loved. I wasn't alone for long. The door slammed open. I lurched to my feet and spun on my heel, ready to bow and graciously address him as Alpha, but before I could do either, a harsh hand grabbed my chin and yanked my face up. No textbook or newspapers I had read had any pictures of Connor Herrick or Syrus Morven, but my imagination had conjured up a harrowed, scarred face, long greasy hair, and a body clothed in pelts and wolf teeth pried from the mouths of his enemies. The name Beast of the West itself didn't inspire many positive features. I didn't expect a male so godly handsome that it took my breath away. No, he was like some dark twin of the Moon Goddess. His hair was as black as the sand on the beach, just above shoulder-length, half of it pulled back, bristles shaved in clean lines above and below his severe jawline, brows and lashes dark and dense. His upper lip was peeled back over white teeth, half-shifting his canines to be longer and thicker like his wolf form's. He did have scars: three long, ropey lines from his temple and ear diagonal across his cheek to the side of his throat. Claw marks. But they only enhanced his rugged beauty. And the Beast's eyes? Oh, those were something to behold. They were hazel as his pack was so named for, but the flares of gold around the specks of green were more vivid than a sunset. They were captivating eyes, dangerous eyes, because they didn't hold back the well of emotions within him. They pinned me where I stood, looking me up and down like a predator surveying his prey, before growling, "You're not who I was promised." It was the deepest voice I'd ever heard, seeming to reverberate through my bones, just like the dread that shivered down them. Then he shrugged his shoulders. "But you'll do nonetheless." Pinching my chin between his thumb and forefinger, he turned my head this way and that. I was fine with that, but when his hands went straight to my breasts, I instinctively snarled and swatted him away. Connor Herrick observed me flatly but his mouth was curved in a way I could only describe as poisonous. "Don't be afraid of me, plaything. You're mine now." "Plaything?" I repeated in a bark before I could stop myself. His voice was a sensual purr. "Yes." He stalked forward while I stepped backward. "That's why you're here." Raisa's warnings played in my head, but if I didn't say anything, it would only paint me as nothing but meek and submissive. I wouldn't be that. "I don't know why I'm here," I said, my back hitting the glass. I used it to lean on, crossing my arms and legs casually. "Can you tell me?" Connor had to be over six feet tall. He stopped when we were chest to chest—rather, my chest level with his midsection—and tilted his chin down to meet my gaze. I held them defiantly, refusing to look away first. He quirked his head in curiosity, narrowing his eyes, mouth frowning. "I like it when my things talk back. It's… amusing." He jerked his chin. "Go on. Say something. You've got a lot on your mind." I bit my cheek, the reasonable side of me knowing I really should just keep my mouth shut, but what would he do if I didn't say anything at all? "I'm tired," was what I landed on. A muscle in his jaw feathered. "No. I sense your irritation. Say something as defiant as your glare." "Fine," I dared. "I don't want to be here." Connor's sensuous mouth curled back into a smile. "Don't worry, you'll come to like it." He brushed my braid over my shoulder, rough fingertips skimming my throat. His gaze burned wherever it landed, and when he met my eyes again, I thought I'd burst into flames. "I'll make you like it, break you if I have to, no matter how long it takes for your defiance to crack."