Dawn Released

The books were the leather bound journals of the pack masters past. And on the walls had hung their portraits. Her father, her grandfather, her great-grandfather, her great, great-grandfather, and the generations before them to the very first Pack Master, the faces, the innermost thoughts of great men and women, the founders of her pack were gone. Burned to ash. The bastard was burning her history piece by piece.

Seff caught the hesitancy in Eloise's voice. He smelled the swirling blend of her anger and fear and it was a sweet, sweet essence tingling the back of his nose. Squashing the triumphant grin tugging at the corners of his lips, he watched her history go up in flames. He wasn't done with her yet. Otherwise, she'd be nothing but ash herself. He needed her assistance to stifle her pack.

Strangely or stupidly faithful to her, the pack resented his presence and fought his claim on them. If he weren't careful, they'd rebel against him. He needed numbers, not dead wolves. Numbers were power. Once these two packs became one solidified unit he'd be unstoppable. No one would be able to stand against him. And he'd have more power and wealth than even he could conceive. "Eloise, please make yourself welcome, after all, your home is my home," he said, relishing the words.

Eloise ground her molars at the free way he stated his claim to all that was hers and insinuated that he was already in control of her pack. "Thank you," she said with every bit of grace she could muster. She smoothly lowered her body into the chair. Seff was a master, or so he thought, of everything he surveyed. He'd strategically placed the chair to his left, symbolically indicating that she was inferior to him. Coolly, she eyed him and crossed her legs at the ankle. She kept her face a mask of indifference. As if it didn't matter in the least that he was burning everything she'd held dear and had sacrificed so much to keep. She would not show any emotion. She would bridle her tongue and her keep her outrage in check.

"I hear your daughter has chosen a mate." Seff took a sip of his wine, evaluating Eloise over the rim of the crystal glass. Eloise projected a cool, collected, and calm exterior. Her scent gave her away. He knew her tricks all too well. She manipulated. She planned and plotted. And apparently, she was not as in control as she thought. She never had been. She was a figurehead born into the title she held and as such as useless as a pretty decoration.

Oh, she'd killed to inherit the title. Her hands were not clean. The things daddies did for their little girls. If he'd been her father he would have slit her throat the day she was born and kept trying to procreate until a male worthy of the position had been born. In fact...he had. Torr was a firstborn male. But, he was not the firstborn he thought he was. Seff had held his daughter long enough to smother the life out of her before he handed her limp and lifeless body back to her mother. He'd done the same to the daughter that followed. He had no regrets. Such was the way of the world his ancestors had created. The sacrifice was a small price to pay for the bigger prize of the future.

"Yes, Jan is married," Eloise answered coolly. Seff was sure and confident. Certain that nothing was going to stand in the way of claiming what he wanted, especially her pack. Seff's was outwardly impeccable, as always. He didn't have to work at being the stunner he was. Dressed casually in pressed denim and a soft button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to expose his muscular forearms, he was the living, breathing representation of everything a man of breeding should be.

The denim fabric of his jeans clung to his muscular thighs like a second skin. The shirt, a soft, earthy shade of brown, stretched across his wide shoulders and added to the impressive width of his rock hard chest. He was a big and powerful male, one of the best of their species, precisely as he'd been bred to be.

Eloise saw Torr's likeness in his father's rugged features. Torr had the same dark, piercing eyes in an unpredictable shade that defied naming. Not one raven's wing colored hair was out of place. Seff preferred a neat style, combed to precision and stopping well above the collar as opposed to Torr's unruly tangle of waves. His tanned skin and high cheekbones and the wild, untamed aura of danger and power that surrounded him were a heady combination. And even in her hatred of him, she was not completely unaffected.

Yes, Seff was the picture of masculine beauty. And Torr, so much like him in outward appearance that the evidence of his mother's contribution to the genetic soup that made him was barely perceptible. Perhaps, Seff had found a way to clone the perfect likeness of him self. But, he'd missed the mark. Perhaps, Torr did have something of his mother in him even though it did not show on the exterior. He had something, and she did not think this thought lightly, she never would have believed he could possess. Something his father did not have and never would. Torr had a soul. And if his father found out how deep Torr's soul ran. Torr was every bit as much danger as she was. Possibly more.

"That is unfortunate. The youth of today, so rebellious, what is a parent to do? It is a shame that Jan did not embrace the destiny you had chosen for her. She would have made a fine mate for my son. They would have given us both many fine grandchildren. What a pity. Truly," Seff said with a tisk as he took a deep sip of the wine. "You will give her my best?"

"Certainly."

"I'd like to give her a gift." Seff set his wine glass on the marble topped table that separated his chair from Eloise's. Turning slightly, he leaned closer to whisper into her ear. Her skin prickled in response to her fear and the heat of his breath. "A wedding present, if you will." He smiled at the effect he had on her and casually settled back in the chair. She was terrified of him. Subdued by her fear.

"Your graciousness knows no bounds." Eloise choked out the words. Her wolf was agitated and unsettled by the lingering sensation of Seff's breath on her neck. She had no power. Her authority had been stripped from the walls and bookshelves and lay in smoldering ashes in the fireplace. Seff was keeping her alive, for now, because he had no choice. She was touched, deeply touched by the loyalty her pack had to her. But, she was not about to use their faith in her against them. She could lead the charge. What a waste of lives it would be though. Seff had her out maneuvered and outnumbered. With as many of the pack that had stayed faithful to her there were probably just as many or more who had not. She would not turn brother against brother. Not in a battle when the only outcome would be saving her own ass.

"I'm sure that Jan will appreciate the sentiment." Eloise bowed her head, stifling the roll of bile in the pit of her stomach. She had been in this room ten minutes and she was already nauseated by the game she played with Seff. If nothing else, she wished that he'd get to the point and be done with it.

"Ah, as am I. Eloise, a daughter needs her mother, don't you agree?"

"Of course," she answered hesitantly.

The fabric of his jeans made a light whispering sound as they slid across the camel hair upholstery. "Eloise," he said, leaning closer to the edge of his chair. The mocking regret etched on his features was laughable. "I could make sure that Jan and Kacie have their mother, for all time. But, I need your help to do that. Help me take control of your pack and I'll make sure that Jan and Kacie don't have to face an untimely and unfortunate loss." He smiled in a gracious grin showing a row of straight white teeth. "I think that's a most generous offer, don't you?"

"Are you suggesting that my life is in danger?" Eloise narrowed her eyes. Hatred for him welled inside of her. She was in a precarious position and she well knew it. He took advantage of the fact that she had not held up to her end of the bargain. He was holding her failure, her love for her daughters, and her duty to the pack over her head.

Guessing the outcome of another's life is a difficult thing. Seff and she had entered into a pact years ago. His firstborn son and her firstborn daughter betrothed to one another as teenagers. They were children and Seff and she had brokered away their lives, securing both of their futures and binding them as one. At the time, she'd thought she'd chosen a good life for Jan, a life of luxury and security. All Jan had to do was marry Torr and produce an heir. It had sounded like the perfect way to avoid a war between the two packs. At the time, perhaps it was. Everything had changed now and the war she'd sought to avoid was coming.

Tradition dictated that this was how things went and had been done for generations. Firstborn married firstborn. Except, for the fact that Jan had other ideas for what she wanted out of life. When she chose to marry someone else, the pact was broken. Eloise's life and the lives of her pack hung in the balance of her decision, dangling by a very thin thread.

"Eloise, you must understand that these are difficult times." Seff leveled his gaze. "Especially for you. There are some in the pack that welcome the change in leadership. They see your failure to fulfill your obligations as a weakness. I can't ensure your safety. If you don't help me, I can't help you."

"Can't or won't?"

Seff snickered, "Take your pick. The point is, Eloise. That you did not hold up to your end of the bargain. You failed to produce your daughter. I held up to my end of the bargain. Torr was more than willing to provide the pack with an heir. Your daughter, not only did she not fulfill her obligation. She insulted us, all of us, by choosing a human male over one of her own kind. I could have forgiven her transgression, if she'd chosen a worthy male from the pack." He shook his head, shaming Eloise. "But a human? That I cannot forgive. I must have my amends. My pack demands it. I demand it."

"And your son?" Eloise jumped to her feet, towering over him in a way that only a five-foot-four inches tall female in danger of not only losing her world but her life could. Trembling in cold rage, she wished she had the strength kill him. She wished she'd had the foresight to kill him over a decade ago. Before she'd made the damn pact.

The man Jan had picked was of more worth than Seff, Torr, and his whole damned pack put together. Thomas didn't have the pedigree. He didn't have the gift in his blood. But, he loved Jan with his heart and soul. He was willing to die for her. And as far as Eloise was concerned, his bravery meant more than a double helix of DNA and bloodlines. "I hear Torr has children, many of them. Half-breeds. Why not let the firstborn among them share in his inheritance?"

"Curs," Seff spat. Bastard children created by his son, worthless, half human-half werewolf hybrids, genetic misfits belonging to neither world, products of his son's idiocy. Embarrassments he'd already taken care of. Seff sprang from his seat, snatching Eloise by her elegant neck, dragging her across the fancy Persian rug, and slamming her hard into the rough brick exterior of the fireplace. "My son is not in question here."

Eloise tugged at the bulky fingers wrapped around her neck. Fighting the panic that rose up and spread along her limbs. The hard, rough, edges of the stone bit into her back. The world spun dizzily as he squeezed off her air supply. He needed her alive. He wasn't going to kill her. Yet. And that was the only surety she had to bank on.

Seff calmed the surge of anger boiling in his blood, opening and releasing his hold on her fragile neck. He stroked his fingertips across her cheek in a gesture that if someone didn't know better was almost affectionate. "Eloise, I will have your assistance or I'll have your head. The choice is yours. Don't take too long to think it over. I'm not a patient man." He patted her cheek and dropped his hand. Never letting his eyes leave hers, he spoke to his guards. "Assist Eloise safely to her home. See that she remains there until I summon her again."

Eloise sucked in a deep and painful breath. The sudden rush of breath chased away the dark spots in her vision. Coughing and sputtering, she grappled to keep her knees from buckling. There was no point in unleashing the tears burning her eyes. Seff's guards were little more than mindless thugs. Tears would not soften them or prevent them from doing their duty. Seff had already left the room before she completely regained her composure, leaving her to stand alone in the fading light of the ashes of her burned past.

Chapter 3

Nash snapped his cell phone closed. Neither Kacie nor Jan had anything new to tell him today. They had not heard from their mother. No one had since Eloise boarded that plane bound for Texas. His protective instincts reared to life. She could be in danger. Most likely, she was. His logical side battled long and hard with his instincts. Arguing reasonably that she knew the danger of leaving his territories and the protection of the pack. She'd made a choice to go. He didn't force her to. Rather, he tried to get her to stay.

He should have forced her to stay. Confined her if necessary. Whatever he had to do to keep her safe, he should have done it. She was out there alone, across the country out of his reach. He wanted to go after her. But, his presence on strange lands might put her in more danger than she already was. He had to consider that there was more at risk here than just her or just him. Lives depended on them both, and like her, he was bound to protect them.

Marianne frowned. She sensed the worry in her grandfather's thoughts. His face was a mask. His expression closed down tight like it did whenever he was engrossed with some inner conflict. She hated it when people thought she was too young to understand things and kept secrets from her. She wasn't a little girl anymore. She was twelve, almost thirteen years old. She knew a lot more than even her grandfather, who knew her almost as well as she knew her self, gave her credit for.

She walked through the woods by his side. Evenings were for her and her grandfather. A special slot of time they reserved for each other. The air was crisp and cool. The snow whispered gently beneath their footsteps. The sky was an ugly shade of gunmetal gray and thick with fat clouds blocking out what little sun there was. Winter was forever in this place of ice and snow. She looked for signs of spring and saw nothing but more snow. "Grandpa, do you think that the pack in Texas is friendly?"

"I don't know, Mouse." Nash stared down at the top of her head, tucked neatly inside a thick stocking cap. Her braids dangled from underneath and trailed over her shoulders. She was getting so big. Mature beyond her meager twelve years on this planet. Just last year, she barely cleared his waist, now her chin reached the bottom of his ribs.

Fate wasn't always fair. Unfortunately for Mouse, what destiny had in store for her was down right cruel. He was more attentive to her than he was to the other children. Every child was important, but she was special. Like he'd been born special and his father before him had been born special as well. Her future was bright and promising, and predetermined to be painful. One day, he didn't know when, but she'd take his place. He loved her deeply and was willing to die in sacrifice. But, he knew when the time came he'd fight. He didn't have that kind of control over his instincts. No wolf did. He'd fight for his life and his title to the death. His death. When the time came, he wouldn't have the heart to kill the little girl he'd molded into the woman she'd someday become.

The best he could do for the both of them was to love her, teach her to love, and shape her into the kind of leader she would need to be. Mouse was wickedly smart, but her intelligence had a hard edge to it bordering on ruthlessness. If left unchecked and allowed to evolve untrained. Her mind would override her heart and she'd become cruel. She was the legacy he planned to leave behind. And he was careful to ensure it was a worthy one.

Little Mouse had a way of knowing things, beyond what a little girl should know. A wisdom about her given to her by the goddess that gave her the ability to see through the fluff and puff adults tended to feed her to placate her endless questions. Maybe it was because they were so close, but she could see through him, down deep into the heart of him. She knew too much. She knew what one day she'd have to do. And the wheels of her mind were constantly turning to find a way out of it.

Marianne wrinkled her nose in disdain. She hated her nickname. Mice crapped where they ate. Mice carried diseases and were infested with lice. She was NOT a mouse. And there were times she could wring her brother's neck for giving her the nickname. "I think maybe they are. Kacie is nice. Catcher and Tracker are nice too. Is Kacie's mom nice?"

"Yes Mouse, Eloise is a nice lady." Nash rolled his eyes. Mouse was naturally inquisitive about the world around her. Sometimes, her questions bordered on intrusiveness. Usually, he didn't mind answering them. But, questions about his love life or lack of one were off limits. He snatched a stick off the ground and pointed to a short, spindly stubby tree. "What kind of tree is that? Look at the bark."

"A sassafras tree," Marianne dutifully answered. They weren't deep in the woods. The snow and mud made some of the hilly terrain impossible to traverse. They'd walked this trail at least a dozen times and their footprints were embedded deep into the frozen ground. Her grandpa talked trees and animal tracks. But, he really needed to talk about other things. She could feel the weight of his worry weighing on her shoulders as heavily if it were her own. "Grandpa, are you worried about Eloise. Are you thinking about going to Texas? Are you going to bring her back with you?"

"No, Mouse. I can't go to Texas. I'm sure Eloise is just fine. I've got a lot of things on my mind today, that's all." He pointed the end of his stick to another barren tree looming above them. The bark was patchy, peeling back and curling in long strips revealing white flesh under the loops of tough grayish tan bark.

Marianne snickered. Her grandpa was trying to distract her. She wasn't a dummy. Whenever an adult said they had things in their minds. It meant they were worried. Nonetheless, she played along and glanced at the tree. "A white ash."

Nash nodded in praise of Mouse's right answer. He looked up at the slate gray sky. Iron black clouds billowed and gathered on the edge of the horizon. A storm was building and gathering energy in the distance. He felt it deep in the marrow of his bones. By nightfall, the snow would start to fall, gently at first, then harder and harder, and it was going to be a hell of a storm. "Mouse, I think that's enough for today."

Marianne shivered in her knitted cap. The cold was a wet cold that seeped into her bones and stayed there. The thermometer on the back deck said it was thirty-four degrees. It shouldn't feel as cold as it felt. But, she wished she'd worn her snowsuit instead of the barn coat and jeans she had on. Going back inside was good. Tempted by the possibility of hot chocolate and actually feeling the tip of her nose again, Mouse abandoned her line of questioning. "Ok."

Toeing the snow with the tip of her boot, she looked for a sign of spring underneath. There wasn't a hint of green, just mud. Her grandpa said spring would come when it came. In other words, he didn't know when the winter would end either. She felt the storm, looming on the horizon and wondered if Eloise, so far away from here, saw the same storm. What the sky looked like from Eloise's vantage point or if it had already hit land.