ARYCK returned to camp chafing under his father’s edict to stay away from Rebekka. His insides felt raw, shredded by Jaguar clawing and his own frustration.
Not for the first time, he worried about what she might be thinking. He’d been gone much longer than he intended.
No sign of disease or proof of human involvement had been found. He’d managed to draw out both Coyote and Hyena enforcers, and both had held off attacking in favor of listening to his thoughts on the wisdom of alliance. But had he known so much time would pass, he would have paused long enough to get word to Rebekka before leaving camp.
Now the delay stretched longer out of necessity. It couldn’t be helped.
Aryck rubbed his hand over his bare chest, trying to smooth away the misgiving building there. He turned onto the trail that would take him to Nahuatl’s cabin.
The shaman was outside, pulling a deer hide from a soaking barrel and placing it flesh side up on a flat table. “You wish to speak to me about the healer,” Nahuatl said, choosing a knife and putting the back edge against the skin, skudding away the dirt and fatty tissue that still remained after the initial scraping.
Aryck bridled, though he’d expected his father’s interference. “The alpha told you I believe the ancestors want her to remain here, as my mate?”
“He told me.”
Aryck’s heart tripped into a fast, pounding beat. Even the Jaguar, for all its confidence, felt nervous about stepping into a realm where allies and enemies could be neither embraced nor fought. There was risk involved in approaching the ancestors directly, which was why most sought out the shaman rather than chance being made outcast, or gain an answer but at the cost of taking on a task named by the ancestors.
For Rebekka he would take the risk. “I wish to go through a Petitioner’s Rite.”
Nahuatl looked up from the hide. “It will gain you nothing. Because it suited them, the ancestors have spoken on the matter.”
Aryck’s uneasiness heightened. “And their answer?”
“If you wish to make her your mate and have her remain here, they will judge her as they would an outcast, through Rite of Trial. If they find her worthy, then they will mark her as pack.”
“My father knows this?”
Nahuatl laid the knife aside and picked up the hide, taking the few steps necessary to submerge it in a barrel of water warmed over a low fire. “Yes.”
Aryck turned away, his thoughts in turmoil, his chest tightening as he imagined Rebekka going through the ritual preparation that included three days of fasting in seclusion followed by a full day of purification in a sweat lodge built near the entrance to the cave where the bones of the dead were placed.
There were stories told of Weres who survived the trial, but in Aryck’s lifetime he’d stood witness once as a child and once as pack enforcer, watching as an outcast emerged naked from the sweat lodge at sunset and willingly entered the cave to withstand the torment of the ancestors until the sun rose.
One of the outcasts never left the cave. His body rotted and his bones joined those of the pack dead.
The other met his death underneath the night sky. Killed by those gathered as witnesses when he fled the cave in terror.
Aryck rubbed at the ache centered in his chest, fought against the fear whispering through him, that he was doomed to lose her—to Oakland and the outcasts or to death.
The thought of leaving his father’s pack and starting his own flickered in his mind but found nothing to hold it there. Without the sanction of the ancestors, who would follow a Were with a human mate? And without a pack, there was no way to carve out territory and defend it.
Aryck came to a place where the paths crossed. The instinct to return to his cabin until he’d found a solution, something to offer Rebekka beyond a message saying he was forbidden to be in her presence, was strong. But worry over what she might be thinking in his continued absence was stronger.
He couldn’t risk going directly to Phaedra’s cabin. In all likelihood Rebekka would be there.
Aryck headed toward the clearing where pack members gathered as a community. Melina was there among several suitors.
As soon as she saw him she left the other males, coming to him smelling of sex and satisfaction, though he doubted she’d let any of the other males penetrate her vaginally and fill her channel with seed. This deeply into heat, she wouldn’t risk being mated to a beta male.
When she would have rubbed against him, the Jaguar rose in Aryck’s eyes, reminding her of the promise made in the Barrens. Anger joined the other scents pouring off her. Aryck wondered what it would take for her to move on and hunt for a mate among the males of a different pack.
A smirk marred features he’d once thought beautiful but that no longer held any interest for him. “I don’t know why I still want you after you’ve been with that whore. Fucking a human is revolting, though I guess you’re not alone in that perversion. She was quick enough to go to the Lion outcast when he came sniffing around for her.”
The Jaguar erupted in possessive fury, becoming a distinct entity and trying to force the change so it could savage Melina and then hunt down the outcast and slay him.
Aryck’s emotions matched the outraged jealousy of the beast, melding human and Jaguar souls together a heartbeat after they’d separated.
He retreated to the forest, recognizing he was too dangerous, too volatile, to question Melina or anyone else about Rebekka.
He seethed. Cursed. Snarled in rage and defiance and frustration, only barely aware of his surroundings as he walked.
Images superimposed themselves one over another. The closeness he’d witnessed between Rebekka and the Lion in the Barrens and as they’d traveled. Their quiet conversations and easy touches.
On the heels of reality came tormented imaginings, of Rebekka and Levi together, their bodies joined, slick with sweat as they strained toward release.
Aryck’s fingers flexed, phantom claws emerging. She was his and he wouldn’t let her go without a fight.
The resolve cooled the rage boiling through him, allowing him to glimpse the pain underneath before he brought his emotions under control.
With a start he realized he was well on his way to Lion territory. He kept moving forward, his father’s command replaying in his mind, providing an opening for him to do as he pleased and go to Rebekka.
The alpha had forbidden contact while on Jaguar lands. He’d warned against loss of pack and position if Aryck followed her to Oakland.
There was nothing to prevent him from going to Lion lands. And given the need to speak to their enforcer about alliance among the Weres, he had every reason to go there.
Those thoughts blocked all others for a mile. But slowly, with each step, truth chiseled away at them, exposing them as rationalizations and sickening Aryck so his skin crawled and became clammy.
He stopped, touching his forehead to the smooth maroon-colored bark of a madrone tree and closing his eyes. A breeze swept over him, emphasizing the chill at his core.
This was the path to being made outcast. Not the desire for a human mate, but the slippery twisting of words so he could justify his actions even as he knew deep down he was violating a trust.
The alpha’s will was pack law, and though his father hadn’t specifically forbidden him from being with Rebekka on Lion lands, the intent behind Koren’s edict was clear.
Frustration and longing and the sharp-edged threat of returning jealousy made Aryck push away from the tree. He turned back toward Jaguar lands and a second confrontation with his father.
Koren was waiting for him in the same place they’d argued the day before. His arms hung loosely at his side, his expression grim and his feet bare.
“Rebekka is in Lion lands,” Aryck said, more statement than question.
“Yes.” An image came with the answer, the outcast’s arms enfolding her while tiny tremors wracked her body as though she cried in joy at being reunited with him.