Savage Urges (The Phoenix Pack, #5)(22)

“I’ll be at the mediation meeting,” Ryan rumbled.

Was he high? “You can’t go. You don’t work for the shelter.”

“No, I don’t,” he conceded, “but I can be there as part of Shaya’s security team.” Mediators always had bodyguards.

Jaime nodded. “That would work. Our pack and Shaya’s are closely allied with each other through a blood bond—we even share enforcers. It wouldn’t be considered strange for him to be there.”

Before Makenna could say that Ryan shouldn’t get so heavily involved, Dawn smiled at him and said, “Thank you, Ryan. I’ll feel better knowing that my girls and I will be safe in the event of a fight.”

Ryan gave a “you’re welcome” grunt in response.

Taryn glanced at her watch. “We should get back. My son is probably driving the others crazy, especially my mate.”

Dawn chuckled, though her eyes still glinted with worry. “You get back to your mate and pup.”

Ryan rose to his feet. “I want to see Zac first.”

“Of course you do. He’ll be glad to say good-bye.” Dawn once again expressed her thanks to the Phoenix wolves for their help as she and Madisyn then led them back into the shelter.

As he turned to go inside, Ryan noticed that Makenna hadn’t moved from the bench. “Not coming to protect Dawn from us?” Her head whipped to face him. Oh yeah, he knew she didn’t fully trust them. He even understood it. His wolf didn’t like it, though; he wanted her trust, believed it was his due.

“Madisyn’s with her. That girl’s tougher than I am.”

He doubted that.

“Have a safe journey.”

The dismissive comment rubbed him up the wrong way. “You still haven’t told me your real name or how you ended up here.” Okay, those words came out snappier than he’d intended. There was his lack of tact again.

“Because it’s not your business, White Fang.”

Ryan stood in front of her, meeting her bold “I f*cking dare you to push me” gaze that for some perverse reason, caused his body to tighten. “I’m making it my business.”

Bristling, she cocked a brow. “Oh, is that f*cking so?”

It was f*cking so. “No pack has the right to cast out a pup. They should pay for it.”

Her suspicions were right, reflected Makenna. Protecting and defending were imprinted in his bones. “They will. Karma will see to that.”

Yeah, he’d be the karma she was referring to. “Just give me the name of your pack.”

“You’re a stubborn son of a bitch,” she said without heat. With anyone else, she might have thought he was pushing this merely because—like most dominant males—he didn’t like to be told no. But she sensed it was more than that. It was almost like he had this need inside him to be productive, to be useful, like he had something to prove to either himself or others.

“Just concentrate on Zac,” she told him. “Right now, he needs you.” A long moment of silence passed, but there was no way to tell what was going through his head. She’d never before met anyone who was such an expert at controlling their emotions. There was little of it in his voice, eyes, words, or outward demeanor. His body language was reserved; he never fidgeted, never evaded eye contact, never rambled or stammered. Hell, she had more success understanding his grunts.

Sensing that she wasn’t going to budge, Ryan decided to bide his time. He’d get his answers eventually. “Remember to call me if there’s a problem.” With that, he left.





CHAPTER SIX





The crack of a whip on his back. Rope abrading his wrists. White-hot pain as claws stabbed deep in his side. Rage and hatred pumping through his veins. The burn of the hot iron rod. Voices questioning, laughing, taunting. Ice-cold water hosing him down. The drill going through his hand. The sting and burn of salt and red pepper being rubbed into his wounds. The smell of sweat, blood, anger, corruption, and—

Ryan bolted upright in bed, panting and caught up in the fury that had clouded his thoughts all those years ago. His wolf, who had woken with a bestial growl, finally settled in his pacing as he realized it had been no more than a nightmare. Ryan didn’t have them often anymore. Once every six months, at most. They were always the same: broken, distorted snapshots of memory.

After Trey had gotten into an argument with the Alpha of a rival pack, Ryan had been kidnapped, kept prisoner, and tortured by them for information that he didn’t give.

Although the Linton Pack had plenty of questions, Ryan didn’t believe their need for information had been the primary reason for the torture they had inflicted on him. They had done it because they got off on it. The Alpha, in particular, had been a sadistic bastard.

It hadn’t been just the torture that pushed Ryan so near to the end of his endurance. It had been the sense of helplessness, of being out of control and unable to defend himself. His wolf had been chomping at the bit, furious that he’d been injected with drugs that prevented him from shifting and tearing his captors apart.

Ryan had known that his only chance of escaping would be to cross over the knife edge of feral, giving his animal total control. He’d known that the extra speed and strength would enable him to fight the f*ckers. But he’d also known that if he did that while he was so enraged and no more than an animal in mind and heart, he could possibly turn rogue.