Cry Wolf (Alpha & Omega #1)(42)
Maybe the opposite was true. Omegas have all the protective instincts of an Alpha, Asil had said. Could her wolf have taken over last night?
His father taught the new wolves that the wolf was part of them, just a series of urges that needed to be controlled. It seemed to help most of them in the transition phase. Scaring them by telling them there were monsters living in their heads would certainly not help them gain the control necessary to be allowed out into the wide world.
It was a useful fiction that, as far as Charles could see, sometimes was true. His father, for instance, seemed to blend seamlessly from wolf to human and back. But most of the wolves who lasted eventually came to refer to their wolves as separate entities.
Charles couldn't remember not knowing that there were two souls that caused his single heart to beat. Brother Wolf and he lived together harmoniously for the most part, utilizing the specialized skills of either for the sake of their goals. It was Brother Wolf who hunted, for instance-but if their prey was human or werewolf, it was always Charles who made the kill.
He'd seen over the years that the werewolves whose human and wolf were almost entirely separate-like Doc Wallace-usually didn't survive long. Either they attacked someone older and stronger than they-or Charles had to kill them because they had no control over the wolf.
A werewolf who survived learned to integrate human and wolf and leave the human in the driver's seat for the most part; except for when the moon called, when they were very angry...or when they were hurt. Torture a dominant, and the wolf came to the forefront. Torture a submissive, and you were left with the human.
With all the protective instincts of an Alpha and none of the aggression...and three years of abuse, maybe Anna's wolf had discovered a way to protect her. That would explain why Leo had never succeeded in breaking her.
Maybe when his aggression last night had frightened her, her wolf had come out to play. And maybe that was why their human souls hadn't bonded the way their wolves had.
Except that couldn't be right, because he'd have noticed if the wolf was in ascendance. Even if he somehow had overlooked her eyes changing from brown to pale blue, he'd never have overlooked the change in her scent.
Charles was pretty sure it was something that Leo had done to her, or had someone else do to her, that was the root of his current troubles.
Getting angry wasn't going to help with Anna, that much he could be certain of. So he pulled his thoughts from various ways he might torture Leo, who was, after all, already dead, and tried to think his way to a solution.
Charles was better at frightening people than removing their fear. He wasn't sure how to discuss this morning, last night, and the way their mating had not been completed without making things worse.
If matters didn't improve, he'd go to his father for advice...or Heaven help them all, Asil, again. If he explained everything in plain words, Asil might laugh at him, but he was too much a gentleman to leave Anna in trouble.
That left him with one more task. She needed to know that the other males would still feel free to offer themselves, because that was dangerous to her and anyone around him when someone tried.
And because she had the right to know that she might be able to accept one of those other males-at least that seemed to be Asil's opinion. Charles thought that once their wolves had bonded it was permanent-but he didn't know anyone who'd had that happen before their human selves had bonded. Maybe Anna could find someone who didn't frighten her as he seemed to.
* * * *
The Humvee was an artificial oasis, Anna thought. The heated leather seats and climate-controlled cabin seemed out of place in the endless expanse of still, frozen forest.
The dark, almost black, stands of evergreen trees stood out in stark contrast to the snow. Occasionally, roads, distinguishable more by the way they cut through the trees than by any vehicle track, branched off the highway they were traveling. As their road narrowed into a white scar between steep hills crowding in on both sides, she wondered if "highway" was the right word for it.
"Our mating bond didn't become permanent last night," he said out of the blue.
She stared at him, feeling the familiar flutter of panic. What did that mean? Had she done something wrong?
"You said that all we needed to do was..." She found she couldn't quite get the next few words out. In the cold light of day they sounded so crude.
"Apparently I was wrong," he told her. "I assumed since we'd gotten the most difficult part of being mated out of the way, all we needed was consummation."
She didn't know what to say to that.
"It is probably better," he said abruptly.
"Why?" She hadn't known if she'd be able to get out a word, but she sounded, to her ears, merely curious, none of the panicky feeling that had closed over her at his words evident in her voice.
But she didn't come anywhere near the disinterested neutrality he brought to his voice. "The main reason I didn't want to bring you with me today was that I didn't want you to see me kill again, so soon. But I've been my father's assassin for a hundred and fifty years; I don't suppose that will change. It's only fair that you see me clearly, when the hunt is upon me, before you choose."
The steering wheel creaked under the force of his grip, but his voice was still calm, almost detached. "In my father's pack there are a number of wolves who would worship the ground you walk upon. Wolves who are not killers." He sucked in a little air and tried to give her a reassuring smile-but it stopped somewhere short of effective since all it did was show strong white teeth. "They are not all psychotic."