42: The Price of Loyalty

Quincy St. Martin

On the stage, Alpha Maddox is talking. Behind him stands his second- and third-in-command, Beta St. Martin and Delta Roche, and also his father, old Mr. Maddox.

I don’t know if they gave me more drugs, but my head feels fuzzy and heavy and my movements sluggish and lethargic. I find myself studying the stage as Alpha Maddox’s words barely register in my brain.

The stage is made of crude and uneven stones, making it look like it’s a part of an ancient ruin. For all I know, it might have been. Fires roar in two stone fire pits on either side of the stage. The gathering crowd forms a half circle in front of the stage.

I’m standing away from everybody else, near the stage, next to one of the raging fires.

Earlier on, they bathed me, washed my hair, and scrubbed me clean. Then they dried me and rubbed lavender-scented oil all over me. They brushed my hair till it shone and wove tiny white flowers in it like a coronet. They dressed me in a white chiffon gown with a lace edge that reaches my knees. The sheer lace sleeves flare out to my elbows. They slipped my feet into white satin ballet flats. I feel like a virgin sacrifice to be offered at the altar of the monsters.

The moon is hidden behind thick, dark clouds. The cold wind is picking up speed, blowing and whipping my hair around, seeping through the thin material of my gown.

I stare at the scene in front of me like I’m watching my own worst nightmare unfold. I feel strangely detached, like I’m watching someone else standing in the middle of the woods, surrounded by werewolves. Monsters who hate me.

They are all watching me. Some surreptitiously. Some blatantly. Some with clear hate in their eyes. As much as I want to believe that this is just another nightmare I could wake up from, the crackling and popping sound of the burning wood, the sparks flying up into the night air, the thick, musky smell of smoke, the heat of the fire on one side of my body, and the cold night air biting at my skin on the other, all seem too real.

My eyes slowly scan the crowd. I encounter several openly hostile eyes, but I keep looking. I only want to find Jorden. I haven’t seen him since our last conversation. Where is he? I know my cousin wouldn’t leave me here all alone on purpose.

Even if he couldn’t help me, he’d be here in the crowd just so that I’d have a friendly face to look at. Did they do anything to him?

The heat of the fire on my side isn’t enough to chase away the chill that creeps into my bones.

I watch Beta St. Martin’s face for a clue of his son’s whereabouts. He wouldn’t be standing there looking ruthless and cold as usual if his son is hurt or killed, would he?

Right now, the face that’s staring back at me is full of hatred. Just like everyone else’s, or maybe more so. I hear my name being mentioned by Alpha Maddox, and his father, old Mr. Maddox, steps forward with a smirk on his face.

“I would like to present to you my father’s second mate, Quincy St. Martin,” says Alpha Maddox in a booming voice.

I’m dragged up the stage by two big men who suddenly appear by my side. They stand me right next to old Mr. Maddox’s side. He places a possessive arm around my shoulders.

I try to squirm away, but his grip tightens, his nails digging into my flesh painfully.

“Stop trying to fight me in front of my pack, or I’ll mark you and show you your place right here, right now,” he growls into my ear.

I stop struggling and scan the crowd again. I can see better from here. I still can't see Jorden anywhere, but I spot Trey, Jorden’s best friend, standing silently in the crowd. He and Jorden helped me escape the last time. He’s staring at me, but I can’t tell anything from his face that’s mostly in the shadows.

“If you’re looking for your cousin to save you again, he’s not here,” old Mr. Maddox whispers in my ear as he hauls me off the stage. “He’s rotting away in the cell underneath the pack’s house until we decide what to do with him.”

Then he drags me back to the pack house himself.

***

“Quincy St. Martin,” he says, turning to face me once he has locked his bedroom door. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to claim you,” he announces as he advances toward me.

“You’re a vile man,” I tell him as I force my heavy feet to walk backward.

Old Mr. Maddox laughs and continues on as if I didn’t say anything. “I remember the first time I noticed you. I saw you with your Nana on our annual Bake Sale Day. Big curious green eyes, red lips, and soft skin. You had red ribbons in your hair. I knew then what a beauty you were going to be. The best part is you’re a human, so there’s little chance that other men will claim you as their mate.”

I remember the day he’s talking about. I was just twelve, and he was still an alpha. I had always enjoyed going to the pack’s Bake Sale Day. So many baked goods. But that was the last time Nana ever took me to Loup Noir Pack’s Bake Sale Day. Actually, that was the last Loup Noir Pack event that Nana ever took me to.

I look up into his dark eyes, and I realize. My Nana knew! He gives me a big sly smile. His lips are quivering behind his thick mustache.

An unpleasant chill runs down my back, and I feel my heart breaking all over again. Now it’s lying open in pieces, but something else is happening inside of me.

“You killed my Nana,” I say as my back hits the wall, and I have nowhere else to go.

“Oh, Quincy,” he sighs, stopping not even a foot away from me. He’s so close I can smell something unpleasant mixed with cigars and bourbon on his breath.

“You’re too clever for your own good…just like your Nana.”

Hatred. Hatred and fury. I’ve never felt such strong feelings before, but I'm feeling them now. It burns in my chest, making the rest of me feel numb.

“Why?” I ask him. My voice sounds dead.

“Your eighteenth birthday was coming up. I didn’t have much time, you see. I went to see her and proposed an arrangement that would be…beneficial for all of us. But she outright rejected me. She tried to throw me out of her little house and refused to listen. What was I to do?”

I remember being called to the principal’s office. It was the last day of school. They had told me that my Nana was no more. They had said it was a heart failure. I didn’t get to see her, and they took her body away. They said they’d take care of everything.

I don’t remember anything else after that except for walking into the house I grew up in, still full of her scent and memory. They told me to pack my stuff and move to the pack house. My whole world crumbled that day, and it hasn’t been the same since.

“So you killed her,” I whispered, knowing the truth.

“I moved an obstacle out of the way,” he said.

So my Nana was merely an obstacle to be destroyed on a whim.

“I moved you to the pack house so I could keep a closer eye on you while I waited until you turned eighteen to claim you, but then you went and upset my plan by running away. But that’s—”

“How did you kill her?”

He moves closer and places a big furry hand on my face. “I snapped her neck,” he says casually as he curls his hand around mine. “You have the same neck as hers. So slender and…fragile.” The threat in his voice is unmistakable. “Don’t worry. I made it quick. She didn’t suffer much.”

“Too bad I’m going to make your death a painful one,” I inform him.

He breaks into laughter, as if I’m telling him a joke. His thumb digs into my throat a little bit like a warning.

“A weak little human but so beautiful and fiery. Just the way I like it. I’m going to enjoy breaking you.”

A distant thunder rolls at his words like a bad omen.

“Once I mark you, you’ll be mine. You’ll be tied to me for the rest of our lives. You won’t be able to run from me again.” Without further warning, he fists my hair and angles my head sideways. He swoops down, and I feel his teeth and canines sink into my neck.