Cursed By The Pack Lord

2

Chapter

Two

After the best bath in the history of baths, I crawled into bed naked. I didn’t have enough clothes to waste on sleeping in them, especially when I was down to three shirts, a pair of denim shorts, and two pairs of jeans. I’d be living light until I could hit some thrift stores.

By the time my head hit the pillow, I was crashing so hard that I was out for almost twenty-four hours. Once or twice a month exhaustion forced me into a deep sleep. As a rogue, it wasn’t safe to leave myself so vulnerable, but I hoped my wolf would alert me to any true danger.

When she piped up, just as I opened my eyes, screaming danger danger danger at me, I thought she was commenting on my trust in her, until I heard the scrape of shoes on the pavement.

I jumped off the bed and was hit with the earthy scent of shifters. Holding desperately to my panic, which would debilitate me, I yanked on athletic shorts and a tank with an inbuilt bra. With my duffle bag in hand, I raced on light feet toward the window, thanking the goddess when the flimsy screen lifted easily. On the breeze the musky scent grew stronger, indicating there was more than one shifter outside.

Fear and annoyance hit simultaneously as I cursed my rookie error in parking my bike beside the hotel and not out the back. Now I had no other option except to run and hope I found a bike to hijack on the way.

As I threw myself out of the window, my wolf stirred. Stay with the pack.

No! I cried in a panic. Pack is not for us.

After everything I’d done to remain out of the pack cities, my one encounter with that alpha in Florida had f****d it all up. I’d known he was a tracker, and he’d clearly followed my path, even as I fled across multiple state lines.

The hotel door was kicked open as I rolled across the loose gravel outside. I felt a few cuts and nicks from the fall, but even my weaker shifter healing would kick in soon, and I was no stranger to pain. It wouldn’t slow me down.

Sprinting like my life depended on it, I took as many side roads as possible, while keeping an eye out for a bike. I managed to make it almost back to the street I’d first parked in, when a rumble echoed from behind me, growing in intensity until it filled my chest.

They’d sent a powerful alpha after me, but his dominance wouldn’t stop me—provided I remained out of reach. Rough ground bit into my feet, which spurred me on harder.

It wasn’t enough, though, as strong arms wrapped around me.

I was fighting before we hit the ground, but the much larger shifter didn’t pull any punches, slamming the full force of his weight into me. I was tall for a woman, standing five-eleven in bare feet, but his frame completely engulfed mine as we went down together. “Stay the f**k down, rogue,” he growled, slamming me against the ground again.

Twisting as I was taught when pinned by a larger opponent, I managed to get my hands under me only to be slammed down once more. My skull cracked the ground, and everything went dark.

Warmth surrounded me as my awareness returned, and I had a second to bask in the semi-conscious glow before I remembered exactly what had happened.

Shifters found me. I was truly in the hands of the packs for the first time.

I’d been on the run with mom until I was four, and even when she met the Rogers pack, we’d lived outside the cities. She’d died when I was fourteen, and although I’d managed to make it on my own for eleven extra years, that luck had come to an end.

Needing to assess the danger nearby, I kept my eyes closed and slowed my breathing. My skull throbbed faintly, but whatever damage was done by the alpha had almost healed.

I sensed at least two shifters in the room, giving off the faintest scents of citrus and soap bubbles. But the clean, non-chemical versions.

“Are you sure she’s an omega?” The deep voice almost startled me into revealing I was awake.

They know my designation. Which was more terrifying than anything else happening in this room. “She ignored an alpha call twice,” another, smoother toned male replied. “Does she feel strong enough to be more dominant than Alpha Brandon or Davison?”

As an omega, my dominance was all but nonexistent. My strength lay in other areas, areas that made me valuable to a pack. Just like Mom.

A fact that had eventually destroyed her miserable life.

“How has she managed to stay off our radar?” the first shifter asked, sounding confused that anyone could outrun the big, bad pack cities. “Do we know how old she is?”

His question gave me a flicker of an idea. I looked younger than my twenty-five years, which could work to my advantage. Rogues were generally put to death—they didn’t allow any shifter to remain unbonded from a pack, and my number of years on the run would squarely cement me as unsalvageable. Except if they offered leniency due to my younger age.

“It really doesn’t matter,” the smoother voice said. “She needs to go before the Alpha Council either way.”

A firm hand pressed against my chest, and my eyes jerked open to bring a brawny male into view. He didn’t look much taller than me, but he was twice the width with hard brown eyes and tousled brown hair. “Your heartrate changed a few seconds ago,” he said in the gruff voice. His wolf shifted behind his eyes briefly, and I noted that he didn’t carry alpha energy, but was a strong beta. “You’re only delaying the inevitable.”

Knocking his hand off me, I quickly pulled myself up to a sitting position. A glance around revealed that I was in what looked like a hospital with white walls and a twin bed.

“Where have you taken me? What city?” I rasped through a throat that felt drier than a desert.

The beta sat in a chair beside the bed, and never took his gaze off me. The other shifter remained near the door, and I didn’t bother to glance his way.

The threat was right at my side.

“You’re in Golden Claw, awaiting trial in front of the council.”

Golden Claw… I’d been out for hours, maybe longer, depending on how they’d transported me here from New Mexico.

“Why am I on trial?” I’d already decided to stick with my plan of playing young and dumb.

The beta shook his head, as if I’d disappointed him. Too f*****g bad. “Rogues are outlawed. You’re uncontrollable, and a danger to the human population. If you were unaware of that for a reason, you’ll have a chance to plead your case to the council. Start working on your story now.” When his lips twitched, it was clear he thought I was full of s**t, and not for the first time I wished my face wasn’t so expressive.

I wasn’t a great liar, and in my line of work—running from the pack cities was a full-time job, ask anyone—it made for a difficult time. Today, though, would be my greatest challenge. I couldn’t screw it up.

Step one was to convince them not to rip my heart out where I stood. Step two was to stay in the city just long enough to create a plan which would not only get me out of here but help me skip the country.

America wasn’t safe for me any longer. Not now they’d scented and cataloged me as an omega. Nothing was safe for an omega. That was the legacy Mom left me with, and I’d sacrificed everything to change my fate and not end up like her.

“You have five minutes to freshen up,” Mr. Gruff said, waving his hand toward a door on the right of the bed. “Bathroom is through there.”

Without removing my focus from the two shifters guarding me, I slid out of bed, relieved to see I was still in the clothes I’d thrown on in the hotel. Shifters weren’t the best with consent, and after living in the human world most of my life, I didn’t have their casual approach toward nudity. If either of these assholes had touched me, I’d have lost control of my beast and tried to destroy them.

In the bathroom, I closed the door behind me, unsurprised to find no windows or means of escape. They’d never have let me in here alone if there was a chance I could make a break for it. After using the toilet, I washed my hands and splashed water onto my face, attempting to bring a touch of color back into my pale cheeks. My reflection flashed as I straightened, and lucky for me, I looked as terrible as I felt.

My strawberry blond hair was tangled in matted clumps around my head, my skin paler than usual, giving the spattering of freckles across my nose and cheeks a chance to stand out as the stars of the show. The s**t show. My light blue eyes were dull, but that wasn’t only due to today. Life had been beating me down for years, and never letting my wolf out had weakened my natural shifter healing and energy.

Come on, Emmeline. Get your s**t together.

Yep, I was the queen of pep talks, and I’d never needed one more than I needed it today.

Gruff voice was waiting for me when I emerged from the bathroom; the other shifter had left. There was a split second when we eyed each other. He wore a stupid little smile as if daring me to try my luck.