Cornered
Prologue
Winter, 40 years ago...
The pain was just a memory now. The lashings of a ghostly fire that echoed through the marrow of Shayd’s bones. He hadn’t been delivered to Valhalla in the arms of a Valkyrie. But into the bowels of Helheim on the pikes of poisonous claws—only to return a monster.
Fenrir’s vargar had come in the dead of night, ripping through his home and killing everyone. Shayd’s entire pack was gone. His family, murdered. Yet the world kept turning, mocking his grief and fueling his thirst for vengeance.
Under the dancing orange glow of an enormous hearth, Shayd had revealed his hideous flesh to the most powerful Elder in Midgard. She was insane but sympathetic. She’d laughed in the face of his misery while wrapping his body in acid until nothing remained except the scars of raw wounds that would never heal. Then, she’d forced his Úlfr free and wept at its mangled, disfigured form.
That had been three years ago. Now, Shayd was barely 17, lying shirtless in the firelight once more and waiting anxiously for the very thing he’d sought the Elder out for to begin with.
Dvergur Járn. Dwarf Iron. Whispered to be from the same ore which had forged Mjölnir. How the Elder had procured the legendary Asgardian metal through the aether was beyond him, nor did he care to ask.
If it worked, he never would.
“These must remain pierced in your body for as long as you desire them to work,” Elder Áslaug instructed. “If removed, they will no longer keep your Úlfr sedated. The magic will be broken, and replacing them won’t fix it. Be absolutely certain in this decision, pup. It’s a one-time deal.”
“I’m certain.”
She laughed like a little girl enjoying a game. “So, you think.”
Shayd wished he could say that what came next was something remarkable or profound. That there had been a significant rendering to his body or soul, but he could not.
The Elder took up a ball-peen hammer and nailed the iron spikes into his back before her laughter turned into sobs of grieving—and all he felt were the movements. The intrusion. Blood ran hot over his flesh, then cooled as his body instantly healed around the metal.
His muscles shuddered once, then relaxed. Shayd’s Úlfr grew quiet and distant. A far-off presence, falling into a peaceful slumber in its new, magical cage. Never to be free again.
Chapter 1: Cornered
Fall, Present Day...
Watery sunshine tried to make a difference in the shadows cast by a burning hearth, but it was too weak. Not that either man in the room needed the additional light to see ten times better than any human.
Stretched on his stomach with his chin resting on folded arms, Shayd Eklund was in a dark, desperate place. One he hadn’t visited for a long time.
“It’s getting worse,” he confessed.
His brother by bond, Kazi Nolan, wiped blood and ink from his skin with a tissue, giving him a sympathetic glance. He knew why it was getting worse. It didn’t need voicing. Fenrisúlfr was back. All their Úlfar were chomping at the bit because of it. War was a bleak inevitability marching right to their doorstep, and they were far from ready.
“Are the posts no longer working?” Kazi inquired.
Shayd could feel them like two small railroad spikes hammered into his back, under the top curve of each shoulder blade. Right where Elder Áslaug had placed them forty years ago.
“They work as promised.”
“And the Bind Runes?”
“They help tremendously, bróðir.”
“Good. Because if this new one doesn’t help with the restlessness, nothing will,” Kazi stated grimly, then switched the tattooing gun back on.
Shayd didn’t close his eyes, just let his mind wander. It went straight to the woman just down the hall in a different room, the only one in the entire den where the grate never burned. And the frequent sounds of weeping emerged in the dead of night to rake through his skull and soul, waking him in a cold sweat and instant rage. He spent more time pacing than sleeping, which wasn’t helping him battle the increasing darkness.
Horrendous memories of pain so pure that it was rapturous in its intensity plagued him day and night. Shayd couldn’t even put names to the sounds that echoed through his mind, for they’d yet to be discovered by creators of horror. And the smell of his family’s blood never washed away...
Every time he passed Reyna’s new guard dog, Maxon, Shayd could feel the Mare’s desire to dry-hump his brain.
Fucking Dark Elves.
He felt pretty confident it wasn’t sexual, but Max was undeniably attracted to the nightmarish experiences tainting Shayd’s soul.
There was a real fear that it might be worse than that, though. Everything Shayd had learned so far about the Martröð only confirmed Maxon’s previous claims. Nights and Mares weren’t merely twins but connected as two halves of a whole. They couldn’t survive alone nor work their bad dream mojo without each other.
Shayd worried about what else they couldn’t do without the other because Max’s sister, Cressa, was his mate. The night she’d been reforged, he’d known.
All it had taken was Max lifting her into his arms for her scent to fill the air like sifted petals, gracing Shayd’s system with the exotic perfume of night-blooming Jasmine and the saliva-inducing tang of Spearmint. Everything inside him had instantly craved, desired, and claimed.
Mine, mine, and all mine!
Shayd let his eyes close at last. He could barely feel the continuous vibrations from the needle permanently weaving ink into his skin. Tattoos and piercings already covered most of his upper body. At best, they tickled. He couldn’t register pain anymore. That ability had been lost to him when he’d breached the limits without dying.
It was the one thing no one in the world would ever complain about being immune to, but it only reminded Shayd of his brokenness. That something vital was missing, which he’d once had. Like his family, pack, and Úlfr. Just one more thing Fenrir had ripped away from him.
Kazi paused, wiped, and studied. After darkening a few more lines, he declared the tattoo finished, then cleaned the new addition. There was no need for bandages or balm to keep it safe. Shayd’s skin had been healing while the tattoo had been forming. It wasn’t going anywhere.
“How do you feel?” Kazi asked.
Shayd inhaled deeply, letting the sigil’s magic fill every cell of his being. The anxiousness settled, and his Úlfr stopped pushing against all the other bindings.
“Relaxed,” he said as he exhaled. “Thank you.”
“That’s what I’m here for.” Kazi smiled, his movements a bit stiff when he stood.
Shayd sat up, slid off the table, and crossed to the full-length mirror hanging on the bathroom door. He turned his back to it and looked over his shoulder, his natural peripheral range working perfectly. The new tattoo blended with the curve of ink flanking the right side of his back as if it had always been there. The redness and swelling faded even more as he watched.
“My Úlfr was giving me an earful this time, Shayd,” Kazi remarked.
He’d already been anticipating the remark and knew it was responsible for Kazi’s grimness the entire time. The Bind Rune had taken Shayd some digging to find because an ancient enemy had designed it to keep an Úlfr locked down, unable to shift. It was a weapon against his people.
But desperate times and all that.
“Sorry. You don’t have to—”
“I told you, that’s what I’m here for,” Kazi cut him off while cleaning his tools. “I’m just worried.”
Shayd accepted that but wasn’t sure how to respond. Turning, he faced Kazi, watching his stiff movements from the injury wrapped in gauze under his shirt. It had almost been a week since the vargr had caught him with poisonous claws.
Under normal circumstances, Kazi should’ve healed within a day or two. The Elders believed the delay was from the vargr having Úlfrinn blood rather than being purely human.
Shayd gestured to his hidden wound. “How are you feeling?”
Kazi gave a short laugh. “Annoyed but inspired. I already know what’s going over the scars.”
Shayd grinned, feeling the movements in various piercings around his face.
“You keep that up, and you’ll actually start looking like a tattoo artist.”
The youngest Nolan brother owned a chain of tattoo parlors from Minneapolis to Santa Monica. He was the only member of their pack deemed a lone wolf, always itching to roam. Yet despite his success in the business, Kazi had fewer visible tattoos than anyone else.
Visible was the operative word because, under a black light, he put Shayd’s tattoos to shame.
“Trust me. I’m not planning on making it a habit.” Kazi chuckled, setting his repacked gun kit aside to collapse the portable table. “You’re lucky this shit survived the crash.”
“I’m lucky?” Shayd scoffed.
“You’re right. Kyle’s lucky. I could’ve inked you at the shop.”
Though their banter was in good humor, the mention of Kyle’s name had the old familiar bitterness rising. A dark stain on their history, made all the more severe by recent events.
“Do you think the GSI’s gotten much out of him yet?” Shayd asked.
Kazi shrugged. “I’m sure we’ll know as soon as Corbyn does.”
After selecting a t-shirt from his closet, Shayd helped Kazi carry his equipment outside to Breton’s Denali. Fall had claimed its stake in Pine Grove at last. But the rain had let up an hour ago, bringing glowing sunshine to the changing leaves.
If only all deaths were so beautiful.
“Break’s almost over,” he mused, studying the forest of pines that had given their hometown its name. “One more day, then we have to go back to our lives as if none of this shit is even happening.”
Kazi closed the back hatch of the SUV and gave him a questioning look. “Since when do you complain about having work to do, framing monkey?”
A smile tugged at Shayd’s lips for what he viewed as a compliment. It was true that he found a unique kind of serenity with a hammer in his hand. He found even more bliss while hacking, but his computer access was limited.
Shayd had gotten himself into trouble one too many times with the Bossman. Unfortunately, things had irrevocably changed, and they ate away at the happiness he usually found in all the simple pleasures.
“I’m grateful for it,” he admitted. “It’s just hard to think about returning to work in the human world when we know ours is on the verge of getting royally fucked up.”
They both turned when the front door of the house opened. As soon as Shayd spotted Reyna, all his darkness got shoved down and buried fast. The fullness of his love, admiration and loyalty to her consumed him, causing a genuine smile to mold his lips.
“There you are.” She beamed at them. Her springy platinum and almond curls made the sunlight appear brighter. “You guys are missing out. Angelina made the best cinnamon rolls in the world, and they’re almost gone.”
“Because you keep eating them, falleg,” Corbyn interjected, appearing behind her to lean against the door frame.
Reyna rolled her eyes, then shrugged. “Anyway, you two might want to grab some quick, and I miss your pretty faces. So, come have breakfast with us,” she coaxed sweetly before leveling her mate with a look that could’ve felled a lesser man. “One word about wheelbarrows, and you’ll sleep alone for a month.”
“Ouch.” Kazi laughed at the stunned, worried look on their Alpha’s face.
“But, baby... I love you,” Corbyn called over his shoulder as Reyna passed him to reenter the house. When he looked back at them, his face split into a confident grin. “She can’t resist me.”
Kazi shook his head, glancing at Shayd with conflicting reactions of envy and terror.
“Gods help us when we find our mates, bróðir. That’s our future. Our entire way of life, overrun by dames.”
“Please. Serena and the Elders were already running this joint long before Reyna showed up,” Shayd countered to hide the truth.
Like the fact that he’d already found his mate. Which enabled him to understand why Corbyn was a thousand times happier than they’d ever seen him, but Shayd mostly felt lost. Uncertain, fearful, and self-conscious. For Odin’s sake, he couldn’t even get up the nerve to knock on his mate’s bedroom door.
Shayd mostly blamed the waves of sorrow constantly assaulting the air from her room for that. Maxon wasn’t any easier to be around. The Mare was in an increasing state of anxiety, torn between his Night and his queen. Shayd could almost feel sorry for him if he weren’t too busy avoiding the Dark Elf’s unnerving interest at every turn.
“This is why I travel,” Kazi said, slapping Shayd on the shoulder.
“No respect,” Corbyn grumbled. “But speaking of travel, it’s past time we have a business meeting before something else comes up. There’s a lot we haven’t had the time to share, and I want everyone on the same page.”
“Now?” Kazi asked.
“Yes,” Corbyn confirmed. “We already have a handful of problems that need addressing at once.”
Even as the last word left Corbyn’s mouth, the sound of Cressa’s weeping reached Shayd’s ears, and his entire body tensed.
“Like that?” he snarled.
He stormed away from it, stopping near the treeline on the other side of the yard with a scowl. He couldn’t look at the others. Shayd felt Corbyn give Kazi a silent command to leave them. His Úlfr didn’t have to be free for his senses to work at their keenest. That included getting the full range of his Alpha’s communications, which was 80% body language and facial cues.
Once they were alone, Corbyn approached his right side. “Kazi gave you a new Bind Rune?”
Shayd nodded, able to force the darkness down since he’d distanced himself enough from the sound to accomplish it.
“How bad is it?” His Alpha pressed.
Shayd exhaled and turned to face the only man on earth who knew him as well as he knew himself. Better, perhaps. Corbyn wasn’t just his Alpha. He was his oldest and dearest friend, who’d saved him from a spiraling eddy of self-destruction and depression.
Shayd knew, beyond any doubt, that he’d be dead if Corbyn hadn’t found him, convinced him to join the pack, and let the Elders heal him. He’d been on a mission to kill, or be killed, when the Alpha and his cousins had stepped into his path, refusing to budge until he agreed.
He owed Corbyn more than just his loyalty and skills. Shayd owed him the respect of never lying to him.
“Bad,” he confessed. “I nearly lost it the other night when that fucker brought Kazi here. Justin was the only thing that held me together.”
Corbyn nodded, not the least bit surprised. “Was it Kyle or the scent of the venom?”
“I don’t know. It was everything all at once. And when I saw Kyle go after Reyna—”
“Yeah.” Corbyn expelled a shaky breath, undoubtedly still feeling the effects of that fright.
Sheer panic had swept through the entire pack that night to see Reyna out in the open, completely vulnerable, with Kyle trying to get at her and Maxon doing everything he could to block the wolf.
“It was so tempting to jump right through the window and grab her,” Shayd continued. “But that would’ve given Kyle a way to get to Justin, and I couldn’t take that chance.”
“You did everything right, Shayd,” Corbyn stated with finality. Let it go. Ease up on yourself. The unspoken words were heavy. “They’re both safe.”
With a nod, Shayd let that acceptance ripple through his muscles to loosen them. He shoved the increasing tide of helplessness—of feeling utterly fucking useless—back down again.
His Alpha wasn’t moving, though. He was still waiting, giving Shayd his undivided attention, a willing and open conduit for whatever was festering in his heart and mind.
As always, it was like a two-headed snake. One side was docile and grateful; the other was venomous, and ready to strike. When Shayd couldn’t find a way to speak, Corbyn did.
“You’ve been on edge since that night, Shayd, and it seems to be aimed more toward our new Mara pair than anything else. You were the first to react when Cressa—”
The hiss was out of Shayd’s mouth before he could stop it. He pulled away from the offender on every level, but Corbyn refused to let up.
“See? Right there. Help me understand,” he implored. “Your peace of mind is too important to us. Do you need them gone?”
Shayd gasped, his heart plummeting.
“No,” he answered, startled by the mere prospect.
His mate. No, he couldn’t lose her before getting up the courage to even speak to her. Shayd’s emotions rose, trying to strangle him with the real fear that Corbyn could make them leave if he felt it was best.
“I mean... Max has already bonded with you and the pack, not to mention his even more powerful bond with Reyna,” he continued in a stammer.
Corbyn shook his head. “She would understand. You’re obviously having an issue with them being here. You’re not eating or sleeping. You’ve barely left your room in days.”
“I’m fine, Cor,” Shayd insisted. “Better than fine now. I just needed Kazi’s skills. I already feel more settled. The restlessness has calmed.”
Corbyn studied him intensely, his silvery gaze boring right into him in a way that would give a genuine Saint a guilty conscience. Shayd could almost hear him connecting the dots, putting all the pieces together.
When his eyes widened, lips parting with shock, Shayd knew it was over. He couldn’t hide or deny it any longer.
“She’s...? Oh,” Corbyn faltered. He lifted his hand dazedly to rub his forehead. “That’s... wow.”
Shayd swallowed through the knot in his throat, unable to speak. The darkness lost its battle against the new and confusing emotions trying to find a home inside him where Cressa was concerned. His Alpha paused, apprehensive.
“Is it only her? Or both of them?”
Shayd tried not to sneer. “Don’t you think I would’ve flipped out weeks ago when Max showed up at Fernlock if it was both of them?”
Corbyn frowned. “Honestly? I doubt you would have. They’re one entity. My Úlfr couldn’t decide on Max until Cressa was whole again.”
That was a good point, but Shayd shook his head. “No. It’s her. It’s only her scent.”
Corbyn nodded, understanding and unable to argue that definitive evidence. “I’m sorry—and I’m deliriously happy for you—but holy fuck, that can’t be easy. Is there anything I can do?”
“Make her stop crying.”
It wasn’t a request. It was a desperate need.
“I was already planning on bringing that up with her brother,” Corbyn said. “It’s upsetting the whole den. Maddy and Serena had to take Justin home because of it. The guys can barely function, and Reyna’s upset because she can’t help Max in any way. We need to figure out what in the hell is causing it.”
“You think it’s more than just her being whole again after so many years?” Shayd asked, his concern growing.
“Let’s see if we can find out,” Corbyn suggested, turning to lead the way to the house. “You know, I can find ways to keep you busy.”
“Thanks,” Shayd replied. “Something tells me we’re already going to be busy enough as it is. But I’ll let you know if I need any extra distractions.”
