Pack Ruin (The Splintered Bond #3)

5. Starving

5

Starving

FLOR

W e might have stayed in bed for another full day, but my stomach insisted on getting up. “You’re hungry,” Brand grumbled when it let out a loud gurgle that sounded a little like a cat yowling. “What kind of mate am I, letting you go hungry?” He launched himself from the bed, holding me like a baby, or possibly a football, as he carried me to the doorway.

“Brand, I only have on a nightgown,” I squealed as we moved down a hallway decorated with what appeared to be family photos and paintings of shifters in wolf and human form. Some looked really old, but I couldn’t focus on them at the speed Brand was walking.

“It covers everything,” he replied, hauling me down a winding staircase made of enormous logs. Everything in the whole house was oversized, like the pictures of fancy ski lodges I’d seen in magazines.

Northern’s Lodge had been big on the outside, but the rooms had seemed normally proportioned. This room was vast, the ceilings vaulted high, with rough-cut pine beams stretching from one side to the other and enormous leather sofas and armchairs, as well as gorgeous carved wooden tables and cabinets.

I heard voices down one hall, but Brand tacked away, toward a room that smelled like dozens of kinds of food, and something else… I sniffed.

Oh no.

“Brand, put me down,” I hissed in his ear, struggling. “I reek of sex.”

“Good. You smell like your mate,” he growled, and his eyes glinted bright. “Smell like a claimed female.” He ran his nose along my throat, scenting my skin above the neckline of the gown, before he pushed open a door.

The room behind it was noisy, filled with the lush scents and sounds of a meal being prepared, and a plump, older woman with gray hair, who was humming and moving pots and pans around as we walked in.

“Grandma Ida, my mate is starving. Help.”

She spun to face us, a wooden spoon in her hand. She had on a pair of denim overalls, a red checkered shirt, and an apron that said Team Jacob in block letters. She was one of the roundest shifters I’d ever seen, from her apple cheeks all the way down to her short legs. I grinned. She was almost as short as me.

Her face was immediately wreathed in a matching smile when she saw us, and she rushed across the kitchen with her arms outstretched. At the last second, she stopped mere inches away, her nostrils twitching. I blushed, knowing what she’d scented.

But she mock-scowled at him, not me. “Brand, really? You didn’t even let your new mate take a shower?”

“She was hungry, Grandma Ida. Her stomach was growling.”

Ida’s dark eyebrows lowered, like he’d shared something awful. “Understandable then,” she agreed, pointing to an empty chair with her spoon. “Put her there, and start feeding her. Biscuits for now, but we’ll have a proper meal in no time.”

Feeding me? Brand took her at her word, setting me on his lap and not allowing me to touch the warm biscuits in the basket Ida set in front of us, along with butter and honey. Instead, he smeared chunks with the soft butter, drizzled honey over the pieces, and lifted them with his hand to my mouth. It felt ridiculous, and decadent, but I allowed it.

While Brand fed me, Ida chattered at us from the stove, mentioning dozens of names of pack members. “Oh, I can’t wait for you to make some friends here, Flor. You’re newly shifted, yes? I’ll invite some of our newer wolves around. Tomas, Layla, Grace, Raymond, Brianna, and Rebin all shifted this year for the first time.

“Rebin got caught mid-shift, but Annalise—she’s a dear friend, a female who’s been living wild for two decades—well, she’d come in for provisions and saw the shift. She went up to him and laid her hand on his back, and wouldn’t you know? He was her true mate. After all this time! We’d worried she’d gone feral, by the look of her. Of course, she’s a few years older than him, but you wouldn’t have known it from the way those two started honoring the moon right there in front of the whole pack—ah, Samuel! I wondered when Verona would let you out of the library. Take a seat.”

“Thanks, Mom.” The Alpha pressed a kiss to the older woman’s forehead before sitting on the other side of the rough-hewn oak table, and I took the opportunity to wriggle into my own chair, though Brand grumbled.

Ida gestured for her grandson to help her with the food, and I peered around, ignoring Samuel’s piercing gaze as he sipped some coffee.The room was a kitchen, not a formal room like the Hillier family ate in at Northern. I preferred it, though, and it was still nicer than Southern’s fanciest dining room.

The rustic table was long enough for a dozen shifters, with copper pots and pans hung high overhead down its length, and plenty of space behind our chairs for the ovens and countertops. It looked like Ida had been preparing a feast for days.

She and Brand covered the tabletop with platters and baskets of every kind of food I could imagine. There was warm cornbread dripping with butter, more biscuits with a bowl of sausage gravy nearby, a venison roast, crackling duck, quail, beef meatballs, quiche stuffed with bacon and cheese, and mounds of crispy, buttery roasted potatoes.

And one bowl of salad, about the size of two of my fists.

“That’s in case you’re one of those skinny-on-purpose females,” Ida said, pointing at it. She tilted her head back and looked down her button nose at me. “I’ve read about them in magazines. You look thin.”

“I’ll eat anything and everything you put in front of me,” I replied, already piling food onto my plate as she pulled up her chair. I wasn’t offended by her bluntness; she wasn’t wrong. “I’ve been starved by others my whole life. I’m not stupid enough to starve myself.” I moaned slightly as I nibbled at a potato, and Brand let out a rumbling purr.

“Starved?” Her moss-green eyes flared wide as I turned my head, pushing a lock of hair that had fallen over my eyes behind one ear. My hair had grown back ridiculously fast, so it covered the ear tag a lot of the time. When she noticed the round metal disk, she let out a hiss like an angry lynx.

I grabbed some butter and a small pot of honey for the cornbread. “I was unranked at Southern. We didn’t get food most days.”

Ida rounded on Brand’s father. “And this is the one your damned Council wants you to hand over? Why, so they can starve her more? My baby Brand’s true mate. I’ll tear the hide off any wolf who thinks to keep her from my kitchen.” She picked up a platter full of steaks and piled two more on my plate.

Had she just said hand me over? She had.

I didn’t stop eating at the revelation. I did lift an eyebrow at Samuel, who only sighed as she harangued him for a bit longer.

When Ida finally ran out of steam, she stood, grabbing the pitiful salad and putting a platter of fried chicken in its place. “Eat! I’m making more. Unranked… As if our Mother Moon would abide even the weakest of Her children going hungry.”

I stuffed some chicken in my mouth as she set a whole bowl of macaroni and cheese beside my plate. The smell alone had my eyes rolling back in my head.

I spoke through a mouthful of cheesy pasta. “Brand, I hate to tell you now but… I’m not sure you’re really my true mate.” Samuel choked on something, but I ignored him and went on. “I’m pretty sure it’s your Grandma Ida.”

Ida cackled, but when she returned to the table, she had an empty plate. She whacked Samuel’s head with her wooden spoon before she started spooning up healthy piles of food on the empty dish. Well, maybe not healthy. The portions were enormous, and she only stopped when the food was practically falling off the sides.

“Mom, what was that for?” The Alpha rubbed his head.

“For not doing what you know is right. You’ve got that sweet little Glennie down in the cell, starving to death?—”

I sucked in a breath to demand he be let out, but Samuel’s reply had me letting it out again. “Mom, he’s not starving. You took him an entire side of beef this morning?—”

“—and if you even think about sending him to those criminals in the big shitty?—”

The big shitty? I mouthed at Brand.

His lips twisted, and he whispered, “The big city.”

Ida was still talking as she rounded the table. “—you’ll be the one starving, make no mistake. I’ve always known this Council experiment would fail, because it’s not natural! Packs are meant to keep to their own borders, protect their own?—”

Samuel cut her off. “I’m not giving him over if I can help it. And you know why we needed the Council.”

Ida shook her head. “A War Council was what was formed, when it was needed. It should have been dissolved. You and I and every shifter who’s read the books in that library upstairs know what happens when shifters concentrate power in one place for too long. We get shifters like that Grand Alpha of Alphas—curse his soul forever—and then that Dimitrivich, and the only ones who win are the packs without honor, and sneaky rats like that McDonnell fellow.” Samuel’s expression grew even more grim at the mention of Finnick’s dad. “Brand, come get the doors for me. I’m going to feed our guest.” Ida stomped off to the door, carrying the plate.

Brand pressed a kiss to my head and followed. “Yes, Grandma.”

Once they’d left, I drank some water, since my mouth had gone suddenly dry. When I could speak again, I tried to sound casual. “Dimitrivich? What did she mean?”

Samuel sighed heavily. “Grigor Dimitrivich. The most evil shifter who ever lived.”

“Lived?” I asked, looking around for something stronger than water to drink. If he was talking about my Grigor, I had a feeling it wasn’t a tale I wanted to hear sober. “He’s dead?”

“Every wolf alive should hope so,” Samuel replied. I was afraid he might not say more; Samuel’s mom might be a talker, but according to Brand, Samuel had always been quiet. But after he finished his food, he sat back, assessing me. “Your education was cut short.”

“At Southern? If you mean I wasn’t allowed to finish high school, yeah.” I shrugged. “I guess Grigor Dimitrivich was the subject of some senior history class?”

“Yes. Part of the curriculum covering the Great Shifter War.” His voice took on a teaching cadence, like he was echoing a lesson he’d learned from someone before. “He was born centuries before that, of course. Grigor Dimitrivich was said to be a black wolf, with glowing red eyes, smaller than most, due to his mother being starved when she was pregnant with him. There was a famine in Russia back then. His father was the last Alpha of Alphas, ruling over all of Eurasia.

“Grigor killed him, but instead of taking the throne, he torched his father’s palace and fled, leaving even his own mate. Dimitrivich’s great-great-grandson, many times over, of course, was famous even among humans, known as Raspu— What’s wrong?” His jaw snapped shut.

I’d stood up without realizing it, and my teeth and nails had emerged slightly. “He had a mate?” I had no reason to be as pissed as I was, but my wolf was insisting I leave Mountain now , go and find Grigor, and beat the shit out of him. “He had a child?”

Samuel’s face went still as he stared at me. Listening. “Your heart’s racing. Why?”

“Ah, I’m not… No reason to be…” I knew Samuel would hear any lie I tried to tell, and for the first time in my life, I was at a loss for how to dance around the truth.

“What are you hiding?”

I’d been given Alpha commands before at Southern, horrible ones. I’d been forced to hold still while I was beaten and whipped. I’d watched other shifters be commanded to do despicable things, and to submit to even worse acts.

But I’d never known an Alpha could force a truth out of one of his own pack without even a hint of compulsion.

Not answering Samuel was impossible.

“Grigor Dimitrivich is the wolf who saved me at Northern, when I was abducted and given to the General. General Ivan.”

To his credit, Samuel didn’t react, though his power leaked into the room, making the air feel thick in my lungs. “He… saved you?”

“Yes.”

“Did he tell you why? Do you have any idea what his connection with you might be?”

“Yes.” I didn’t even hesitate, and that was what made me understand something I’d never realized about Alpha power. I’d only ever seen it wielded like an ax or a hammer, splintering a shifter’s will into fragments. But Samuel’s power was like moss on stone, soft but unyielding.

“He said he was one of my… suitors. And I’m pretty sure he’s the same one from your story.” I swayed on my feet, slightly dizzy.

“One of your suitors?” Samuel’s power leaked even more, and my lungs hurt with each inhalation. “Where is he now?”

“I don’t know. But he said… that he’d meet me… at—” I slapped a hand over my mouth, the scent of Samuel’s rage in my nostrils.

He blinked, waiting. Keeping my hand over my mouth, I raised my other hand and slowly lifted a finger.

Just the middle one.

When he inhaled sharply, I dropped both my hands. “That was an asshole move, Alpha.” I met his gaze, then deliberately lowered mine and turned my neck to the side, showing him I was choosing to submit. I glanced back up. “I want you to teach me how to do it, though.”

For a long moment, he was still. Then his beard shook slightly. I had a strong suspicion he was laughing underneath it. “You’ll be Alpha Mate of this pack someday, little Flor. I’ll teach you everything you need to know to keep our pack safe. To protect them, and yourself, starting now.” He circled the table and took my arm in his, leading me from the room and back up the sweeping staircase. “The wolf who is courting you is evil in its purest form, daughter. Please, do not believe what he has told you.”

Evil in its purest form? Grigor, the one who’d saved me from the Russian general? Who’d healed Glen, and promised me a courting gift? I thought about the way his touch had blown through me like a cold wind. How he’d been enraged for me. How he’d so sweetly offered to tear off my attacker’s hands and give them to me to burn.

Okay, so maybe he was a little unhinged. Or maybe a tiny bit evil. But what did it say about me that I found it deeply romantic? I wasn’t the sort of woman to get silly over gifts like jewelry and flowers. Maybe I was the same kind of evil as Grigor.

“Promise me you’ll be on your guard, Flor,” Samuel urged.

I couldn’t agree, so I stayed silent. Samuel clearly understood what that meant, and a look of disappointment and fear flickered over his stern features. “I’ll let you read the histories and make your own decisions, then. Let me show you the heart of the Alpha’s Den.” He opened another door in the center of the hall, one elaborately carved with animals and trees, an enormous round moon at the top of the frame.

“The library.”