Chapter 16: The Great Hall

“All wolves have been called to the great hall, immediately.”

He drops his hand from my jaw and jumps to his feet in all his naked glory. I avert my eyes, suddenly aware of this fact and instantly shy. He has your typical Alpha package, and it's not exactly easy not to look at. Generally, the males have something to be proud of, and Colton is no exception. My face reddens, heat rising up my cheeks, and I huddle myself up, still recovering from this shitstorm we just put ourselves through, and now blushing to my core because I ogled him completely starkers and realized he’s well-endowed.

I wait for him to leave, hoping to pull myself together with a little headspace and try not to also check out his ass, but he pauses when he sees I make no effort to follow.

“That means you too... my goal is to have you initiated into this pack, Lorey. No matter what it takes. My father can't keep denying us if you're accepted. We need to have a plan... steps to being together. I don't want to keep going through the emptiness of the last weeks and denying this between us. What I said in the forest; I was wrong.”

He shrugs as if he’s reciting some bland speech and not literally altering everything I thought was happening in the last weeks of my agonizing life. My eyes dart to him, shocked, yet not. Deep down, I guess I knew this was his motive and his feelings on where we should end up. I'm just not so sure anymore. The words I said in anger still ring true, and my heart is telling me that a bond should be stronger than his father's command. I can't shift that disappointment in him, because I feel like he was too quick to give me up.

I'm a whirlwind of emotions, and so much has happened in the last twelve hours that I need some time to let my brain catch up. I've been through trauma and changes, and I need to process it all. I can't tell which way is up, and I'm no longer in control of a single tiny thing in my own life—not even where I'll sleep tonight, let alone live tomorrow.

“Come. Please. You can't stay here in this mess, and we need to get you some clothes.” He stretches his hand toward me, extending his palm, and I brush it away.

“Why can't you let me leave to figure this out on my own? This is the last place on earth I want to be.” Tears begin to fall as self-pity hits hard; I guess it's because I'm physically and mentally exhausted. This is not how I thought my life would go, and from the day I turned, it has been hell and heartache all rolled into one.

He exhales heavily, frustrated with me, and yanks me to my feet with a forceful lunge at my arms instead. He pulls me up despite my refusal, taking charge and not in the mood for arguments.

“Listen to me. I need you to comply for a little while and we'll figure this out together. I don't want you to go. When this settles, I'll go to the orphanage and pack up all your stuff, and we can talk about where we go from there; but right now, I need you to come with me and do as I say.”

He has that edge to his voice I usually hear when he's leading his pack. It's the “don't argue with me” commanding tone of Prince Santo. What else can I do? I'm technically a prisoner here with nowhere else to go. I'm on my feet, with a persistent pain in my ass bossing me around in a house full of people who hate me. I literally only have him to depend on, and only because the Fates forced it. I have nowhere else, and if I'm being honest with myself, everything is too messy, my gifts too new, and my mental state a little too fragile to be thinking about going anywhere alone. So, I nod reluctantly.

“Come on then. Stay close to me.”

Colton turns and leads the way, sensing I don't want or need him touching me, and I do as he says. I stay right behind him, clutching my covering, and wait while he grabs one for himself, wrapping it on like a toga before heading toward the door. If Carmen saw us now—naked with ripped bed sheets to cover our modesty—she would only assume the worst, and I can't imagine that going down well at all. I shudder at the possibility she might see us.

Within seconds, we are in the hall, moving along the wide passage in semi-darkness due to all the boarded-up windows and lack of lighting. He leads me onwards, following some turns and a flight of stairs until we get to the floor below. I was put on the top floor in the far end of the house, away from everyone, and now we seem to be on the third floor, in a brighter corridor with doors all bearing names and keypads on each. Colton stops me with an arm, pushes me back around the corner we rounded, and hushes me with a finger to my lips as two Santo pack members appear from a door opening. Both walk out and head away from us, completely unaware of our presence. He makes us wait a second before leading the way again, halfway down the hall to the third door on the right. He turns, using his hand on the pad, scanning his palm as it clicks open. His name is on the door, so I guess this is his room.

"Why are we hiding if you're taking me downstairs anyway?” I ask blatantly, composing myself since leaving that room.

He slides an arm around me and shuffles me into the darkened space, pulling me in and closing the door behind us with a last outward check of the hall. He walks across the bedroom toward a set of wooden doors, sliding them open to reveal wardrobes, and starts pulling out clothes. It's dull in here thanks to the boarded windows, but light is shining through the cracks brightly now, telling me daylight has come. I follow him, taking in the almost Scandinavian, Ikea-style minimalism of his room. He likes space and neatness, with very few items cluttering it up. Neutral tones, light woods, plants, and lots of floor—an open calmness. It's clean, airy, and almost obsessively organized.

“Carmen just needs to know I brought you in here and she'll go nuclear. It's best if I appear downstairs with you, where she’s contained, because frankly, my ears and my head can't handle her gifts right now. She still thinks we have a future, and I need to talk to her about that.”

He carries on focusing on clothes, his tone level as though he hasn't just caused me pain with careless words. It quiets me, and that distant heartache and pang of jealousy find their way back home to my stomach. In all this mess, I was starting to wonder if our bond had been dented and if I was starting to feel differently about him. I guess I'm not that lucky, as my heart still seems very attached, despite everything. I'm mad at him and disappointed in him, but yet, I still yearn for him and love him. My soul still wants and needs him.

We dress quickly; although his clothes are baggy on me and ill-fitting, it's better than showing up in a rag and a smile. Following close to his heel as we leave his room, we make our way down another two flights of sweeping staircase and two other levels before we end up back where I caused such a scene hours ago. The sweeping final stair leads to the main entrance, which is now immaculately calm. It's a lot cleaner and tidier now that the debris is gone, and the front door is closed, with the addition of several new heavy-duty locking mechanisms in place. The boarded glass panels are screwed on with braces, hinting that the threat of another attack is on Juan's mind.

Colton takes my hand in his unexpectedly, sliding strong fingers into mine, and leads the way across the vast marble floor into a small corridor that runs away from the bathroom he put me in earlier. I don't reject his touch; I need it now that I'm on a comedown from what happened upstairs. I am once again vulnerable and out of my depth, clinging to him to take charge while in his domain, drawing from his strength and his ability to swagger through the worst kind of chaos.

We walk down the dark, almost claustrophobic space filled with voices, noises, and lots of movement, eventually catching up with two Santos inside the most crowded room I've ever seen. It's hard to tell how big it would be empty, as it's packed solid with adult Santo wolves—mostly male—from all over, even those who don't reside in the pack house. Easily over a hundred or so, they are all squeezed in, fighting for breathing space as we join right at the back, unseen.

There are several elders and the Shaman right down at the front, standing on a low podium facing back at us all. Men I have never seen before in my life are standing behind them; I guess these are the older generation of retired elders, coming out in our time of need. It is mostly men in here, as is the way when dealing with important matters, or femmes who have no children and are better suited to battle, as all others are home minding their little ones.

Juan Santo is right in the center, and he seems to be waiting for everyone to quiet down before he starts. The overwhelming seriousness of this cascades around the room, thickening the atmosphere with a heady tension. Colton pulls me in front of him, placing me right at his chest so I am up against him, lacing his fingers into both of my hands from behind as they hang by my sides in the darkness. He rests his chin against the back of my head, bringing his body to fit snugly into mine, so we are completely joined without it being obvious to those around us. It looks like two people standing close due to the crushing lack of space. He's a good head taller than me, so it's a natural position, and I glance around to see if anyone is staring, but they're all too focused on their Alpha King.

"Quiet now.”

A voice from the front rows hushes the uneasy mumbling and scraping in the room, and everyone stops talking. The atmosphere is somehow heavier with the forced hush. Juan steps forward, although I can barely see him over the people in front of me and have to stand on my tiptoes to get a proper view between heads. There's a moment of pause as he looks around at us all; his eyes catch his son across the crowd, and I can't miss the fleeting surge of anger as he realizes I'm right in front of him. I glance away, instantly scalded, landing back down on flat feet and wounded by the penetrating glare. I scan the room instead to see if Carmen is anywhere close by. I can't see her, thankfully, which means she probably can't see us, and I try to sink down further to better conceal myself behind the Santo in front of me.

Colton squeezes my hands and holds me closer, somehow letting me know that I should ignore it.

Be still. You're safe with me.

He comes through gently, caressing my mind with a tender tone, and I exhale dejectedly. For now, maybe—while they're all distracted with vampire attacks and end-of-world foreboding—but my gut says it's temporary. I can feel the hatred lingering in the air from Juan's vicious frown, and it unsettles me in every kind of way.

"You all know why we are here...” Juan begins, and it's the final push needed to bring a total hush to the room. Everyone falls deathly silent, not even the shuffle of moving bodies. It tugs my attention back to him, and I peek around the side of the male in front of me to catch sight of him again.

“We were attacked by a long-forgotten enemy, and quite frankly, we didn't see it coming and were not prepared. Despite the rumbling of recent months, we didn't honestly expect them to rise and attack in this way, and we failed our people. We lost fifty-three of our kind on the dark side of the mountain tonight. Forty-seven lost in the battle, and six bonded who perished when their mate's heart took its last beat.”

My heart aches as he says it, visualizing so many of the faces I know went down in that attack. Unlike anyone else in this room, I'm probably the only one who not only knew their names but what every single one of them looked like, who they were as people, and their ages—not only when they died, but when they were first dumped in that hellhole without their loved ones. Memories with all of them exist, even if they were not close to me. To these wolves, they're just numbers to measure their failures against. I close my eyes as the tears begin to fall silently down my cheeks—warm, unwelcome rivulets of remembrance. The pain returns once more, and I can't stop myself. My heart fills up, straining to contain it as my mind is swamped with images I don't want to relive. I shudder as I push them away, inhaling heavily as my shoulders start to tremble with the effort of not falling apart. The horrors of how I last saw them all try so hard to invade my brain and cut me down all over again. I nestle back into Colton as his arm comes up around my body and across my neck, cuddling me. His comfort is what I need more than anything, and I stay there in the darkness of my own doing, listening and silently weeping while held tight in his comforting embrace.

"We think it was a test, for this device we found in the orphanage.”

Juan carries on, and my eyes rip open at his words, shoving my despair aside as I squirm, wriggling out of Colton’s hug to see what everyone is craning their necks to look at. I catch a gap as the ones in front move sideways. He holds up a small, perfectly square black box with an antenna sticking up at the top, but a complete lack of buttons and dials of any sort—it looks harmless. Small and compact, no more than a tissue box in size, with another wire sticking out from the rear about a foot long, it doesn't seem to attach to anything to power it. It doesn't look real, more like something a child could make with card, glue, and some black paint. I blink at it, stupefied, glaring furiously, and hating that something so insignificant destroyed my life.

“They chose our weakest and our most secluded and walked right in, depositing this in the center of the first-floor kitchen. We think they wanted to test its effectiveness and still have a fighting chance should it fail. It didn't... we've only one survivor left from the home and only because of the fast actions of our pack. We managed to take down many of their kind, but a few escaped and will be reporting on their success for sure.”

There's a murmur of uneasiness as people glance around at one another in scared question, and I catch the whisper of my name on the hushed wave of sound. There is a mix of both relief that my survival ensured their own Santo Alpha, but also the bitter ones, calling me a “reject” and querying how I was the one who managed to live. I catch the low, body-vibrating, internal growl from Colton as his protective instinct kicks in at hearing my name. A couple of nearby Santos glance this way, eyes widening in surprise, and they instantly stare down at their feet, turning meekly submissive in a flash—faces darkening with fear and shame at being caught by him, of all people. Realizing he’s right here among them, and not down there with his immediate family.

I turn away to block them out and stare down at the front instead, mentally blanking them all, because this has always been my life and I'm not that bothered by their remarks. I catch sight of his grandmother in the shadows when they settle down—a woman who barely shows her face but is lingering nearby. Unsurprisingly, there's no sign of Luna Santo, Colton’s mother. She has been absent from view since the wars, and rumor has it she locks herself up in her room on the main floor upstairs and never leaves. No one has seen her in years, and if it weren't for Colton's memories of her in my head, I wouldn't even remember what she looked like. Some say she was scarred horribly by the battles, both mentally and physically, and is too ashamed to come out and face her people—meeting one of the few things in the world which can leave unhealable damage on a wolf. Her mental state has crumbled with the trauma. Only I know, from being inside his head, that there's some truth to the stories; there's only a vague, blurry visual of Colton being told she’s cared for away from the mountain because the war broke her.

Those around us turn silent as Juan breaks through the thick atmosphere once again, drawing me away from my train of thought and disrupting my searching of the past for answers to her lack of appearance.

“Testing weapons can only mean we're heading for a war with an enemy we thought we long ago vanquished. They're working on a strategy, and this is just the beginning. There have been stories and rumors, but nothing concrete for many months, although this is now our proof. Civilization as we know it is about to change drastically. We must protect the packs, join with those from other lands, and prepare for what is coming. We must unite and finally be ruled by one leader, one voice, to work as one under my guidance as Alpha, if we are to survive a second war like the last.”

I shiver as his words begin to hit home, my brain scrambling to fathom something as huge an undertaking as that. We're a dozen packs in one state, but worldwide there are hundreds of thousands, and most still do not live in peace with the others of their kind. Rivalries exist, and some are still at war with one another, even now with the history of the wars behind us. A common enemy may change that, but there's a lot to do before that can happen. Packs are destined to want to rule over one another, fight for dominance, and forge the hierarchy; our mountain is not normal when it comes to living in close proximity. It was a necessity as we recovered from the war before—our people shattered by loss—so we were more pliable in accepting another pack as our leader. Most of our own Alphas never came back to dispute the claim to rule us.

Santo’s idea that he will become the only leader and unite us all seems ridiculous, given the vast amount of us in this world he will need to unite. I'm sure there are other pack leaders out there who believe themselves far superior to him—other dominants with way more ability and gifts—and it's not in an Alpha's nature to yield without a fight. I shiver, my body trembling with all that is dawning on me, and how terrifying our future now looks. Colton firms his hold on me, reassuring me as best he can, trying to keep me calm and be that rock I never knew I needed before I found his touch. I exhale heavily, submerging myself in his body heat, and try to bring myself peace.

“We need to put measures in place to protect our mountain from another attack, effective immediately. Allocations of groups, with leaders, will be assigned to those who haven't already had them. We are the reigning pack in Radstone, and they'll all be looking to us now to lead and protect them. Training will begin at first light for all old enough to fight, so all of you eat. Sleep. We've already sent small details to walk the perimeters, and each of the villages has been ordered to do the same. We'll have guards outside at every hour keeping watch, and we'll revise a system to improve on all of this, setting up drills for how to react should an alarm be raised. This coming few weeks, we'll be moving all surrounding packs into the south side of the mountain—here among our people—for their own safety. We have much to do; there will be upheaval and chaos, but we must keep our heads. This was a first offensive, and we do not know when they intend to return.”

The silence becomes unbearable when his last words fall in the air around us, and the gravity of our situation sits heavy on us all. Some of these men and women are survivors from the first war against the vampires and already paid their dues, but most of us were just children, or young enough to stay behind. We lost so many, and although our numbers have recouped over the years, we're not living in readiness for a fight. We've had relative peace for years, and I have no idea how the hell we're going to get through this.

Bringing us all to one place to live in each other's pockets here in the Santo land is going to be madness. We're spread far around the skirts of the mountains and are high in number. There are not enough homes to accommodate bringing us all together at this one shaded side under their command and watchful eye. Not to mention the children, their schools, and their animals on the outer farms. This is insanity. I feel sick to my stomach, knowing that everything I knew before—my idea of empty living—was in fact the best years of my sad existence. Now we're dawning on a new age, and I'm wishing with all my heart that I could go back to being that unworthy reject in a house full of unwanteds, in the shadowy side of our peaceful mountain. If I could go back, I would. I would never complain again, never crave a different life, because what we have coming couldn't be any worse.