Pack Captive by Cate Corvin
Ayla
The maid began fillingthe bath with hot water as I gazed at Calian in trepidation.
"You're not really going to stay in here and watch me, are you?" I asked, forcing myself to remain planted where I was instead of backing away.
I hated feeling so powerless about such tiny decisions over my own life. If I'd been free to choose what I wanted, I would've hit my limit with these wolves a long time ago, but they were making it obvious that I had no limits now.
I wasn't allowed to set those boundaries for myself.
Calian cocked an eyebrow at me, then strode to the corner of the room. He grabbed the back of a plush blue chair and dragged it closer to the bath, but aimed it towards the bed.
Then he sank into it, leaning back, putting his arms behind his head, and closing his eyes.
I tried not to look at the way the muscles in his arms flexed as he moved, or the long length of his entire body, which nearly dwarfed the chair.
"There." He didn't open his eyes as he spoke. "I'm not looking. Take your bath."
"I would've preferred complete privacy," I muttered, glancing at the steaming bathtub. There were no partitions to hide me if he decided he wanted to stand up and walk around.
The maid was looking between the two of us, her eyes wide as though waiting for a fight to break out.
"Too bad. You smell," Calian said, and I bared my teeth at the back of his head.
Completely powerless.
Besides, I did smell a bit. Even the basin Ryden had offered me hadn’t gone far.
I edged towards the window on nearly silent feet, just out of morbid curiosity, and Calian cracked one eye. "Ah ah ah, I don't think so."
A snort escaped me, but I moved away from the window anyway. I had no intention of plummeting to my death. "How does it feel to be downgraded to nanny status?"
My barb didn't hit home. Calian only smiled, his full lips made more appealing by the dark stubble that had appeared on his jaw throughout the day. "Still better than captive status."
Ouch. I'd walked right into that one.
He closed his other eye, still smiling. "Ass in the bath."
The maid looked at me pleadingly, and I let out an inward sigh, walking over to her with the air of someone expecting an execution.
"I can bathe myself," I told her, but when it came time to take my clothes off...I couldn't do it.
They were old clothes, worn and patched so often that by this point they were probably more ragged stitches than cloth.
And they were stained. The dark splotches over my shirt and in the knees...those were stains that had never come out.
My Warriors' blood had soaked into my clothes as I held their bodies, screaming at the dead Fenris wolves and knowing I'd have to bury the pack myself, carrying the burden of the dead on my shoulders for the rest of my life.
"Caller?" The maid's soft voice interrupted my thoughts, which had been spiraling down into a dark place.
I clenched my teeth and pulled the shirt over my head, and slipped out of the pants, practically scrambling into the bath as soon as I was naked.
Just because Calian said he wouldn't look didn't mean I believed him.
The maid had poured something in the water that created a thick, foamy layer of bubbles on top. I leaned in and sniffed suspiciously—it smelled like the soap Ryden had given me.
I couldn't lie to myself. Having a hot bath—a real one, not just one out of a basin—was my idea of heaven.
I even allowed myself to sit back for a moment and close my eyes, trying to wash everything out of my brain and just enjoy the feeling.
I twitched when the maid poured a pitcher of water over my hair, which was followed with more of the vanilla soap.
Her fingers began scrubbing into my scalp, and I found myself relaxing again.
Perhaps this was what Ryden had meant by my 'rank', although I'd always washed my own hair.
The concept of asking one of my pack to do it for me was laughable. They would've just asked if my fingers were broken if I couldn't do it myself.
I heard Calian's voice clearly, since he was less than six feet away. "I'd like to remind you again about the reward system. You please the Alpha, you live like royalty."
My eyes popped open, and the maid pushed my shoulder down, keeping me in the bath. "And I'd like to remind you again that I'm not your dog, nanny."
Calian laughed. His deep baritone voice made it even more appealing, some of that hidden warmth peeking out. "You're much more interesting to be around when you're not crying about going on hunger strikes."
This time, the maid almost didn't manage to keep me in the water.
I clung to the edge of the copper tub, sending a few bubbles sloshing to the floor. "Crying about it? We had a plan, you bastard. Then you stole me from my home. My ancestors are in that temple. Who will care for them now?"
"Your plan was suicide at best." His warmth was gone, replaced by the more familiar coldness. "At worst, they would've run through you and gone for your pack next. And you're not the only one with ancestors left behind."
I bit my tongue before I could lash out again.
There was truth in his words, and pain hidden beneath them.
I settled back in the water, scowling at the back of his head as the maid lifted one of my hands and began cleaning under my grimy fingernails. There was probably a year’s worth of blood and dirt caked under them.
"Where did you come from?" I finally asked.
Several minutes passed in silence as the maid moved on to my other hand. Her eyes kept flicking towards Calian's chair, as though she too were curious to know the answer.
There was finally a creak as he sat up straight in the chair. "You can go, Karina. I'll handle her from here."
The maid began to protest, but Calian held up a hand. I shrank in the bath, keeping everything below my shoulders hidden under the bubbles.
She let the sponge slip into the water, then rounded the tub and picked up my old clothes.
"No!" I lunged back out of the water, reaching for them. "You can't take them!"
The bloodstains were all that remained of the wolves I'd failed. I was sure they'd just incinerate them, thinking they were old rags.
The maid held them closer to her chest, looking at me like I was insane. "Caller, these aren't appropriate attire for you..."
"Leave them."
Calian's command echoed through the room.
The maid glanced at him once. From where she stood, she was able to see the look on his face, and whatever she saw there was enough to make her hurriedly place the ragged bundle on top of the dresser and scurry from the room.
Calian stood up and spun the chair around.
I sank below the bubbles again, but relief coursed through me that he’d stuck up for my desires.
I might not have my family's bones, but burying the remains of their blood would be as close as I could come to honoring them during the full moon.
He sat in the chair, braced one foot on the side of the bathtub, and surveyed me with his chin propped on his fist.
His stare—and silence—were so intense that I finally grabbed for the sponge and began scrubbing my foot just to avoid his gaze.
"You've seen the Fenris wolves." His voice was quiet. “The shadows.”
My left foot was sparkling clean now. I moved on to the right one, frowning at the anklet as I worked. "Of course."
"They're only his spies and outriders." Calian was still watching me intently. "They're nothing, Ayla."
Hearing him say my name like that made me pause and look up. "They almost destroyed my entire pack. How can they be nothing?"
He shifted in the chair, moving his knee so I could only see his face over it.
I realized he'd just given me some privacy in his own way and began scrubbing more vigorously, determined not to waste the hot water.
Calian finally spoke again.
"I was in the northlands when Fenris came to power. We weren't a small pack, and we had a strong Alpha. There were more male Warriors than females, which was becoming a problem. The Alpha decided we needed to assimilate some fresh blood into the pack. I was young, but I was placed on the raiding party for that night."
I was listening so hard I realized I'd stopped scrubbing, staring at his face. He was still looking at me, but his eyes told me he was somewhere else.
"We were only miles away when it started. Fenris himself came to us before we began our raid. It took one night for him to burn our pack's settlement to the ground. Our raid leader turned us back when we smelled the smoke, and we came back to find...everything and everyone gone.
"Fenris was still there. It took him less than ten minutes to crush the entire raiding party. I only escaped because I was still small, and the raid leader sent me into the forest to survive and report to the other packs."
Calian's mouth twisted in distaste. "I ran for days without stopping. Ryden's father found me where I'd collapsed in the wastelands. By then, the entire northern settlement was gone. After several years here, and a few expeditions back to the northlands, I realized I was the only survivor of Pack Tempestas. Everyone else, down to the very last pup, had been slaughtered."
My mouth was full of a bitter taste. I had lost most of my pack, but at least we'd saved our pups.
"I'm sorry, Calian."
Calian blinked, seeming to come back to himself. He focused on me again, those dark eyes as unreadable as ever.
"Don't be sorry. What's done is done. I just need you to understand: a single Caller makes the difference between Lykos surviving or becoming a smoldering ruin like Tempestas." He leaned forward, bracing his arms on his thighs. "If you starve yourself, we die. If you throw yourself out the window, we die. If you fight the Alpha on every order, we die."
I clung to the rim of the bath and looked up at him, held in place like a mouse hypnotized by a snake.
"That includes your pups. Your elders. Mine are already gone," he said gruffly. "You might despise our methods, but if keeping you prisoner means every wolf out there—" He waved a hand towards the window, indicating all of Lykos, "—survives, then I will happily endure your hatred to my grave."
I swallowed hard, feeling small.
Like he'd reduced me to the size of a grape and then crushed me under his heel.
"I don't hate you," I breathed. Goddess knew I should, but I didn't.
I just understood him a little better now.
Calian's harsh expression softened. Just a touch, but it was enough. "I don't hate you, either. I just wish you'd understand...if we'd had a strong Caller, maybe my sisters wouldn't have died screaming for mercy. You've been given an opportunity I would've killed for in those days."
His sisters. Moon above, and I'd thought him a soulless bastard.
But now...if I was willing to forget how they'd taken me and put a shackle around my ankle...maybe there would be common ground to find between us.
I bit my lower lip, worrying it as I thought. "Your ancestors are still in the northlands?"
Calian nodded slowly, studying my face.
"If...if you were to come with me to my temple one day to retrieve mine, then I'd be willing to help you retrieve yours. We could hold the rites for them here in Lykos...together."
It was the largest peace offering I could think of, and not easy to accomplish, but Callers had a duty to ensure our ancestors were laid to rest and given the proper rituals, blessing their spirits and guiding them to the moon.
He was silent for another long moment.
I thought I'd offended him somehow, even though this was one of the few things I knew for a fact that Callers were meant to do.
Then he reached out and laid his hand over mine, squeezing hard.
Calian released me, then stood up and strode to the door.
I stared after him. The touch was so brief, I could've imagined it.
Maybe I had imagined it.
"Thank you, but there's nothing left to bring back," he said quietly. "I'll be waiting outside for you."
Then he stepped through, leaving me alone.