I roll over, putting Sebastian below, my first action of will that afternoon. My bra is peeling off, sliding down my arms as easily as if on ice. I snatch it from Sebastian's fingers and snap it back into place. Then I disinterestedly push off him.
His words are a black hole that has quickly sucked away all the excitement and desire that was an instant ago.
I lie back on the bed beside him, staring at the ceiling, a hand between my head and the cushion below, silent as a grave. Deep within, my wolf part is confused. It wants to know exactly what we are doing. What are we doing or not doing?
Sebastian is contrite. 'I'm sorry, Claire.'
'And you wonder why I treat you like a jerk?' I snap.
'Just forget I said that.'
I give him a scoff of amazement. 'Forget you said—whatever you may think, Sebastian, this is my first time. Who calls a virgin a slut in the first place? And believe it or not, I came today because I decided you were who I wanted, not because of some stupid blackmail!'
Fine, fine. I was with Sebastian because I wanted to break some silly mate bond, not because I truly wanted him. My feelings may be so strong for Mason to the point that they create an illegal mate bond, but my head has decided through cold reason that Sebastian is the safer choice.
Sebastian clears his throat. 'So you and that guy never...?'
'Mason? No!' I give a bitter laugh. 'That is one guy who manages to be a worse jerk than you, Sebastian.'
Sebastian is quiet as it sinks in. 'I'm sorry, Claire.' He reaches a forefinger to the hole in my belly, tracing a pattern of circles around my bellybutton.
'Know what? Forget it,' I say, climbing off the bed. 'I'm leaving.'
'No, Claire. I said I was sorry.' Sebastian follows me off the bed. 'Stay,' he begs.
I locate my discarded shirt. I want to be out of Seamus' house in like the next second, so I stuff my tank top into my bag and dorn the shirt. My eyes descend on my shoes.
'It will be the same to you: whether I offer myself willingly or because of a blackmail, I'll still be a slut.' I pause a moment before breaking into another humourless laughter. 'Yeah, definitely a Clear one. Whose idea was the joke? Yours? Seamus'?'
I reach for my shoes. Sebastian grabs my hands. 'You are not leaving.' His voice is spontaneously fierce and rough. Dangerous vibes are practically rolling off him like ash from an erupting volcano. He reminds me of my pictures with Mason, even as he looks ready to force himself on me.
Rage howls through my blood. 'So it has come to this,' I say softly.
Sebastian's confidence wobbles a little at my suddenly icy tone. My confidence, on the other hand, is as excited as of a lonely wolf's which suddenly finds itself facing against an overconfident sheep.
'Dumb sheep,' I blurt.
When Sebastian's gaze narrows uncomprehendingly at me, I just smile.
Now that I'm no longer trying to deny or destroy the mate bond, my human and wolf sides are once again aligned. Like a sudden snap, the full range of my abilities return to me.
A groan begins to build at the back of my throat as I shake off Sebastian's iron grip and cross to the door in barely a second. Seamus is still holding a tiny spy camera when we come face to face at the door. The camera is of a kind that can just fit into a keyhole.
The ensuing rage burns so hotly in me that it consumes itself in an instant. It will be only too easy to hurt, to break, to scar, to rip. But I just turn to Sebastian one final time. He nearly disappears in the cascade of tears that my eyes have all of a sudden gathered. 'You keep hurting me,' I sob, glancing also at Seamus, 'both of you.'
I burst out of the house. I just run and keep running. If my control so much as slips around the two humans, I may just cripple them or negate their gender description altogether, to say the least.
I heft my bag. It doesn't matter how untrue what Sebastian or Seamus says about me now, what gossip they spread; since they have the evidence now, however untrue, to prove it.
I just earned the Claire slut badge.
***
Alicia misses me at Seamus' house by a stretch of minutes. When she arrives there, I'm already gone. After she informs Cade by phone that I am no longer at Seamus', she starts tracking my scent, unaware that her scent is also being tracked.
By the huntsmen.
***
The forest at the border of town is like a second home to me, a second playground. It holds almost as much memories as the house I live in with my parents. Like I took my first baby steps in that house, among these woods was where I first opened my infrared vision. Memories are scratched into the bark of these trees: years Dean spent as our alpha; training us, leading us, loving us like a father. It is a hallowed place of sorts to every member of the pack, our turf and meeting place. A few miles westward is the cliff. That not-too-long-ago sight of Dean cradling Vanessa like a broken doll will always be popular in my future recollections of the past, a multitude of memories no matter.
I feel like I have to keep running to keep my sanity. And when I stop, I don't want to see any guy again ever. But it is just an empty wish.
I make a nest with some interlocked branches high aboveground. I soon have a shelter that allows me to surveil my environment, whilst giving me a measure of visual protection. It may not be foolproof, but it can give me precious critical seconds to come to a decision in the event of an intrusion. And it is all a waste.
I have been brooding, sullen; watching nature continue her routine as daylight weakens. Though it feels like I spend a decade or two there, it is just a dozen minutes tops before I am interrupted.
The first crack that slices the silence breaks me from my thinking, but at the next crack, I jump to my feet. In that same intstant, something crashes down through the canopy overhead, slams into the branch beneath my feet, pins me to the trunk by my neck.
Instantly, I grab the arm, strong enough to crush rock.
'You?' Mason initially breathes in surprise. Then he growls immediately, 'You!' He doesn't bother to loosen his grip.
I am in no immediate danger: I don't have air, not even enough to talk or make suffocating sounds, but I feel a change in physiology from a reliance on oxygen to a temporary ability to do without. But it's still a shock to see him crash my self-pity therapy session.
Mason glances around. He appears to be looking for something. Then it hits me. Could he have been drawn here? Did my pain draw him? Though I see the obvious confusion in his eyes, I hope that it isn't the case.
If it is, the mate bond that shouldn'tbe is starting to influence him.
Very soon, all will be lost.
I will be joined in the hip with someone who would rather have never met me. No, soldered at the hip would be more like.
Mason's naturally blue eyes fixate on me, only they are shifting shades of red. He asks the right question: 'Did you draw me here, Claire?'
My eyes bulge. I squirm in his grip. He belatedly realizes that werewolf or no, I have to breathe to talk. He lets go of my neck.
Air floods sweetly into my lungs. I gasp and choke and revel in it.
'Claire!' Mason thunders.
I give him a glance as I massage my neck. Then I step off the branch. But Mason's feet touch the damp forest floor before mine. This elicits from me the mother of all groans.
'What do you want!' I shout, making a thunderclap of my own. And Mason's eyes narrow slightly at that.
'I want answers, Claire!' He returns. 'How? Tell me how.'
I can see that he is processing everything: there are only a handful of ways I could have drawn him. One is by telepathy, like Vanessa. Another is by a bond. Mason obviously knows these things, and his sourness declares his suspicion—note the singularity: suspicion. He doesn't think I am telepathic like Vanessa.
At the moment, I wish I am. But I just walk away from Mason and his questions.
I almost bump into him. He is so close that he blocks out most of my vision and fills nearly all my sense of smell. By necessity, I strangle the impulsive thoughts that result and fold my arms, assuming a casual posture.
'Seems like I have to deal with you, Mason,' I say offhandedly. 'What do you need?'
'Don't you be flippant,' he hisses at me. He is giving off a dangerous atmosphere; and unlike Sebastian's, this isn't child's play but the real thing, the real deal.
'How?'
I stare, agape. 'It is whatever you think it is,' I answer finally, walking past again.
He grabs me by the arm of course. 'What have you done?'
I deftly manoeuvre my hand out of his grip; you don't need strength for everything. 'I promise that there is nothing I'd like more than to be out of your skin, Mason,' I assuage sharply. It is apparently uncomforting because it wasn't meant to be.
'So this?' Mason questions.
'It isn't my fault, okay?'
'But it is my problem!'
'It is my problem too! Our problem.'
'There isn't any our anywhere, Claire.' Mason responds with a chuckle as sharp and unfeeling as glass. He endeavours to tap his temple for emphasis, 'Get that into your thick skull!'
I leer at him. 'Our,' I reiterate. 'And I have a mate bond to prove it.' I am momentarily stunned, despite myself, that I used my self-made calamity that way.
That shuts off the flow of Mason's words in his throat and slackens his jaw. Hearing it said aloud must have worked wonders. Going by his expression, I could as well have said I was carrying his baby.
'You don't know what you are getting yourself into,' he ultimately grates.
'Do you think I want this? That I want you?' I fire back.
'Then why would you go to such length! This is impossible.'
'It's Olligrander. Okay?'
Mason is quiet for a bit. 'Olligrander is not to blame for this.' His eyes glow deeper. 'Dean is.'
'Actually, we all are,' Vanessa says gravelly. 'With the exception of Claire herself, certainly.'
I whip around, as does Mason. Vanessa is a few steps behind us. She covers the distance.
'White.'
'Lycaone,' she acknowledges back.
Where Mason looks sourer from Vanessa's appearance, she is almost pleasant. I frown, suddenly edgy. Vanessa is always pleasant.
'The Imperials will not let Claire roam free. A quack imitation of lycans as she is will be imprisoned at worst, enslaved at best, ' Mason spits. 'You surely knew this.'
Vanessa recovers some of her usual pleasantness as to be smug in her response. She addresses Mason, 'Claire has immunity by the Higher Imperial Law; she is a White and my heir.' The next part though, Vanessa says directly to me, her eyes holding mine. 'Claire, by that law, can only answer for crimes she committed of her own free will, either by her actions or inactions.'
Although I am shocked by the recent exchange between the two, Vanessa and Mason, I faintly realize that Dean is guilty on two accounts under this Higher Imperial Law. One, for liasing with scientists to save Vanessa, and two, for creating a wolf like me.
I don't clearly understand what Vanessa has said about my being her heir, but it wins her the argument with Mason. After a few seconds for a counterargument that isn't forthcoming from Mason, she returns her attention to me.
'Claire, we have a big problem.'
That naturally buries any thoughts of my heirship to Vanessa White.