(Un)bidden (Judgement of the Six #4)

“Winifred said your kind is dying. Since I’ve been here, I’ve witnessed three maybe four deaths. You’re killing each other because you have different beliefs regarding the future of your people. But you’re forgetting your common belief, that your kind does have a future. Stop killing. Show tolerance and mercy.”


“Thomas wants to know what you propose,” Mary said. I hadn’t realized she’d followed me out. She stood beside Gregory. It made sense, I supposed. If Thomas had failed, Gregory would have Claimed her.

“Ask him to join your pack,” I said. “Spare his life if he consents. Give him a chance to understand your beliefs while giving yourself a chance to understand his.”

“Thomas understands the pup’s beliefs well enough,” Mary said. “They were the same beliefs he held until he met you. This whelp has already met you and still will not open his eyes to see what’s before him.”

“And what’s before him, Thomas?”

Mary spoke for him again.

“Certain death. Whether by me or a future without Mates, his way leads to death.”

“I can’t promise there are more like me out there,” I said. In fact, I felt certain there weren’t. “But I want all of you to think on this: Your women are scattered and in hiding for their protection. It makes it hard for you to find and meet them. If we made this place into a true sanctuary, more women like Ann might come. If they can have their children here, and those children grow up here, the Mates you so desperately want will be more accessible. But only if you protect this place and that idea. Sanctuary for your kind.”

No one moved as the challenger shifted from wolf to man. Thomas didn’t shift or adjust his hold on the man’s throat, and empathy welled at the sight of the blood running down his neck.

“I consent to join your pack...for now,” the man rasped.

Thomas growled in response.

How foolish could the man be to throw a half-promise at Thomas like that?

“I will not leave your pack because your pack will fall apart on its own,” the man said. “You and I both know you’re already holding eight to you. How many more do you think you can hold? So, I accept. I’m sure there are a few others who would like to join as well.”

The man sounded too smug. I wanted to ask Mary what he meant about Thomas’s hold and the pack falling apart but couldn’t in front of everyone. So I waited with the rest, watching Thomas.

Thomas’ gaze met mine briefly. Then, he released his hold. He stood on the man’s chest and looked down at him until the man turned his head aside. Satisfied, Thomas trotted away. Another man stepped into his path.

“I’ll join,” he said. He, too, wore a smirk.

“Excuse me,” I said, quickly moving to Thomas’ side. Grey was close beside me. “There will be plenty of time for joining a pack. Right now, the dinner Mary and I made is going to waste. Please, come inside and eat.”

The man glanced at Thomas, who stiffly faced him.

“Later, then.”

Thomas bobbed his head, and I inwardly sighed with relief. Whatever this hold was, it sounded as if it was in danger, and I needed to understand why.





Twelve


No one moved to go inside, so Thomas nudged me forward. As soon as I started walking, Mary joined me. Thomas, Gregory, and Grey fell in right behind us.

Inside, Mary and I went to the stove, and Thomas trotted straight into the bathroom. She and I worked together to haul the water to the tub while Grey and Gregory stood nearby, warily eyeing the outsiders I’d just invited in to eat with us. I paid little attention to the men who were slowly seating themselves.

Thomas stayed out of our way, waiting, as we paced between the stove and the tub.

When I dumped in the last pot, he had six inches of steaming water. Enough to wash in but I knew he’d need extra to rinse. I left the small room once more; and when I returned with a cold pot of water, Thomas wasn’t where he’d been. The door shut behind me. I turned and saw him slowly shifting from his wolf form.

“I’ll just go help Mary,” I said, quickly averting my eyes and setting the pot near the tub.

“Help me,” he said. Blood smeared his face, neck, and legs. Bruises coated his torso. He walked to the tub and stepped in with a grunt. He had my pity. I sighed and turned to grab a few cloths from the washstand. I tossed one to him.

“Cover up first,” I said.

He chuckled, and I blushed; but I refused to look his direction until he complied.

“You can look now.”

I peeked at him then quickly looked away again. The small square of material covered him, but it certainly didn’t lend any modesty to the situation.

“I really would rather someone else help you.”

“Mary put the sewing kit in here. I’d rather you help me.”

His ear. Reluctantly, I faced him. He leaned back in the tub, his legs stretched out with only a slight bend in his knees. The water already had a pink tint to it, and he hadn’t even washed his upper torso or head yet.

Cuts littered his skin, most shallow but a few appeared as if a stitch or two wouldn’t be remiss.

“Fine,” I said. I fetched the bowl from the washstand and dipped it into the tub between his legs.