Chapter Eighty-Nine
Catherine finished taking the last of the makeup off and stared at her reflection. Not for the first time since arriving in Blackmoore, she wondered why she received this “gift.” Her adoptive parents always told her to hide her different eyes. They told her it was nothing to be proud of. Her eyes made her different and being different in a wolf pack was never good. If only she’d known it wasn’t a wolf pack she belonged in. Maybe if she’d known of her lycan side before Dominic explained it to her… She shut her eyes and stopped her spiraling thoughts.
She stepped away from the mirror before she opened her eyes again. She walked to the bathroom doorway and looked in at her mate. Graham was lying flat on the bed. He’d taken off most of his clothes besides his black boxer briefs and his black, mid calf socks. His right arm was behind his head while his left arm rested across his hardened stomach where his fingers tapped against his phone. His eyes were squeezed shut. She could see the tension in the crease of his eyes and felt his stress radiate off him in waves. His fingers continued to tap like a metronome while he waited for Lucas to call.
Catherine walked over to the bed and sat cross-legged beside him. She ran her hand from his shoulder, down his stomach and to his thigh. She leaned over and started tracing his tattoos. She’d memorized the ones along his arm and chest in the dark while he slept when his thigh was hidden beneath the covers. She started at his knee where a ship with tall sails had been split in two: the sails were torn, the mainmast cracked and the split hull framed his knee as it sunk to darker waters.
His tattoos were a mixture of color and grey-scale. One of the first things she had learned about his ink was that the color tattoos depicted things he was proud of while the grey symbolized achievements that darkened his soul. She remembered asking him why he got them at all if he wasn’t proud of them. He told her it was important to recognize the bad along with the good. That while he may not have been proud of what he’d done, the results were always with the best intentions.
Graham’s phone rang. Leaving his phone on his stomach, he answered and hit speaker.
“Talk to me,” Graham said.
“Marissa Schumacher,” Lucas said with a grin in his voice.
Graham took in a long breath and released it. “What?”
“The rogue’s kindergarten teacher: Marissa Schumacher,” Lucas repeated with a laugh.
Catherine felt Graham’s patience waning but continued to trace her fingers over the tattoos. The next one up his thigh was a color image of a street lamp whose amber glow illuminated the vast city skyline behind it.
“Lucas, I’m rather tired and I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow. What, of importance, did you find out?” Graham asked.
“You’re no fun, Man. You should have come down here with me. I swear an hour or two with this fucker and you’d be high as a kite.”
Catherine looked up at Graham then to find him already staring down at her. He reached up with his left hand and caressed her hair between his fingers. He waited for Lucas to speak again, probably knowing his frustration was just egging on the man who had gotten high off torturing another man. Realizing Graham probably did too when he was seeking information from a captive made her shiver. She couldn’t picture him like that. Sure, she’d seen him shift and change under pressure or threat but getting off on hurting someone for nothing but some information? His fingers left her hair and skimmed down her arm.
“Anyway…” Lucas finally drawled. “The youngster had nothing to say. He was told to search for weaknesses along a fence line. He didn’t know what pack they were trying to infiltrate. They meandered around until the boys from NightShadow happened upon them. Then the others disappeared and left him behind.”
Graham grunted and looked up at the ceiling. “They’re trying to draw us out.”
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“Most likely,” Lucas sang.
Graham started tapping his fingers on Catherine’s thigh. “I don’t like this.”
“Yeah, why try to draw us out when we’ll be in Sterling tomorrow?”
“It’s going to be a fucking fortress, that’s why,” Graham vowed.
Lucas snorted. “Alright, Man. Well, I’d still like to hang out and see what else I can get out of him. These wolves are useless when it comes to proper interrogation. I’m enjoying sharing my knowledge.”
“Once you’re done, cut him loose,” Graham ordered.
“Right-o, Boss,” Lucas said. “You hear that, Buddy? We get to have some more fun!”
Catherine heard what sounded like a muffled scream before the line disconnected. Graham sighed. She went back to the tattoos and the next one up his thigh. It was black and white: an owl with one eye missing perched on a tree branch. It was haunting. She traced the intricate feathers until Graham’s hand came down over hers. She looked up at him.
“It’s Dominic’s mother,” he whispered, glancing down to their hands and back.
She looked again at the owl. “What Dane said was true?”
Graham nodded. “One of the things I’m least proud of. She was an oracle.” Catherine’s eyes widened. “The story you told Mable about Toma’s father… It’s not as uncommon as you may think. Usually though a lot of witches will take up the role as advisor and slowly leach off the power over time. It’s not as substantial of a boost but it can be even more dangerous to the pack and those that cross them. Dominic’s mother stood behind Carlos Riviera: a well weaponized and war-practiced alpha in New Mexico.” Graham lifted his hand, exposing the tattoo again. “With her help he took out all surrounding packs, all seven of them. Then they were at Dane’s border. He wasn’t alpha then, his father was. When Carlos and Esme, Dominic’s mom, got ahold of the alpha and managed to kill him, the other packs came together to stop them from advancing further.”
“It’s illegal in all circles to kill an oracle,” Catherine remembered.
“It is. It was this conflict that killed my father.” He took her hand and interlaced their fingers. “Esme killed him trying to get to Jensen. He was collateral damage. After he died in my arms, I… I went into my first haze. When I came to, I was barely clinging to life, being driven to the nearest pack hospital. I can’t remember what happened but Jensen tells me I killed Esme… right in front of her supposedly innocent teenage son.”
“I asked Jensen if we could grant Dominic sanctuary until we could find a wolf pack to take him in,” Graham continued. “Because of my dad’s sacrifice, he agreed. Dominic came to Blackmoore and soon after he discovered Leonora was his mate. I’m not sure what exactly happened between them. What I was told at the time was that they ran away together and he had marked her but refused to let her mark him. A few weeks later she came home and told everyone he had rejected her. His mark turned necrotic and she nearly
died. If it hadn’t been for Benji stepping up…” Graham took in a deep breath as he fought his emotions.
“I did what I do best and I tracked that fucker down. It was my first real hunt. I found him within two days and I beat him to an inch of his life. When it came time for the final blow I just…” His hand dropped to absently rub the tattoo. “I saw her face and what she’d done to me and what I’d done to this kid who was only a few years older than me… I made the biggest mistake of my life and I let him go. I let that fucker leave with the promise that if he ever stepped foot in Blackmoore again I’d kill him. He went west… and he hurt you.”
Catherine turned and put her leg over his hip so that she was straddling him. He pulled his arm from behind his head and placed both hands on her waist. She rested her hands flat on his chest and focused the love she felt for him through them.
“One day when I was sneaking around the packhouse, I overheard a conversation Dominic was having with some of his counsel,”
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Chapter Eighty-Nine
Catherine said. “He was being warned that a few neighboring alphas were suspicious of his motives and didn’t like how he’d enacted Achmond Rais. There was talk of a rebellion. I remember Dominic shrugging it off and he said, “They’re just a nuisance. I’ve dealt with far worse. The lycans of Blackmoore are a far more treacherous lot than any of these pups hiding in the woods. Call me when they start marching to our door and maybe I’ll worry.””
Graham ran his hands up and down her side.
“When I finally escaped, I knew if I were to survive, I’d have to get to Blackmoore… I had to get to you.” Catherine leaned down and kissed him softly. “You will protect me from him, won’t you?”
Graham gripped her upper arms in a harsh grip and pushed her back enough to meet her eyes. “I will.””
She nodded. “You were a child yourself, Graham. Forgive yourself for doing what others couldn’t. Forgive yourself for what you’ve done and focus on the color in your life. You already saved me five years ago. You’ll do it again.” Catherine leaned down and sealed her words with a kiss.
Surrendering to Destiny
