The Truth About Kadenburg (16 page)

The only thing that bothered Dimitri, was he didn’t
know how it would play out in the end. Quite frankly, he worried for the
ursithropes. They were outnumbered.

Sixteen

T
he only thing Lorcan knew to do
that would make his anger subside was to take a shower. The heat of the water
somehow caused the heat in his veins to dissipate; it helped to clear his head,
too. His mind was overloaded with thoughts and worries. What were they going
to do? How could they take down Breslin and his pack? How could he get
Presley to realize he was perfect for her?

Just stop thinking,
he thought as he rested his
forehead against the cool tiles of the wall.
You’re just going to cause
yourself to bear out. It’s not worth it right now.

It was easier said than done.
His mind immediately wandered to Presley; he thought of her so often. A heavy
sigh escaped between his parted lips as he curled his fingers into his palm. Those
beautiful golden curls, and those piercing emerald eyes. His arms longed to
hold her, and his heart ached to love her.

Truth be told, he did love her. He’d loved her for a
very long time. If only he could break free from Urseth’s laws; he would make
her his. He would show her how good life could be as her mate.

She won’t even accept what she is, let alone
acknowledging how deep and binding the ways of mating can be.

He pushed damp strands of hair away from his eyes as he
reached for the shampoo. A loud knock sounded on the door before it opened and
he froze.

“Get out of here, Lorcan. I need the bathroom,” his
mother announced.

“Mom, what the-”

The shower curtain was yanked back suddenly and
Lorcan’s hand darted down to hide what his mother most certainly did not need
to see. His brows shot up on his forehead as he scowled. “Mom!”

“Out. Now,” she demanded.

“What is
wrong
with you?!” Lorcan asked as he
stumbled past her and grabbed a towel from the rack. He quickly wrapped it
around his waist, fumbling to tie it as Arnold Goult entered the bathroom.
Lorcan stared back and forth between them. “Mr. Goult?”

“Howdy,” Arnold nodded as he clutched his side. “Sorry
to interrupt your shower, but your mama insists on cleaning me up. I told I’m
fine through, but she-”

“Where’s Presley?” Lorcan cut him off, seemingly
unconcerned with Arnold’s wound as Mrs. Bamey opened the medicine cabinet to
retrieve the first aid kit.

“Presley’s fine,” his mother insisted as she pulled out
the bottle of peroxide. “You needn’t worry about her right now.”

“The hell I don’t,” Lorcan stated under his breath as
he pushed out of the bathroom and stalked towards the living room. The shower
had temporarily disabled his ability to pick up on scents, but the closer he
got, the stronger her hypnotic fragrance became.

“Presley?” He called out, gripping the towel in one
hand as his bare feet touched against the carpet. “Presley?”

Dimitri shot up from the recliner, his eyes wide.
“Easy there, Lorcan. She’s okay.”

Lorcan ignored the wolf as
he knelt down by the couch, reaching his free hand out to touch Presley’s cool
cheek. “What the hell happened?”

“They attacked after we left,” Dimitri responded. “They
tried to take Presley, but Arnold got her back. Your dad’s pretty pissed off.”

Lorcan’s eyes closed as he swallowed hard. His entire
body was trembling with rage as he thought about those damn mutts trying to
take Presley. It’d be a very cold day in hell for that to happen.

What the hell had Arnold been thinking? Lorcan knew it
was a bad idea to leave them there alone. They should’ve stayed; he should’ve
stayed. He could’ve protected her.

I’m so sorry, Presley,
Lorcan frowned as he
gazed at her. She seemed to be resting peacefully, but Lorcan was feeling
incredibly guilty for the fact she’d gotten hurt. He could smell
them
on her; he didn’t like it.

“Presley,” he said. His voice was barely above a
whisper as his fingertips traced over her jawline. “Presley, wake up. Please
wake up.”

She mumbled softly, her thin eyebrows drawing together
on her forehead as she shifted on the couch. “No…”

Was she dreaming? Lorcan crawled forward on his knees,
cupping her cheek with his large hand as his face moved closer to hers.
“Presley, can you hear me?”

No response.

“Your mother said she should come around soon,” Dimitri
spoke up suddenly.

“Yeah,” Lorcan frowned. “I’m sure she will.”

He pushed himself up from the floor, gripping the towel
hanging loosely from his hips as he turned to glance at the wolf. “Where’s my
dad?”

“Outside,” Dimitri nodded towards the front door.
“They’re probably still lingering nearby.”

Not for long,
Lorcan thought as his jawline
tightened. “I’m going to go put some clothes on and I’ll be right back. Keep
an eye on her for me?”

“Yeah, of course,” Dimitri nodded as he moved over to
stand near the couch. He lifted his eyes to meet Lorcan’s and for a split
second, the male bear almost thought he could trust him; almost.

Lorcan was in his bedroom within a few seconds,
rummaging through the drawers for a pair of old jeans. He wouldn’t need them
for long anyway, would he? He was going to take care of the wolves, and then
they could all rest peacefully. No one was ever going to touch Presley again.
No one was going to hurt anyone he cared about, ever again.

At least those were the thoughts running through his
mind as he buttoned his jeans, but then he heard Presley scream.

–––––––—

Once the Bameys and the
wolf
were gone, Presley
immediately went into her bedroom and slammed the door. She didn’t want to
talk to Uncle Arnold about any more of this bear stuff. In fact, she wanted to
forget it ever happened. Maybe it was selfish of her, but if she didn’t change
her mind by morning, she’d be filling up her gas tank and heading out by dawn.

This is all too much,
she thought as she buried
her face against the pillow.
Why are you putting me through this? What did
I do to deserve this?

A light knock sounded at her door, but Presley ignored
it. Her uncle just needed to leave her alone. Learning the truth about her
father’s death and the fact her aunt had been involved with it was the icing on
the cake. Presley felt like she was about to snap and it wouldn’t end well for
anyone.

“Presley?”

Just ignore him,
she told herself as she
sniffled softly. Was she crying again? Perfect.

She heard the hinges of her door creaking and she knew
her uncle was coming in whether she liked it or not. She felt his weight press
against the mattress, and then gentle fingers were moving through her hair. It
reminded her of her childhood; when she’d had a bad dream or was sad for no
particular reason. Well, no, she
was
sad for a particular reason. What
little girl wouldn’t cry on occasion because her mother didn’t want her?

“I know this is a lot to take in, Honey,” her uncle
said softly. He was using that voice he’d often displayed when she was a
youngster. The voice that he reserved for fatherly moments; and in truth, he
was the only father she’d ever known.

“I’m not even going to say I know what you’re going
through because I don’t,” he stated quietly as he leaned back on the bed a
bit. “I learned about our…history, a very long time ago. My parents taught me
and your mama the dos and don’ts before we started school. I am so sorry I
never gave you the same courtesy, Presley.”

Presley sniffled again, swallowing down her tears as
she hugged the pillow against her face. Oh, so now she got an apology out of
him? Maybe some, if not all of this, could’ve been avoided had he just told
her from the get-go.

“I am
so
sorry about what happened with Tim.
Honey, if I could take that pain away from you, I would in a heartbeat,” he
swallowed thickly. “I never should’ve lied to you about anything, especially
your father. I wish I could take all of this away. I wish I could make you
happy.”

Presley scoffed quietly, mentally rolling her eyes as
she breathed in the scent shampoo on her pillow case. She just needed to clear
her head. Tomorrow it would make sense, wouldn’t it? Maybe not, but perhaps
she would be more willing to accept it after getting a good night’s rest. She
was exhausted…

“I love you, Presley,” her uncle murmured as he leaned
down to kiss the back of her head. “Don’t ever doubt that, okay? I know I’m
just your old uncle, but I’ve always loved you like you were my own.”

Great. Now I feel guilty,
Presley frowned,
rolling over to face him.

He was gone.

“I love you, too, Uncle Arnold,” she whispered,
pulling the blankets up over her trembling frame as she willed herself to relax
enough for sleep to take over.

She closed her eyes, trying to regulate her breathing.
Why was her pulse racing so fast?

“Calm down,” she told herself aloud. “You’re safe.
Everything’s going to be okay.”

But her heart was hammering against her ribcage as
panic knotted in her stomach. She felt her fingertips freezing over as sweat
appeared on her forehead. Something wasn’t right.

Thud.

Presley shot up from her bed in an instant, clutching
the sheets as she frowned. “Uncle Arnold?” She called out.

Silence.

Shit,
she thought as she quickly scrambled out
of her bed. She reached for the ball bat she kept by her night stand, gripping
the handle tightly as she made her way towards her closed bedroom door.

“Uncle Arnold?” She called out again, only to receive
no response. She swallowed down her nerves, listening to her heart thundering
in her ears as she grabbed the doorknob, pulling it open as quietly as
possible.

The hinges squeaked again and she winced. Shit shit
shit.

The hallway was pitch-black, and Presley wasn’t sure if
trying to turn on the light was a good idea or not. The terrible feeling she
had in her gut told her to leave it off. If someone was in here, she didn’t
want to give them a visual advantage.

Be calm,
she whispered in her mind. Yes,
because whoever was in the house could
totally
hear the volume of her
thoughts; stupid.

She placed one foot in front of the other very slowly,
reminding herself that she had a ball bat and the intruder did not. However,
there was a ninety percent chance said intruder was a werewolf; in which case,
she was screwed.

You’re stronger than them,
she attempted to
motivate herself.
Oh god, who am I kidding? I don’t even know how to bear
out!

“Uncle Arnold?” She whispered, carefully poking her
head through the doorframe, peering into the living room. Perhaps she’d only
been mistaken. Maybe she only thought she heard a noise. Maybe exhaustion and
the bear craziness was finally catching up to her and she was going to –

“Ahh!”

Presley yelped in surprise as a dark shadow passed by
her, followed quickly by a loud crash as pictures fell from the wall and
shattered against the floor. Her eyes darted around in the darkness. What was
that?
Who
was that?

“Uncle Arnold?” She said a little louder, panic rising
in her throat.

“Run!” Her uncle shouted. “Presley, run!”

“Uncle Arnold, are you-”

She froze then, and her voice became lodged in her
tightening throat as she heard a series of low growls sounding in the
darkness.

Oh god. Oh no,
she whimpered inwardly. She
slowly turned her head to back into the living room, and saw them. Glowing red
eyes; and they were looking right at her.

“Damn it, Presley. Get outta here!” Her uncle grunted
as he struggled to sit up.

“I’m not leaving you,” Presley said firmly as she knelt
down beside him. “Can you get up?”

She heard him wince as she touched his shoulder and she
quickly pulled her hand away. He was hurt. Oh god, what was she supposed to
do?

“Listen to me,” her uncle grunted between words as he
grabbed for her wrist. “I need you to run. Please, Presley.”

A sob tore past her lips before she realized it and
that terrified her. She was scared now, and she wasn’t sure what she was supposed
to do. She couldn’t just leave him!

“Uncle Arnold, please come with me,” she pleaded. “We
can go to the Bamey’s house! We can get help. We can-”

Another low growl sounded and this time, it was from
her uncle. She felt his fingers trembling around her wrist and she tried to
pull away. She was willing to bet he didn’t have any control over the change
when he was frightened; just like her.

“Run,” he growled.

She didn’t have to be told a final time.

As the wolf and her uncle, now in bear form, went head
to head, Presley darted through the kitchen and flung open the backdoor. Her
feet barely made contact with the steps as she descended them. Her mind was
racing as she ran around the side of the house, but then a thought occurred to
her; what in the hell was she going to do now?