Phoenix Reborn: An Alpha Pack Novella (8 page)

Every night, Micah Chase battled the monsters in his dreams.

The ones responsible for his captivity and torture. The ones who did terrible things to him—made

him
do things—that made him wish he was dead. And each day, he awoke to the increasing reality that the nightmares about his hellish time in captivity weren’t simply products of a tormented and cracked mind.

They were
memories
.

Worms, churning up the rot in his soul, filling him with self-loathing. Hatred. Yeah, he’d liked it much better back when he couldn’t remember a fucking thing.

Pushing himself out of bed, he walked into the bathroom, feeling far older than his twenty-nine years. The Alpha Pack had been called out yesterday to eliminate a nest of goblins—how the
holy fucking hell
had those little bastards gotten through the portal from the Unseelie realm, anyways?—and his body was covered in scratches and bruises from their nasty little claws and teeth. He should’ve healed by now.

That he hadn’t was cause for yet another worry in a very long list of them. In the bathroom, he studied his ruined face in the mirror. He’d taken his good looks for granted once. Before he had been tortured like a lab rat, made to scream in agony and beg for death. The dark eyes that stared back were dull, hollow with pain and mental exhaustion. Dark brown hair, once shiny and full, hung to his shoulders, limp and lifeless as his gaze. But it was the sight of his face that hurt most of all.

The left side was perfect. A reminder of how truly naïve he’d once been to the evil in the world, to what one being was capable of doing to another. The right side, however, was a mess of scars, like melted candle wax had been poured from his forehead to run down over his brow, then down his cheek and neck. In reality it had been molten silver, splashed onto his face as he’d been held down, screaming.

“You’ll do what you’re told next time, dirty wolf! Isn’t that right?”

“No! Stop, please!”

“He still hasn’t learned.” Eyes burning with manic light, Dr. Bowman flicked a hand at an assistant. “Again.”

Shaking his head to clear the horrid scene from his brain, Micah gripped the sink and thought bitterly how books and movies didn’t always get it right. While he’d healed, his wolf shifter’s DNA hadn’t been able to rid him of the terrible scars.

But maybe it was fitting that the outside matched the inside.

Ignoring the throbbing in his head, he turned on the water in the shower and let it get hot before stepping into the stall. For a few minutes he stood and enjoyed the spray beating down, soothing his tired, abused muscles. It did little to ease the pain in his head, however. In fact, the throb ramped up to a sharp stab behind his left eye that left him breathless, and warmth gushed from his nose.

“Shit.”

He swiped his hand underneath his nose, then stared at the blood. There was more this time, the bleeding heavier. It would stop, though. Always did.

Tilting his head back, he let the spray wash the blood away until the flow ceased. Then he finished his shower and
stepped out, toweling off. In the bedroom, he dressed in jeans and a plain black T-shirt,

then pulled on his black boots, sliding his big knife into the right one. Typically he went light on weapons when he and the guys weren’t out on a call. But he couldn’t always shift into his wolf, especially in public, and it never hurt to be prepared.

As he straightened, his gaze found the small pill bottle resting on the dresser. He hated being dependent on that shit, so leaving it behind should be easy. Right? Yet the very thought of being in town, out in the field, or even across the compound, and not having it when the demons closed in? God, the idea made his hands shake and his heart race. Made him sweat.

Taking myst was like wrapping himself in a soft, warm blanket, chasing away the cold. The darkness. The stuff cocooned him in a layer of
I-don’t-give-a-fuck
, at least for a few blessed hours. Sweet relief.

Hating himself, he snatched the bottle with a curse and opened the lid, downed a couple pills, dry-swallowing them. Then he shoved the container into his front jeans pocket. Sucking in a deep breath, he let it out slowly and waited. Gradually, the medicine took effect and he felt the turmoil in his mind ease. His muscles relaxed, tension bleeding away.

There would be a price, though. Always was.

Leaving his quarters, he walked into the hallway and shut the door behind him. Everyone was probably at breakfast by now. The thought of eating made his stomach twist, but he didn’t want to be alone. Besides, acting normal, sticking to his routine, kept his buddies and his sister, Rowan, off his back. Mostly.

Fake it till you make it
.

His boots shuffled on the carpeted floor as he made his way to his destination. Outside the dining room, he paused. The aromas of pancakes, bacon, and syrup simultaneously made his stomach rumble and stirred a flutter of nausea that rose in his throat. He was so hungry, he could have eaten a half-cooked goblin, but the side effects of the medicine prevented him from consuming much without getting sick. Another misery to add to the growing list.

“You gonna go eat or just stand there sniffing the air?”

Turning, he managed a grin for Nick Westfall, the Alpha Pack’s commander, and tried to ignore how the expression pulled strangely at the ruined side of his face. His boss was with his new mate, Calla Shaw, and the vampire princess was glowing. Nick appeared as proud and happy as any man would, being the reason for that glow—and the baby in her belly, which was several weeks along. Lucky bastard.

“Good morning,” Micah said, nodding to them both.

“Princess, you look more beautiful every time I see you. How’re you feeling?”

“Thank you.” She smiled as her mate tugged her into his side possessively. “Other than some morning sickness when I first wake up, I’m doing well.”

“I’m glad to hear it. After you?” Stepping aside, he gestured for Nick and Calla to enter the dining room first. His attempt to avoid further conversation wasn’t as subtle as he’d thought, and Nick kissed his mate on the lips, hanging back.

“Go on ahead, sweetheart. I’ll be right there.”

“Okay.” She threw Micah a look of sympathy before proceeding inside.

Once she was gone, Micah tried to head Nick off. “I’m fine, so there’s no need to start in on me again. Really.”

“Is that so?” Nick’s sharp blue gaze pierced him like an ice pick. “I suppose that’s why your eyes are bloodshot and have circles under them so dark, it looks like you haven’t slept in a month. Or why your hands are shaking.”

Suddenly self-conscious, he looked away, fisting his hands to still them. “I’m okay, Nick. Just a little tired. The meds are helping.”

“From where I’m standing, I have to disagree.” The other man’s frown deepened. “But I realize now isn’t the time or place to get into a discussion. I want to talk to you after breakfast, in my office.”

Fucking fantastic
.

The commander was just concerned. Logically, Micah knew that, but it still sucked to

be singled out and pinned down. Unreasonable anger churned in his gut, but he managed to nod. “Sure.”

Appearing satisfied with Micah’s answer, the commander left him. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Micah walked into the dining room and cast about for a good place to sit. For damn sure not with his boss. He didn’t want to give the Seer more opportunity than necessary to poke around in his biz.

At one table, he spotted Noah Brooks, Sanctuary’s head nurse, sitting with Phoenix Monroe, one of Micah’s Pack bros. Noah was a smaller guy, slim, with short, messy blond hair and big blue eyes that he currently had trained on the tall, lithe man who would be his Bondmate—if only the dumbass would cooperate. It took the anger already boiling in Micah’s blood and amplified it a few notches.

If I had someone who look at me the way Noah looks at Nix? I’d jump for joy. Who cares if he’s a dude?

Self-consciously Micah touched his face. Yeah, like that would ever happen now.

Also sitting at the table were his sister and her mate, Aric Savage. As much as he wanted to sit down and find out what the hell was going on with Nix lately, he wanted to get grilled by Rowan even less. But it was too late.

She’d already spotted him and was smiling, waving him over. With a sigh, he resigned himself to enduring the nosy woman’s scrutiny.

Taking a seat, he nodded a greeting to the group in general. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Morning,” Rowan said brightly, eyeing him. She was annoyingly fresh-faced and alert this morning, long dark brown hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yep,” he lied, reaching for the pancakes. “Like a baby on tranquilizers.”

“That’s funny, ’cause you sure don’t look like you did. In fact, you look terrible.”

He snapped before he thought to filter his mouth. “Why’d you ask the question when you already knew the answer? Or do you just enjoy giving me shit?”

Rowan frowned. “Jesus, Micah, ease up.”

Across from him, Aric shifted in his seat, a low growl of warning rumbling from his chest. No doubt Micah had pissed
off the man, and the wolf within, something fierce.

Inside Micah, his brown wolf stirred and growled right back, unwilling to back down.

The redhead’s voice was low and even as he spoke. “Your sister is just worried about you, like all of us are. No need to bite her head off.”

The men glared at each other and the moment stretched taut. But when he saw Rowan exchange a tense glance with Nix, and Noah’s eyes widen with trepidation, his anger popped like a soap bubble. The sun was barely up and he was already ruining people’s day.

“I’m sorry.” Guilt snaked through Micah. Remorse.

He tried to soften his tone as he met his sister’s concerned gaze. “I just get tired of everybody analyzing my every move, that’s all. I’m fine.”

She didn’t believe him any more than he believed himself, but she wasn’t going to push the issue in front of their friends. He didn’t know if that made him feel better or not, especially when he caught Noah and Nix exchanging worried looks of their own.

Nope, he still felt like crap.

He got busy filling his plate, knowing he wouldn’t be able to eat half of it. Too late, he realized he should’ve taken less so the leftover amount wouldn’t be as noticeable. Still, he ate what he could, chewing slowly, willing the food to settle. The bacon, tasty as it was, sat like a greasy rock in his stomach, and he gave up on it after one piece.

Hoping to lighten the mood at the table, he addressed Noah. “So, how are things going over at Sanctuary?”

His question had the desired result, the nurse’s face breaking out in a big smile. Aside from Phoenix, the younger man’s job at the new building in the Pack’s compound helping to heal and rehabilitate injured and sick paranormal beings was his favorite subject.

“It’s going pretty good,” Noah said with enthusiasm. “The recreation room on the top floor is done, and it looks awesome. We had a big-screen TV installed, and some big comfy chairs, books, magazines, and a couple of game tables, too. There’s also a juice bar, and some light workout equipment in another area.”

Noah was so animated, Micah couldn’t help but smile.

“Wow. Sounds like you’ve all put in a lot of thought and work into the place.”

“We have. The new recreation area was needed for our patients who’ve healed enough that they need more to occupy themselves outside their rooms. It’s been a hit so far.”

“Damn.” Micah shook his head. “I could never be a doctor or nurse. I admire what you guys are doing over there, putting broken guys like me back together.”

“You’re not broken,” Noah said softly.

Uh-oh.

Here came the unwanted sympathy.

“Nah, you’re just cracked,” Nix put in, breaking the awkward moment before it could fully form.

Micah chuckled, and the others visibly relaxed, appearing relieved. Christ, did they really think he was that freaking fragile? “Cracked and super-glued so tight I’m a damn work of art. Right, Noah?”

The nurse shook his head, but his lips were turned up in a small smile edged with concern. “Right.”

Quickly Micah took two last bites of his pancakes. Then pushing his plate away, he stood, pasting on a cheerful grin. “Well, this has been fun. Gotta go check on my bike, so I’ll see you guys later.”

The others issued a round of good-byes, but Aric watched him with a narrow-eyed stare. Nothing got past the redheaded wolf, but he didn’t challenge Micah’s excuse as he turned to leave. As he started toward the exit,

Micah saw that Nick was still finishing up breakfast and talking with his mate, so maybe he’d get some time to himself before the meeting with the commander.

On the heels of that thought, a loud tone pulsed through the air, startling everyone into silence. Micah halted briefly, his current troubles blown away like so much dust, for the time being. The alarm meant only one thing—the Alpha Pack had to take to the air, fast. No time for a team briefing. Nick would receive a call from his boss, General Jarrod Grant, stating the emergency situation that needed to be handled and the location.

The commander had already risen from his seat and was on the move, putting his cell phone to his ear. Micah, for one, couldn’t wait for the fight. Adrenaline coursed through his blood like fire. He took off after Nick, his Pack brothers following suit. There was no time to dash back to their quarters. They ran outside, across the driveway, straight for the huge hangar that housed their land vehicles and aircraft to find their standby pilots already firing up two of the Hueys. Aric would pilot the third.

Some of the team armed themselves with weapons from the secure storage unit in the hangar, but aside from his knife, Micah didn’t bother. Honestly, his wolf was much stronger than his human half in a fight. And unlike most of the others, his particular Psy gift as a Dreamwalker wouldn’t help anyone much in battle—unless all the combatants suddenly fell asleep.

Not damn likely. Snorting to himself, he climbed onto Aric’s copter. If the man was flying, he couldn’t give Micah shit. Of course there was his sister to deal with, along with Sorcerer/Necromancer/black panther Kalen Black, Channeler/gray wolf Ryon Hunter, Hammer—aka former FBI agent John Ryder—and a watchful Nick.