Sentinel (The Lost Pack Book 3)

  Sentinel

  The Lost Pack: Book Three

  Claire Cullen

  Copyright © 2019 by Claire Cullen

  All Rights Reserved

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Chapter One

  Thorn liked the night shift at the firehouse. There was something about driving home in the early morning as the first light of day touched the world. A point came where he had to make a choice—take the turn for his house or continue on to the packhouse. There was a time when he wouldn’t have hesitated to drive straight to the packhouse and join the others for breakfast. But that was before. Before Brax and Cole had found mates. Before the world knew of their pack’s existence. Before the house had been filled with cubs.

  More and more, the packhouse no longer felt like a place he belonged. He recognized the disconnect but couldn’t seem to do anything to turn the tide. The nature of being a pack’s Sentinel meant he was always a step apart, always on the outside looking in. It hadn’t mattered so much before, but now, when their lives had so much and his had so little… It was like a chasm had opened up between them. He didn’t know how to bridge the divide.

  He was just passing the Beckers’ farm when old Mr. Becker stepped out onto the road, waving him down. He rolled down his window as he brought the truck to a stop.

  “Morning, Arnold.”

  “Just the person I wanted to see. There’s a cat stuck in my tree. Been up there since yesterday morning. I was sure it would find its own way down, but it’s still up there.” Arnold cast his gaze skyward. “Supposed to rain again today, and the temperature dropped last night. Poor thing must be half-frozen.”

  The last thing Thorn wanted to do was chase some feral cat around a tree, but he couldn’t say no. Just the week before, they’d rescued Debbie Marner’s new kitten when it got stuck up her chimney. He could hardly say that cats didn’t fall under his remit, even if he wasn’t on duty right then.

  “Sure, why don’t I take a look? Might be it’ll come down once it’s hungry enough, or maybe it needs a helping hand.”

  He didn’t envy the day shift having to come out for a stray.

  “Much obliged to you.”

  Thorn parked his truck off the road and followed Arnold around to the side of the house.

  “Up there,” the old man said, gesturing to a tall, broad oak tree. “It’s sheltering near the trunk.”

  Thorn followed where he pointed, scanning the foliage. He found what he was looking for, his eyes widening. Just how bad was Arnold’s eyesight?

  “That’s not a cat, Arnold. It’s a cub of some sort.”

  “Like a lion?”

  “A leopard, maybe. It’s hard to be sure from down here.”

  “Don’t think anyone hereabouts is keeping big cats. Haven’t heard of anyone losing one, anyway,” Arnold said with a laugh.

  “How about missing kids?” Maybe this was just an animal cub, escaped from some wildlife sanctuary, but Thorn didn’t think so.

  “Oh, hell,” Arnold said. “Should I call the police? An ambulance?”

  Thorn suspected flashing lights and sirens weren’t going to encourage the cub to climb on down. But the tree looked sturdy enough, and the cub wasn’t right at the top. He could risk climbing up.

  “No, let’s not frighten the little guy. I’ll go up and get him. We can figure out if it’s the wildlife rescue or the human sort we should be calling once we get him down.” If he called the police out for an animal cub, Deputy Thomas would never let him live it down.

  He rolled up his sleeves and approached the trunk of the tree, searching for the best path to climb. He grabbed the first branch and hauled himself up, keeping an eye on the cub at all times. The little guy hadn’t moved, curled up in a ball where the branch he was on met the tree’s trunk.

  Thorn was almost halfway to him before the cub realized he was approaching. A tiny nose poked out and scented the air. Thorn stilled and watched. If the cub panicked and ran, he might slip and fall. That was the last thing Thorn wanted. But the little guy just curled up tighter, as if hoping he could hide from the world.

  Thorn quickened his pace as the wind picked up. This close, he could catch the cub’s scent. That was confirmation enough that he was dealing with a shifter cub and not escaped wildlife. He would not lose this kid.

  When he reached the branch below where the cub was huddled, he paused to decide what to do next. The cub hadn’t moved again but, despite his stillness, the slight twitch to his ears told Thorn that he was well aware of the alpha’s presence.

  Moving slowly, Thorn grabbed hold of the branch the cub was on and eased himself up. The branch was sturdy, and he straddled it, facing the cub. If the little guy decided to run now, he had to go up or down, and not across. That was safer for everyone.

  “Hi there,” Thorn murmured.

  He watched and waited. The cub’s ears twitched again, the only sign that he’d heard him. Thorn could make out the distinct pattern of the cub’s fur. Definitely a leopard. And his scent was very clearly omega.

  “You must be cold and hungry, stuck out here all night. How about we get you down, get you warm, and find you something to eat? Doesn’t that sound good?”

  It was hard to judge a cub’s human age from their animal size. At a guess, this one was a toddler, or perhaps a little older. He might well understand what Thorn was saying, even in his leopard form.

  When the cub didn’t move or make a sound, Thorn pushed closer. There was nothing for it; he’d have to make a grab for him. He couldn’t ease into it and give the cub a chance to get used to his touch. He’d likely bolt at the first brush of Thorn’s hand.

  Thorn gave it to the count of three and reached out. The cub’s reaction was immediate, his head coming up as he hissed and swiped at Thorn’s hand. Startled, Thorn pulled back. The cub didn’t move, watching him fearfully, panting for breath.

  “Come on, now,” Thorn coaxed. “You can’t stay up here forever. It’s going to rain soon; you’ll be cold and wet. And then it’ll get dark again. You don’t want to be out here in the dark, little one.”

  He reached out again, slower this time. The cub watched his hand like it might attack at any moment, hissing softly. Thorn persevered, letting his fingers touch the top of the cub’s head, stroking through the damp, matted fur. The cub let out a soft whine and shivered, then launched himself off the branch.

  Thorn barely had time to react as the cub threw himself against his chest and sunk his tiny claws into him, hanging on for dear life.

  “Shh,” Thorn murmured, securing a hand around the cub. “That’s right. Good job, little guy. I’ve got you.”

&n
bsp; He glanced down at Arnold, who gave him a wave.

  “Need help getting down?” the old man called.

  “No,” Thorn shouted back, feeling the cub tremble at the sound of his voice. “We’re coming now.”

  He managed to work his jacket open and closed it tightly over the cub. Between that and the cub’s clinging claws, he’d be secure for the climb down.

  “Hold tight, kiddo. Let’s get you out of this tree. You’ve been up here long enough.”

  He climbed down carefully, making slow work of it. It was a relief to have his feet on the ground again. The cub was huddled under his jacket and made no move to come out.

  “Looks young,” he commented to Arnold. “Any of your neighbors hereabouts have a toddler?” Thorn was distantly familiar with the families nearby but wouldn’t know them as well as Arnold did.

  Arnold shook his head. “Greta Simons has a young granddaughter, but I think she’s a hare.”

  Thorn pulled out his phone and called Brax. Arnold’s farm was right on the outskirts of pack land so, by Thorn’s reckoning, the cub was their problem to deal with.

  He explained the situation, waiting patiently while Brax brought Oliver into the conversation. The consensus was clear. As the closest refuge in the county for omega kids, Thorn should take him straight to the packhouse. They’d deal with the rest—notifying police and Social Services—once they were sure the cub was safe.

  “I’ll take it from here, Arnold,” Thorn told him. “We’ll get him back to his family.”

  “Better you than me,” the old man said.

  Thorn returned to his car. The first hurdle was getting the cub into a seat of his own. He just didn’t want to let go, clinging tighter when Thorn tried to move him.

  He gave up after a few attempts and settled into the driver’s seat.

  “It’s only a few miles. I’ll drive slow.”

  Chapter Two

  Every bone in Daniel’s body ached, but he couldn’t stop running. The wind howled through the trees of the forest as he raced as fast as he could away from Sammy. Was he far enough away that they wouldn’t catch his trail?

  Another howl, but this time it wasn’t the wind. The pack had picked up his scent; they were closing in. He wouldn’t make it easy for them. He had to be strong, for Sammy’s sake.

  He splashed across the river, running downstream through freezing water in the hopes of them losing his scent. Maybe this time, they’d escape for good. Clambering back up onto the shore, he shook off the water and raced into the cover of the trees. No use hiding his scent if the pack’s scouts spotted his patterned fur in the twilight.

  Behind him, the pack had gone quiet. Had he lost them, or were they just masking the signs of their pursuit? They might be hoping to lure him out, make him think he was safe before they pounce. Or—his heart faltered at the thought—it wasn’t his trail they’d found at all, but Sammy’s.

  No. He was far from Sammy now. Very far. There was no way they had found the cub. Unless Sammy followed him back…

  The fear was enough to make him slow to a stop and turn, looking back the way he’d come. If they had found Sammy, then he had to go back. There was no use in running; he couldn’t leave without his cub.

  A twig snapped nearby, and he jerked toward the sound, his heart thudding loudly in his ears. He took off again, through the trees. The sounds of his pursuers reached him. They were close; too close. A hyena jumped from a tree and landed in his path. He changed direction, only for another shifter to block his way. A boar this time. He turned again, desperate for freedom, but there was nowhere to go. Everywhere he looked, one of Harrison’s men was there, and then Harrison himself. He was surrounded.

  The alpha stepped forward, towering over him. Daniel knew there was no point in delaying the inevitable. He let the change wash over him, winding up on all fours on the ground. When he tried to stand, his human legs shook beneath him, barely holding his weight. Exhausted, he sank to his knees and let his head fall.

  “Where is he?” Harrison demanded, grabbing him by the shoulder, his grip bruising. “Where is my son?”

  Daniel stayed silent, his eyes falling closed. He’d been warned that packs were dangerous, that he should stay far away from them. He wished he’d had that choice.

  Daniel was dragged back to the packhouse and dumped on the basement floor. He was very familiar with the basement after four years in Harrison’s tender care. The alpha in question fisted a hand in Daniel’s hair and dragged his head up, holding eye contact.

  “Where is Sammy?”

  Daniel kept his mouth shut. The longer he stayed silent, the safer Sammy would be. Assuming he was safe at all. That was all Daniel’s fault. He was supposed to find Sammy a safe place to hide before leaving him. But in his panic to get away, they’d gotten lost, and he’d run out of time. He’d had to leave Sammy behind so he could lead the pack away from their trail. But now he’d been caught again, and Sammy was out there all alone.

  Harrison let go of his hair, casually backhanding him and sending him sprawling across the floor. The cold fury in his voice was enough to make Daniel shiver. This was Harrison at his most dangerous.

  “Strike three,” the alpha said, looming over him, his eyes boring into Daniel’s. “That’s three times now you’ve tried to run, three times you’ve tried to take my son from me. I thought you’d learned your lesson after the last time. But I see now I was too easy on you. I didn’t impress on you the depth of your foolishness.”

  Daniel knew this wasn’t just about him running. Harrison was always angry with him these days. He had a list of grievances a mile long about his second mate, everything from Daniel’s appearance to how he was raising Sammy.

  He yelped when Harrison kicked him, knocking him onto his back on the floor. The alpha straddled him, one hand closing over Daniel’s neck tight enough to block his airway.

  “By the time I’m finished with you, I’ll know all your secrets, big and small. And you’ll remember how to be the model omega for your revered alpha.”

  Daniel tried to drag in a breath but couldn’t, panic growing inside him.

  The door swung open behind them, and Harrison growled at the intrusion.

  “We caught another trail, alpha. Three miles southwest.”

  The pressure against Daniel’s neck lifted as Harrison stood. Daniel rolled onto his side, gasping for breath, watching the alpha’s back as he walked away.

  “I’ll deal with you later,” Harrison promised. “Now, I’m bringing my son home.”

  The door slammed shut, the heavy bolt sliding home. Daniel let out a sob of relief, his hand coming up to rub gingerly at his neck. Southwest was the fake trail he’d laid down two days before, hoping that the weather would be dry and it might buy them some time. It meant Sammy was safe, for now. But Daniel still needed to get back to him, somehow. He knew from experience that there was no escaping his basement cell. It was designed to hold people as long as Harrison wanted them kept. Daniel had spent many a week in there. Months once, back in the early days when he was still learning his place. His time with Harrison had been at best a chore, and at worst, a nightmare. Daniel just wished he’d seen the truth sooner.

  Letting his eyes close, he dozed for a while. His body still ached from hours and hours of racing through the forest, but his mind couldn’t settle. Even in his dreams, he was still running for his life.

  Chapter Three

  As Thorn pulled into the driveway of the packhouse, he found the front door open. Brax and Oliver were waiting for him.

  “Kira and Alice are in the living room,” Oliver said softly as Thorn climbed out. “They want you to come inside, give the cub some time to acclimatize, and they’ll take it from there.”

  Thorn had no argument with that. They were the professionals.

  The cub went very still beneath Thorn’s jacket as they stepped inside the house. His ears twitched, and his nose scented cautiously. He knew he was in a strange place and didn’t know what to
make of it.

  “It’s okay,” Thorn told him. “This is a safe place for you. Lots of nice people, warm blankets, and tasty food. You must be hungry, huh?”

  He followed Oliver into the living room, where Alice and Kira had towels, a basin of water, clothes, and other necessities gathered together.

  Thorn carefully unzipped his jacket as he took a seat on the couch.

  “How about it, buddy? Ready to shift back and get warmed up?”

  If anything, the cub clung tighter to him, digging his claws through Thorn’s shirt. He was pretty sure the little leopard had drawn blood.

  “Okay,” he conceded, closing his jacket over. “Not ready yet. That’s okay. You just hang tight for a little bit while we warm up.”

  Half an hour passed with not so much as a murmur out of the cub and no sign that he was loosening his grip. Alice tried to help. She sat next to Thorn on the couch, her soft voice soothing as she tried to coax the little omega to let go. Thorn could tell the cub was listening to her, but when she tried to touch him, he hissed in warning, his fur standing on end. She backed off, moving to the other side of the room, where she and Kira had a hushed conversation.

  “Let’s give him more time,” Kira suggested. “The cub seems most comfortable with you, Thorn. Perhaps he’ll take some food or water from you? That might put him at ease enough to let go.”

  Another hour went by as Thorn did everything he could to encourage the cub to take a bite of some food or lap some milk or water. But the little omega had his claws and nose firmly buried in Thorn’s shirt.