Moving Forward

Surprise (26)

Days had passed. A week, at least. With every delivery of food and water, Max was hard-pressed not to attempt an escape, and only because he knew it wouldn't end well for anyone who knew him. If it was just his life in the balance, he might've tried it. But it wasn't. Kyle and Blake, Lara, his siblings and mom, Marie-Anne... all of them would feel his death. There was no ego in that, just fact. If any of them died, he'd feel it, and he trusted that they feel the same about him. So he made no escape attempts, didn't attack any more of the wolves, and did nothing more threatening than growl about his situation.

It was this horrible, misty morning that convinced him to change into his human form. His pelt felt too tight, smothering him with the fur. He wanted to feel the moisture in the air on bare skin. Cold, wet air that would cling to him as well as his own sweat.

He needed a shower. The stink of his own, unclean odour was beginning to dominate whatever other scents he might've caught.

And so he changed, keeping his pain-filled grunts to minimum. There was no way he'd let his enemy know he was in a vulnerable position. When he was done, he examined the new scars with human eyes, taking in the little raised lines of tissue without the hindrance of fur, prodding and probing at the white lines with gentle fingers.

Carefully, once he'd stretched, and ignoring the aches in his muscles, he slid on the clothes he'd tossed aside to change days ago. Rolling his shoulders, he pushed himself into the shadows of the cave. And waited.

Two more days passed.

And then Gillespie tried again. He strolled through the entrance, wearing a simple baggy shirt and jeans. Somehow the combination looked wrong on him, as if he didn't belong trapped in human clothing.

"Mr Waters-"

"Lieutenant." Max corrected. "Not 'Mister', I'm a lieutenant."

Gillespie smiled, as if humouring a child that was beginning to get on his nerves. "Lieutenant Waters... how are you feeling?"

The concise pronunciation of his words bothered Max. It was strange. Anyone who had lived anywhere spoke with an accent. A lilt or slur or slide to words that were a product of speaking and influencing others speech. Gillespie... just didn't. It wasn't a British accent, nor an American accent, and it definitely wasn't foreign, since he wasn't tripping over pronunciations or which vowels to emphasise.

"Fine." Max said, making sure his own voice was clear and firm, not the soft tones he usually spoke with.

Gillespie's face relaxed in a manner that read as being arrogant. "I'm glad. I think you will also be glad to know that as yet, we have not made contact with your mate."

That caught Max. "How did you know?"

"Know what?" It was vile... toe curling, like nails on a chalkboard the way Gillespie's words slid under Max's skin.

Max blinked, forced himself not to bare his teeth. "That Kyle is my mate. How did you know?" He couldn't help the growl that road out on the reply, and while he longed to stand, to make a lung for the man's throat, he didn't. Max stayed where he was on the floor.

"What can I say? I have many eyes." He shrugged, a move that seemed too casual for the conversation. "Besides, it isn't as if you have made the matter a private affair."

Max allowed the twitch of his nose that forced it to crinkle. "What do you want from me?" He snarled.

Gillespie huffed a laugh. "From you? Nothing. I am simply taking pleasure in knowing the frustration you are feeling."

Max leapt up, growling and snapped his teeth, but made no other move, if only because of the wolves that stepped forward to protect their master. It was a second later that Max took note that he had no idea of Gillespie's own ability. And the fact that he'd taken off during the last fight meant one of two things. He was either a good strategist and would not put himself - the master of his rebellion - in danger, or he was weak and fighting would not be to his advantage.

"Ah, I think it might be time to go." Gillespie hummed, a smile graced his face, and as pleasant and angelic as the smile made him look, Max still smelled a snake.

He left, taking his wolves with him.

Once they were out of sight, Max sat in his corner once again, eyeing the world outside. Hate curled in his stomach for Gillespie. Gut wrenching, blood burning hate for the one who would dare threaten his mate. Max's mate.

But Max was here, incapable of doing anything to keep Kyle from making a terrible decision. Despite the facade that Kyle put on for everyone, Max had quickly discovered the fierce, fluctuating emotions beneath his placid exterior. And Max knew what Kyle would do once he heard from Gillespie.

Kyle wouldn't think before he made his move. He wouldn't plan, consider and look at things from every angle. None of that was conducive to a successful recovery mission. Max should know.

By the time the sun began to set, Max had decided that staying in human form would only worsen his mental state. At least if he was in jaguar form he could be ready for any situation that being outdoors could throw at him. Human legs and arms were too clumsy, too gangly to be able to navigate trees and undergrowth as well as he'd need to.

Another week passed in absolute boredom. Nothing held his attention longer than a few moments and he had to wonder if Gillespie was ever going to send the message to Kyle. Not that Max wanted Kyle to come after him, but to provide a simple change in routine if anything. It was then, when he was considering trying to make a dash for the tree line, that he heard an odd noise. It sounded like a howl, but not one that came from wolves. If anything it sounded like the howl of a dog. It was loud, and grating and... familiar. A sliver of shock went through him as he realised what it was.

On the border of the woods, the wolves pricked their ears up. They didn't know what it was, or where it was coming from, and more than half of the border patrol went to check it out. There was another howl - a real wolf's howl this time - from the east corner of the woods that sent another group running. And when another howl from the west corner came, Max was left just the main contingent of wolves to guard him from escape.

The two at the entrance had turned to keep an eye on him, while the rest kept watch of the woods. A smart move, Max had to admit. It wouldn't help, but it was a smart move, because moments later, breaking from the trees like death in camouflage, were his brothers-in-arms.