Spiral of Need

  ALSO BY SUZANNEWRIGHT

  From Rags

  THE DEEP IN YOUR VEINS SERIES

  Here Be Sexist Vampires

  The Bite That Binds

  Taste of Torment

  Consumed

  THE PHOENIX PACK SERIES

  Feral Sins

  Wicked Cravings

  Carnal Secrets

  Dark Instincts

  THE DARK IN YOU SERIES

  Burn

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Text copyright © 2015 Suzanne Wright

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Montlake Romance, Seattle

  www.apub.com

  Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake Romance are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

  ISBN-13: 9781503948068

  ISBN-10: 1503948064

  Cover design by Jason Blackburn

  To all those who, like me, would probably fit in better among mythological creatures than their own race. You know who you are.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER ONE

  Nothing like being accused of attempted murder to complete a girl’s Friday evening.

  Alyssa “Ally” Marshall kept her expression carefully blank as she stared at the two wolf shifters sitting across from her. For at least an hour the enforcers had kept her detained in an empty room of the pack house before finally joining her, only to look at her as though she were a perfect stranger as opposed to one of their pack mates.

  She knew why they had left her alone for so long. Shifters didn’t do well with enclosed spaces. Placing her in a small room, bare except for three chairs and a desk, was obviously supposed to increase her discomfort and make her wolf feel trapped and isolated.

  It worked, but Ally had fought hard not to show it. Fought hard to keep her pacing wolf from losing her shit. And fought hard to suppress the memories of the last time she’d felt so trapped.

  Then the mind games had begun.

  First Greg and Clint had tried the good cop/bad cop routine, which she’d found rather insulting to her intelligence. So while Good Cop Greg had done his best to convince her that he was her savior and Bad Cop Clint had been browbeating and antagonistic, Ally had remained calm as she firmly stated the facts.

  Instead of listening to what she had to say and considering her side of the story, they had tried twisting her words. And she’d quickly realized that they hadn’t brought her into this room to hear her version of the events. They had already made up their minds that she was guilty; what they wanted was a confession.

  At that point, she’d demanded that they summon their Alpha but was told that Matt was talking with Ally’s supposed victim and wouldn’t be joining them. That was when Ally turned silent. She wasn’t going to give them anything more to use against her.

  No matter how much psychological pressure they put on her, Ally refused to crack. She didn’t flinch, she didn’t lose her temper, and she didn’t evade eye contact. As they stared at her, she stared right back. Her wolf approved of her resilience, though the animal would find much more satisfaction in scalping the bastards with her claws. It wasn’t a bad idea, really.

  Greg had then turned from good cop into frustrated-as-all-shit cop, sighing and growling. And Clint had gone from bad cop to on-the-verge-of-snapping cop, slamming his hands on the table and aggressively invading her personal space. Ally was the only one in the room projecting an outward calm . . . and that was just irritating them even more. How grand.

  “Do you have any idea how bad this could get for you, Ally?” Greg leaned forward. “Matt is going to be supremely pissed. You’re facing an execution here. Tell us the truth, and we can help you. We’ll reduce the penalty to banishment from the pack.”

  She snorted. Even if they did want to help her, they didn’t have the authority to decide penalties.

  “Continuing to maintain your innocence is pointless,” stated Clint, rising from his seat. “We have evidence”—no, they didn’t—“and we have witnesses.”

  What they had were the words of some asshole kids who had been detained in this room more times than anyone could count.

  Greg folded his arms across his chest. “You said those boys approached you.”

  No, she hadn’t. She’d said they surrounded her when she left her cabin mere seconds after she’d realized that not only had someone broken into the cabin while she was gone, but they had totally ransacked it.

  Greg went on. “You also said you’re certain that those boys made a mess in your home.”

  Personally, she wouldn’t call breaking her furniture, slashing her clothes, spray-painting insults on her walls, smashing her TV, and slinging the contents of the refrigerator around her home a mess.

  “But according to the eight youths, they were just hanging around, minding their own business, when you came at them and accused them of breaking into your cabin.”

  Which, of course, was a load of cock and bull.

  “They claim that they assured you that they weren’t responsible for the damage.”

  Another lie. In truth, they had delighted in confessing their involvement when they crowded her, laughingly informing her that Rachelle had put them up to it. And who was Rachelle? Only the delegate of Satan. She also happened to be the pack’s Beta female.

  “They insist that you refused to listen, that you persisted in accusing them of breaking into your home at Rachelle’s request. Then you stated, ‘I’m going to kill her!’ before running off.”

  Had Ally thought the words? Multiple times. Had she spoken them aloud? Not even once, because Ally didn’t bother with threats or warnings. She much preferred to challenge her foe, get the fight over with, and then go on about her day. But she’d resisted the urge to challenge Rachelle for several reasons—mostly because it was exactly what Rachelle wanted. Ally had no intention of giving that crazy heifer anything.

  Clint came to Ally’s side, resting his hands on the table. “You say that you headed for the pack house, looking for Matt, only to find that the place was empty. But, see, I don’t buy that, sweetheart.” His eyes drilled into her as his upper lip curled. “I think you knew that our Alpha would be of no help to you, knew that he would take Rachelle’s side over yours.”

  Only one thing about his theory was true: Matt probably would take Rachelle’s side.

  “So then you decided to take the matter into your own hands, didn’t you?” Clint’s voice turned harder, louder, browbeating. “You did exactly as Rachelle claims: you tracked her down and attacked her from behind, slashing her back, giving her no chance to defend herself.” He slowly stalked to Ally’s other side as he continued, “She quickly righted herself and whirled on you, didn’t she? That was when you sucker punched her, knocking her out,
and ran like the coward you are.”

  Her wolf growled, insulted by the “coward” comment. Ally wanted to snort. If she’d wanted to kill Rachelle, she’d have gone at her from the front. And she’d have made sure she finished the job. Since she’d joined the Collingwood Pack two years ago, Ally had only been involved in two duels. Both times, Ally had won. She fought hard and dirty, but she did not attack from behind. And she did not run off like a coward. No self-respecting dominant wolf would.

  “You were jealous because you lost Zeke to her,” charged Clint with a taunting smirk, “and you thought that if she was out of the picture, you would get him back.”

  Even if she had wanted Zeke back, killing Rachelle wouldn’t have achieved it. Since it was rare for shifters to survive the death of a mate, Zeke would most likely have died right along with her. As such, Clint’s allegation couldn’t be more pathetic. And because Ally had a terrible habit of accidentally speaking her thoughts aloud, she mocked, “Wow, you cracked this case wide open.”

  Clint flushed from the neck up, but after a moment he gave a careless shrug. “It’s your word against Rachelle’s.” His tone made it clear that Ally’s word meant jack shit. Unfortunately, that was true.

  The past few months had sucked big-time. It had been a blow when her boyfriend found his true mate, but Ally was happy for Zeke. She had been nothing but welcoming and respectful to his mate, but the female had loathed her from minute one. Ally had felt the hate pouring from her in waves—literally. Being highly empathetic came with the Seer package.

  Her intuition had told her that Rachelle Lavin was going to be trouble . . . and it had been right. Despite Zeke not hesitating to claim Rachelle as his mate, the female had immediately embarked on a hate campaign with Ally as the target.

  Ally had been shocked when Zeke berated her a few months ago for supposedly insulting his mate. Confused and riled, she’d sought out Rachelle . . . playing right into the woman’s hands, she later realized. Everyone had witnessed her yelling at her Beta female, who had remained calm and cool as she rebuked Ally and gave her pitying looks for her “jealousy.”

  That was when the “Ally’s jealous” tripe had started. And she had quickly found that there wasn’t a good defense against that seventh-grade insult. If Ally ignored it, she was jealous. If she responded with a smart comeback, she was jealous. If she got pissed and told them to go eat shit, she was not only jealous but bitter too.

  Shortly after that incident, Rachelle had claimed that Ally was sending her hateful text messages. Again, Zeke had freaked at Ally. So again, she’d sought out Rachelle, demanding that she produce these fictional messages. To her utter shock and dismay, Rachelle had. Ally had adamantly and loudly denied sending them, insisted that Rachelle must have at some point taken Ally’s cell phone and sent them to herself. Which, of course, sounded plain crazy—yet it was true. But no one other than Ally seemed to see that.

  And so, her pack mates had slowly but surely pulled away from Ally. In the time she’d been part of the Collingwood Pack, she’d healed several of them and had twice saved the pack from conflict through her visions . . . but all of that had ceased to mean anything.

  In their defense, Rachelle was a very convincing liar. She’d made Ally an outsider in her own pack. And thanks to the heifer’s latest stunt, Ally might be cast out.

  “No one’s going to buy your story, Ally,” Clint growled into her ear. Her wolf snapped her teeth at him. The guy certainly had the Prick Factor going on. “No one’s going to believe you. We have a witness who claims they saw you attack Rachelle.”

  “I doubt that.”

  He straightened. “Oh, really? Why?”

  “One, because the assault didn’t happen. Two, because if you did have a witness, you wouldn’t need a confession. As you said, it’s currently my word against Rachelle’s. People might trust her and like her, but that’s not enough to justify an execution. Particularly since there are some gaping holes in Rachelle’s little tale.”

  “Such as?”

  “Why would someone who wanted to kill her run away while she was unconscious? Wouldn’t they take advantage of that moment in which she was totally helpless and deliver a killing blow, considering they were a ‘coward’ and all?”

  Clint was quiet for a moment. “Maybe you heard someone coming. Or maybe you noticed someone was watching.”

  “Or maybe Rachelle’s just talking out of her ass.” Again.

  “You know what I think, Ally?” asked Greg.

  “Oh, this is going to be good,” she muttered sardonically.

  “I think that you didn’t really want to kill Rachelle. I think you just lost your temper at a weak moment. We’ve all acted impulsively with anger at some point, right?” His tone turned soft and understanding. More mind games. “I think that you might have genuinely believed Rachelle had ordered the boys to trash your cabin. You were already very upset with her for taking Zeke from you. You’ve been feeling lost and alone. Jealousy has often got the better of you lately, and who could blame you for that?” Greg actually patted her hand.

  Oh, for Christ’s sake, was she really supposed to buy this oh-so-caring act?

  “When you walked into the cabin and saw the chaos, it was the icing on the cake. You did what anybody would do in that situation. You snapped, and you tracked down the person you convinced yourself was responsible. That was why you fled the scene after attacking Rachelle. Once you saw her unconscious on the ground, your anger dimmed and you felt bad for what you did.”

  “It’s either that,” began Clint, “or you went after Rachelle with the intention of killing her but then lost your confidence at the last moment. Which is it?”

  “Do the right thing and tell us the truth,” encouraged Greg. “Make things easier on yourself. As soon as you confess, this will all be over. Don’t you want this to be over?”

  Yeah, she damn well did. Frick and Frack had kept her in this tiny room for over two hours, and her wolf was at serious risk of losing it. But making a false confession wasn’t on her list of things to do. “I’ve already told you what happened. I have nothing more to say.”

  Clint sighed. “Fine, if that’s how you want to play it.” He looked at Greg. “Call Matt. Maybe he’ll do the execution right here, right now.”

  This was where she was obviously supposed to quiver in fear and finally confess. Instead, she gave a theatrical gasp. “What? Now? But the night is young, boys.”

  “Ally,” Clint gritted out.

  “Bring out the cuffs, let’s have some fun.”

  “Ally.”

  She threw up her arms. “All right, I confess . . . I ransacked my apartment for fun, falsely accused a bunch of well-meaning youths, attacked my Beta female, and then stuck around long enough to be detained and possibly executed.” She shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  Clint’s face flushed again—most likely because when she put it like that, it became clear just how pitiful their argument really was. “Don’t get smart with me.”

  She snickered. “Are you sure you’d know if I did?”

  “I’d say it’s time we—” Greg paused as the door behind her swung open. “Zeke.”

  Oh, goody.

  “She refuses to accept responsibility or—”

  “I’ll take it from here.” Once the enforcers had left and closed the door behind them, Zeke took one of the seats opposite her, his blue eyes tired. He looked tortured, just as he had each time he’d stepped between Ally and Rachelle in the past few months.

  She could feel how deeply it hurt him to choose sides; his pain chafed her nerve endings like sandpaper. That was what it was like for Seers: picking up positive emotions created pleasant, warm sensations. Negative emotions, however, could cause anything from mild discomfort to excruciating pain.

  Despite Zeke’s hurt, Ally couldn’t muster any sympathy for him. They had been in a relationship for almost eighteen months. If there was one person in this pack who knew Ally well, i
t was Zeke. If there was one person who should have seen through all the lies, it was him. Yet even he had jumped on the “Ally can’t be trusted” bandwagon.

  It was hard to believe this male had once spoken of imprinting with her. Wolves who weren’t true mates could still come together and mate through imprinting. It wasn’t uncommon, since shifters knew it wasn’t certain that they would find their true mates. But the process of imprinting hadn’t happened for Ally and Zeke, and she knew why. Although she had cared for him, she’d never loved him.

  Just the same, her wolf had been comfortable and content with Zeke, but she hadn’t wanted him the way a wolf wanted its mate. Their inner wolves “felt” on a level that humans could never surpass: fiercely, wildly, ragingly, and ferociously. Her wolf’s feelings for Zeke had never been that intense and all-consuming.

  “What’s my execution date?” Not that Ally honestly thought Matt would order that. He didn’t have enough evidence to justify it, no matter how much he might wish differently.

  “No one is going to execute you.” Zeke sounded so tired that she almost felt bad for him. Almost.

  “Well then, if you’re going to banish me from the pack, get it over with.” She could have left at any time, but she hadn’t been prepared to let anyone drive her out of her own pack, particularly not some vindictive, unhinged skank. And she’d figured that everyone would see through Rachelle’s act eventually, that because she was innocent the matter would soon fix itself.

  “You’re not going to be banished.”

  Well, that was a surprise. “Does this mean you doubt what your mate claimed I did?”

  Zeke seemed to struggle for words. “I know that it doesn’t sound like you, but you haven’t been yourself lately. I believe you didn’t set out to kill Rachelle, but the fact is that you did assault her. I’ve given you a lot of leeway, Ally. I’ve overlooked a lot of things, but I can’t overlook this. I can’t.”

  “So are Rachelle and I going to have a one-on-one instead?” How grand.