Bile rose in his throat as Cole tried to imagine it.
“Or we decide we no longer want you and throw you in jail for various offences.” He leant in close enough that Cole felt his breath on his cheeks. It took all his willpower not to flinch away. “Our kind don’t do well in a confined space, Cole. The walls start to close in after a while, the urge to shift and run gradually getting worse until the need becomes unbearable.”
Curiosity got the better of Cole. “Prisoners aren’t allowed to shift?” Even as new as he was to this life, after shifting once, Cole couldn’t imagine not being able to do it again. Ever.
Simon shrugged. “They get a mandatory half-hour run on the full moon.”
Well, that’s something.
His thoughts must have shown on his face because Simon laughed. “Believe me, that’s not enough. Nowhere near.”
“But they’re not in there forever, right?” Aaron and Logan had glossed over this because if that happened, he was fucked anyway. No point worrying about it.
“Some get out. Depends on the crime.” His lip curled up into a sneer. “But if McKillan decides we can’t trust you to join our pack, then that means you can’t join any pack. And we can’t have a rogue shifter running around packless, can we?”
So life imprisonment for him, then.
Fuck.
Sweat broke out on the back of his neck, unable to shake the fear that gripped him this time.
Have I made a mistake?
Should I have stayed with the Mothecombe pack? Or gone to Jersey with my parents?
Deep down Cole knew he’d done the right thing; there were more people like him who needed saving from shifter-imposed rules. More than the Candidate Evacuation Group could ever hope to rescue. He had a chance to help the CEG, and running away to safety wasn’t something he could live with.
Didn’t mean the doubts ever went away though.
Especially not with Simon looming over him—about six foot three of solid muscle.
Intimidating seemed a wholly inadequate way to describe him.
“So...” Simon leaned in closer and rested his hands on the back of Cole’s chair, bringing them face to face. “I get that you didn’t want this. A lot of candidates don’t at first.” He breathed in deep, eyes lighting up at whatever scents were rolling off Cole. “And I understand that you’re scared. You should be. But the reality is that you’re a shifter now and you need a pack. You need McKillan to want you enough that he allows you to join this pack. Do you understand me?”
Cole nodded. “Yes.” He gripped the ends of the chair arms. This was it.
“You need to prove to us that you want to join, that you can be loyal to a pack, that you will be loyal to this pack and this pack only. In order to do that, we need to know everything you know. Every last little detail, no matter how insignificant you think it is.”
“I don’t know much, I—”
Simon slapped a hand over his mouth, the force of it pushing Cole back against the chair. “That’s not the attitude I’m looking for, Cole.” He tsked softly, the sound more menacing than if he’d yelled. “Do you think we’re going to sit here and ask you nicely?”
His condescending smile made Cole want to punch him.
Hard.
“We kept a tight lid on your escape, but these things have a way of leaking out. You made us look incompetent. Opened our pack up for ridicule. We can’t have that.”
The door opened, and three more shifters entered the room.
Shit.
Jacob had warned him about this too, but that didn’t make it any less terrifying. They stood silently against the back wall, watching. Jacob had promised one of them would be on his side, so to speak, but seeing them now, they all looked hard-faced and unwelcoming.
“Members of this pack died as a result of you escaping. Did you kill any of them?”
Cole answered before his brain had fully registered the question, before his body could betray him. “No.” He shook his head for good measure, widening his eyes to hopefully look sincere.
