The Transporter's Favor by C.M. Simpson (pride and prejudice read .txt) 📕

to wait, happy that my pack was happy, and sad that I would soon be exiled from them.

Now, why the fuck was that?

8—Goodbye to the Pack

“Come,” Rovan said, and turned me about, walking back through his squad with me sheltered under his arm…or, possibly, using his arm to make sure I’d do as he wanted. Either way, I should have realized that the storage center the wolves kept referring to was in the medical center. As we headed through the door, I half-expected Doc to meet us, and then kick us right back out, again.

Doc ruled his clinic with an iron hand, one which Mack ignored on a regular basis, but at his own peril. The wolf in medical whites came as an unpleasant alternative to the fierce old man.

“Doctor Rakman,” Rovan said, as the medic walked over to stand before us.

“You found the missing one?”

At least he sounded appropriately impressed. Rovan’s arm ceased being a comfort, and I pushed experimentally against it to see if I could slip out from under. He shifted his grip, moving his hand to take me by the scruff of the neck. I twisted my neck, and he squeezed.

“We still have an agreement.”

I stilled, flicking a glance towards him, and then towards the doctor.

“When does your custody end?”

“When I hand her over for storage.”

Rakman looked past us, appearing to register the squad for the first time. I watched his eyes widen, and then he looked back to Rovan, and down to me.

“You made her pack?”

“It seemed the best way to keep her alive.”

Rakman lifted a lip in amusement.

“She doesn’t seem to be that much trouble.”

I smiled, but it wasn’t a very happy smile. Rakman caught it, and his amusement disappeared.

“I see,” he said. “Well, bring her over. I’ll need to borrow Lomis for data retrieval, but the rest of you can go as soon as the paper work is signed.”

He turned away, and Rovan followed, taking me with him. I raised my hands to his, and he snarled. I resisted the urge to snarl back, remembering I was still pack, and he was still my pack leader—at least for a little while longer.

We walked further into Doc’s domain, until Rakman stopped and pointed to a pod three from the bottom in the rack.

“That one,” he said, and looked up at Rovan. “You can come back once I have your signature on the transfer.”

“Agreed.”

He glanced down at me, and I thought I caught a touch of regret in his expression.

“Be a good pup,” he said, and his hand left my neck and ruffled my hair. “Say goodbye to your pack.”

The others had crowded in after me, Lomis standing closest, and looking like he had no plans to shift. Rovan looked at him.

“Take care of her while you are here,” he said, and I wondered at the meaning layered between his words.

Neither of them explained, and the rest of the squad parted to let the pack leader leave, before closing in around me. I looked up at Keromil, flashing him a glance, and then looking away.

“Goodbye, pup,” he said, ruffling my hair, and then his presence left my head, and he walked away.

That…hurt. I raised my head in time to see him leave the room. He didn’t look back, and the next wolf stepped in to take his place.

“Goodbye. Be no trouble.”

More hair-ruffling, and another presence was gone from my mind. Honestly, it was like being kicked. I nodded, ducking my head so he could not see the pain in my eyes. And it got worse from there. Each goodbye was harder, the sorrow of each departure striking deep, and I wondered if the tears could be held back until the last wolf had gone, or if I would embarrass myself by having them fall before it was done.

Honestly…I should have been relieved to have my privacy back. Instead, each farewell was like watching a piece of me leave. The last huge shadow turned away, and I leant against the pod, keeping my head down and resisting the urge to howl. The warmth of yet another presence was an unwelcome reminder that the goodbyes were not yet over.

“Pack Leader,” I whispered, recognizing his scent, and stifling a faint sense of betrayal.

“I did not realize you would bond so quickly,” he said, placing a hand on each of my shoulders, and stooping to set his forehead against mine, “but it cannot be, not while the contract is in play. We will seek you out when it is done, and see what remains.”

I leant into him, as much as he would allow, not understanding why I wanted him to stay, why the loss of my enforced pack mates was tearing through me like a fistful of claws.

“It is the way of pack,” Rovan said, as though that explained everything, “and you walk the path of every exile before you, although you should have only been walking the path of a captive released. You should not have bonded, as you are. You’re not lupar, only human.”

I wanted to argue, but he shook me gently, and the rebellion fell away, eaten by the growing morass of grief.

“You will be fine,” Rovan said. “Your pack is here. Your Hunt Master, two pods up, his second below him. Your own pup and pack mate is healing, over there. When I leave, you will not be alone.”

His words held a strength of their own, and I nodded, wondering why Abby had not picked Mack and Tens up on her scans.

“Our shuttle holds are shielded, and they were not transferred until after your capture,” Rovan explained. “Now, be a good pup.”

He clapped my shoulders gently, before straightening up and turning away.

I whimpered as the link between us broke, but he did not stop, and he did not turn back. This time, I watched him walk, until he stepped through a door and disappeared from sight. My vision blurred, and I realized I was going to embarrass myself, after all.

Lomis had not