Scent of Salvation (Chronicles of Eorthe #1) by Annie Nicholas

shifter after all. Yet Ahote had deferred to Inali earlier this evening without a squabble. It sounded like he had tried to defend Susan. A commendable thing in a male, but it had stung to watch the rough treatment of the human.
    She was a delicate creature, easily broken. A fire in his gut, which had nothing to do with hunger, burned at the memory of the scratches and the wide-eyed hurt on her face. He’d seen such looks in his past from his pack mates. Chaska had no business attacking her. Susan knew nothing of shifters and their laws. One taught before reprimanding errors.
    How his heart had swelled when Susan had confronted Inali. Even from this distance, Sorin could smell the alpha’s confusion at this strange creature’s action. Sorin couldn’t think of a single female in his pack who would have done that. Not even Lailanie, his most dominant female.
    Ahote strode toward him with three other large males who shifted to feral form—something not usually done in the den. As Ahote stood before Sorin, he crossed his arms over his chest.
    Sorin smirked. “Four against one. I’m flattered.”
    “You’re an alpha in size if not honor. I’m not stupid enough to fool myself into thinking I could take you on.” Ahote gestured to the males with him. “Inali ordered for you to be lowered for the night and chained to the wall like an Apisi dog.”
    The insult didn’t sting. He’d been called that by other packs all his life due to his father’s behavior. Were they dogs? Not anymore. Not under his rule. He’d made right the wrongs.
    As they lowered him to the ground, his arms dropped. A sharp zing of agony shot up both limbs, traveling to his back. His knees buckled but he caught himself before hitting the ground. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing his pain.
    They put a metal collar around his neck that linked to a chain embedded in the stone wall. One of the males tossed a water skin at Sorin’s feet.
    Ahote crouched next to him. “You have a few admirers. Would you like company to keep you warm for the night?”
    “So you can all watch?”
    The dark shifter laughed. “Of course. I don’t do this out of the kindness of my heart.”
    “I don’t indulge in females.” Sorin gulped the cold, crisp water.
    “Mated?”
    He shook his head, too thirsty to talk.
    Ahote sneered. “Males?”
    Sorin choked on the water. “No, but you’re almost pretty enough, Ahote, to make me change my mind.” How he loved watching the flash of anger in the other shifter’s eyes. Sorin hadn’t taken any lovers since he’d become alpha. There were too many issues to fix within his pack to find the time to search since no one in his den stirred his desires.
    With a snarl, Ahote rose and spun, leaving with his companions. The gathering room was empty now except for a low-burning fire in the pit.
    As soon as the sound of the shifters’ departure faded from Sorin’s hearing, he examined his collar with the tips of his fingers. They really kept such faith in vampire crafts?
    Shifters worked well with natural material like wood and stone. The vampires designed things of metal—monstrosities such as cannons and muskets, also machines that worked on coal, which polluted their air.
    The longer he remained trapped here, the more his pack would weaken. At least Peder had returned with the flowers for the fever before this disaster had occurred.
    He worked the collar around until he could finger the lock. Obviously the Payami were a more civilized yet naïve pack if they thought no one could pick it. When his father was displeased with someone, chaining them was a common occurrence, but there’d been times when he’d forget where or how long they’d been imprisoned. Sorin, with the aid of the other pups such as Peder, learned to watch for disappearances and track scents like full-grown hunters. They’d also learned a few tricks about locks.
    If he shifted, the collar would strangle him—all vampire metal could withstand