by E Hall
“Revenge.” My father stares blankly ahead.
“For what?” Corbin asks.
We’re all quiet for a few miles until the wolf-way chatter from the other vehicles gets louder.
Corbin pulls abruptly to the side of the road and gets out of the Jeep. “Stay here,” he orders as he plunges into the woods bordering the road.
The moon spills milky light over papery birch trees. The damp air excites my wolf with the desire to run, but under it, I pick up another scent.
Death.
I hurry after Corbin and my ghost-dad follows silently.
The other wolves are right behind us.
My super sight reveals a grisly scene of a maimed man lying on the forest floor. He wears hunting fatigues. I recall the hunters at the bakery and wonder if he’s one of them.
“This was the work of a night howl,” my father says.
Corbin scrubs his hand down his face. I sense he’s about to shift.
My father says, “Visalia did this.”
“Who?” I ask.
“Visalia. My father, Alden Johannsson, a cursed werewolf, bit her,” Greyson says.
Chapter 20
Corbin
I can’t help but feel like I’m losing my grip, losing touch. Yet another death on my land and under my watch. It pains me. And enrages me.
“Visalia?” I ask, recalling my encounter and Amanda’s betrayal in Richard Dubois’s house. Then an older memory comes back. “She was Logan’s mate.” The pulse in my chest thrums, drums, roars. “What do you mean that she was the fae your father bit?” I ask Greyson.
Standing by her father’s side, I want Kenna to understand that this isn’t about her. Rather, the fate of our kind. As much as I care about her, at her core, she’s no different from Greyson. He did experiments on vampires, rounded up wolves to use for battle, and worse.
“I don’t know much other than my father was turned shortly after he and Isa, my mother, met. She tended to him and was able to relieve him of the curse, but not before they were attacked by the fae. In the fight, a fae named Visalia was bitten and presumably turned into a werewolf.”
The wind shifts. My hackles lift as a specific kind of uneasiness comes over me, causing my breath to come shallow. My wolf rises toward the surface, sensing a threat.
“The locals were talking about going hunting for whatever was killing the woodsmen,” Trigg says when we meet in the woods.
“And the authorities have started their investigation,” Baker adds.
I falter, unsure if we should report this. If federal agents come in, we’re sure to be exposed. I trust the locals, but the national officials are a different ballgame. Squinting into the depths of the woods, I catch a rippling scent.
I turn to Greyson. “What can you tell us about Visalia?” I sense her presence.
“Ruthless, cunning, out for blood,” Greyson says.
Something in the air wrinkles and a shadow streaks past the trees in the distance.
Greyson, Kenna, and the others follow my gaze.
“She’s there, hunting, preparing for the kill,” I say in a low voice.
Adrenaline replaces concern.
The air remains still for a few minutes as we form a circle with our backs to the body of the hunter. Perhaps she’s coming back for seconds. The hairs on my arms stand up, pressing against the insides of my shirtsleeves.
I scan the woods, following the changes in the air currents, the crinkle of the leaves, and other night sounds. The back of my neck prickles. I crouch. In a blink, my wolf leaps out of me.
Fur glides over my skin as my power comes in full force. The betas follow suit. Kenna remains in physical form. My wolf gazes into her beautiful face, but it’s like we’re on two sides of a window. My wolf frets that my lie makes her unreachable. Distracted, claws dig into me, thrusting me to the ground. I eat it, hard.
I’m face to face with a werewolf. Her eyes are a deep, sickening shade of yellow. Her lips pull back into a snarl and the wispy fur billowing around her head is light brown, wild.
I kick out but her jaw closes around my ankle and drags me backward. I writhe and flail, snarling to get loose, but her teeth tighten.
I wince. Blood beads and then trickles. I manage to drop my jaw on her flank. I meet her eyes. Endless and empty.
The werewolf smells putrid like rot and thrashes me around like a rag-doll. I kick, but she crashes down on me, holding me against the ground. Thankfully, she doesn’t break the skin.
I don’t panic, but wonder why my betas haven’t stepped in. Shoving upward, she falters, I roll out from under her.
Shaken, I get to my feet, but she races out of sight.
My betas, now in wolf form, take off after her, barking furiously. I don’t take my eyes from the woods. I see a flash of teeth and consider following in pursuit, but have to look after Kenna and her father...who’s no longer a shadow against the backdrop of night. He’s gone.
I shift back to physical form, scrambling around for my clothing. “Where’d Greyson go?”
Kenna’s face slackens like sadness threatens to wash over her again. She stares into the near distance.
“Can you look at me?”
As she shakes her head no, I brush her jaw with my fingers. A charge of delight, of flame not extinguishable by anything, not even magic, rushes through me, charging me with renewed energy. Yet, my breath, my heart, and my pulse falter.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
She sinks back and away from me.
Her eyes are a shade so beautiful, it’s sure to be nameless. However, her movements are twitchy, like she’s nervous. Not meeting my gaze, she says, “I’ll stand for my father’s crimes.”
I swallow and then clear my throat.
“No.”
The wind gusts, disturbing the leaves that remain on the trees.
“I’m afraid, Corbin.”
“Of what?”
“Of myself. Of what I might become.”
She quavers. Then the night fills with light, emanating from her hands in rings of yellow, orange, and white. Fae magic.
My skin crawls with the awareness that she’s given into her fae nature. A terribly beautiful song falls from her lips, tempting, mesmerizing, drawing me close. The tune rises and falls to the pounding and fluttering in my chest.
Under the spell of her song, the world spins, spins, and spins away from me as I try to find my way back, searching for the meaning in her eyes to match her words love, light, forever. She tells me I’m lucky, I’m hers. I’m a king. I try to slither away from the lies, but her eyes, her song, and her lips as they grow closer, pull me in, and lock me into the desire to give her whatever she wants.
Then there’s another hum, movement in what is otherwise a world on pause. It’s a drum or the beat of a heart. Her wolf breaks the fae spell.
I don’t think. I don’t calculate. I don’t hesitate. I nip her and we both shift, taking off into the woods as shouts come at our backs.
“Spears, guns, napalm if we have to. We will do it properly this time,” a man says.
A pause indicates someone responds in a lower voice.
“I don’t care about property boundaries. We will level these woods until there isn’t anything living, breathing, or killing,” the angry voice hollers.
Must be vigilantes. Now we share any enemy.
Kenna and I slow down. She stalks by my side as we near the road. She’d gripped her clothing between her teeth and drops it. Her lip lifts into a snarl, a warning.
We both shift back to physical form, dress, and scramble up the embankment toward the vehicles.
The wind sends another gust of putrid air in my direction. It’s not quite the same as the werewolf. My wolf growls. “I hate to say it, but I think I shifted too soon.”
From the other end of the road, two figures approach. They stumble like the ground is slippery or like they’re drunk. Not betas. More hunters? Not likely.
I assume a fighting sta
nce, ready to shift again. My Alpha wants to protect her. I know that I need to find Greyson and bring them to the Council.
Kenna’s eyes are steely, determined. She shoots her magic in their direction and then rushes toward one of the cars behind the Jeep. “I’m not sorry, Corbin.” The engine revs, and she takes off.
I won’t leave my betas out there with the werewolf loose. I won’t let someone else die. I draw my wolf to the surface.
The two figures brush off the magic Kenna used. They look human, but I sense grim magic.
In one swift motion, I’m thrust backward, interrupting my shift. I howl as I skid across the cement road. They pin me down.
I smell low tide and menace.
The female’s voice gurgles my name. Scum oozes between her teeth. Her eyes are pupil-less and uneven.
My blood runs cold.
Goblins.
“We’ve come for you,” the male breathes in a sulfuric voice. His eyes are slits, filling me with dread. “You’re coming with us.”
“Not a chance,” I say, kicking out. But before I can break loose, everything goes dark.
My fingers are numb. I wince as I lift my pounding head off the ground. The low, blue light of a whitewashed afternoon filters in through a single, cracked window high above. I listen. The soft whistle of the wind. The particular cool scent of a dewy morning.
I blink my eyes. What happened? The night comes back—transporting Greyson and Kenna back to Concordia, discovering another death, the fight in the woods with the werewolf, Kenna leaving me in a whirl of fae magic, and then my capture by a pair of goblins.
Ropes bind my wrists and ankles. I wiggle my fingers and toes to work blood into them, but the numbness remains a cold ache.
I press onto my shoulder to get onto my knees. Keeling over, I try again, more slowly this time. I clang into an old rake and some gardening tools.
I listen again. Silence. “Hello?” I call. The cold air catches in my throat and I cough. No reply.
A rod leans against the wall across from me. I worm my way over, knock it down, and then struggle to grasp it. I wedge it under the rope, working it looser. A loud bang shakes the shed. Contorting my limbs, I growl with the effort to break free when the door flies open.
Chapter 21
Kenna
My fae magic swells inside. Like summoning my wolf, it exists just beneath the surface. I can call upon it at will. Wielding it is another issue altogether.
Leaving Corbin on the roadside wasn’t easy, but maybe fate was wrong. How could he double-cross me like that?
If his answer is to protect me, I can protect myself thank you very much. And considering I tracked him to the garden shed behind Lonsdale, it looks like he needs some assistance at the moment.
Instead of blasting the door to the shed, I use a good, old fashioned kick when the latch doesn’t work. The door doesn’t budge.
A faint mark glows on the wooden frame of the entry. I trace my finger over it and feel a trace of magic. I summon my own. I feel it rise along with my wolf—perhaps because I’m in such close proximity to Corbin. At least, I hope it’s him and this isn’t a trap.
The magic crackles at my fingertips and I cast it at the marking on the door. It explodes, sending sparks like fireworks.
The door flies open.
My mate is in physical form, wriggling and writhing as he works on getting free as an errant spark of my magic flies past his head.
His eyes are wide. “Couldn’t you have kicked it open?” he asks.
“I tried, but how about a thank you for coming to my rescue even though you don’t deserve it?”
“Thank you.” He gets to his feet and tosses off the ropes.
The marking on the doorframe pulses, sizzles, and then fades to nothing.
Corbin eyes it with an arched brow. “That was a Rune of Closure. No wonder you couldn’t use force.” He points to my fingers. “Must’ve been beginner’s luck, and I consider myself lucky you didn’t blow my head off.”
“I can’t say it didn’t cross my mind.” I scowl.
Our gazes meet. His eyes dip. I incline my head. Then Corbin’s arms are around me, and he presses his lips against mine. My inhale catches sharply. I kiss him back with fury, with passion, with fear this may be another last time. My wolf whines inside.
My hands don’t know where to land as they glide over his arms, shoulders, back, neck, and to his jaw. I want to pull him closer at the same time that I want to push him away.
I want the love we shared back, but I’m not sure it can overcome the lies. His rough stubble scratches my cheek, sanding away what I thought I wanted in order to reveal what I need.
Around our kiss, I say, “Corbin, I want the truth, whatever it takes.”
He draws back and the scowl that had darkened his features softens. I can’t deny the wash of warmth that flows through me at his ruggedly handsome face.
I hold up my fingers, still shimmering with magic. “If you try to capture me and bring me to the Council, I will use my magic against you.”
He holds his hands up in surrender.
“I’m not ready to hear your apology, but the werewolf is out there, and the betas need your help. The humans need your help. They need my help too. I thought I had to prove myself to the pack. In reality, I just want to do the right thing.”
Corbin draws a deep breath. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I was acting without thinking. Following orders, when I’m an Alpha. A leader. I know better than that. My role is to think for myself. I know you’re not a monster. Dangerous, maybe, but not more so than deceit. That can be the ruin of many good people.”
I move to kiss him again when my wolf’s hackles prickle.
Corbin stiffens. His eyes grow wide.
Then I pitch forward and meet the ground with a smash before everything goes dark.
I wake to a fetid stench that overpowers the earthy smell of the garden and fields. Am I still at Lonsdale? Where is Corbin? I’m groggy and my head aches.
The indistinct murmur of voices comes from nearby. “Make sure they’re both tied up,” says a familiar voice followed by a thin laugh.
“The wolf is husky,” a gurgling voice says as a figure lands beside me with a painful sounding thud.
“Oof,” I mutter when his right arm and leg land on mine.
“Corbin, wake up.” It isn’t friendly to kick my mate in the shin, but in this bound position, I can’t shake or otherwise rouse him. I kick him again.
He moans.
“Seriously. This is bad. We need to—”
“You need to what?” Clove hovers over me with his hands on hips and his face stony.
Once more, my heart sinks into flame. Anger. Betrayal. “What is going on?” I croak.
“Considering you’re the one tied up in my house, I don’t have to do anything.”
I blink my surroundings into focus. Sheets cover furniture, I smell mildew, and a clock ticks a lonely beat in the background.
“Whose house?” I spit.
I’m in Lonsdale. After I left Corbin on the edge of the woods, I came here, thinking this was where my father fled.
“I like to think of it as my place. A consolation prize for not having a father.” Clove leans on a side table and crosses his arms over his chest then stacks one leg over the other like this is a casual affair, and we’re just over for tea.
“But he didn’t know about you.”
“Likely story.” Clove’s lip curls.
“No, he truly didn’t. We think your mother, Jana, used a spell on him. She ensorcelled him.”
He snorts, but a subtle twitch in his eyes suggests a crack in his composure.
The foul stench of rot wafts through the cold air. The pair who abducted us gurgle a laugh.
“Corbin wasn’t supposed to be a character in this chapter of our little adventure. This was supposed to be down to us. Brother and sister. But he had to go and be your mate.” Clove kicks Corbin in the side.
&
nbsp; He hardly flinches.
“With his ability to track you, I couldn’t take any risks and captured him too.”
“What do you want, Clove?”
His face lights up. “I want it all. The keys to the kingdom, as it were. I’ve spent years searching, studying. Well, it turns out that you’re the key.” He chuckles.
“We could have been family,” I say, trying to appeal to a part of him I hope is inside.
“Family? Something like that. It works differently in our world than it does for humans who get married, settle down, and have kids. Sure, you’re a mutt, being part wolf and vampire, but the fae in you owes a debt.”
I fight to get to my feet. I’m tired of lies and confusion. For once, instead of asking questions, I’m ready to give answers. They’re no and no and no. I don’t accept it. Fate or not, I choose what I do and who I do it with. A growl presses against my lips.
Corbin’s eyes flash open and widen. “Kenna,” he says as Clove casts a tendril of icy white magic, freezing me in place.
I wouldn’t have been able to get out of the way anyway since I’m still bound.
A strange feeling fills my thoughts—it’s not a smell or taste or event exactly. But it is familiar and deeply sensory. I’ve been in the presence of that particular magic before. My breath catches in my chest.
Beside me, Corbin strains and bucks against the bonds. At least he’s awake.
I go deep inside, searching for a way to loosen Clove’s hold or at least find my voice. I call upon my wolf who wants nothing more than to howl and bite. The vampire inside is ready to scream and pound. But the fae within me knows how to release Clove’s hold. It takes a moment before I can speak.
It’s like the electrons and neutrons in my blood suddenly contract and then begin to expand, threatening to release a gigawatt of electricity or magic.
My breath moves deep. My heart pounds.
Then I say, “You were there the night Amanda attacked me in the woods. The night she died. I recognize your magic, Clove.”
He tips his head back and laughs. “You’re clever, I’ll give you that.”
