by Colt, Shyla
His words terrified her. How much is he hiding? She’d never find out if she continued her open opposition. Her gut told her the time for rebellion had yet to arrive. Her ego told the wise voice to piss off. Warring with herself, she missed the trip to his house farther on the property. The golden boy had moved out, but only just so. He opened the door and dropped her to her feet. She landed spryly on all fours and hopped back, barking.
“Are you ready to change yet?” He locked the door behind them and moved to the kitchen. “I’ll go get your clothing.”
Wary, she watched him disappear down the hallway. He seemed more at ease here away from prying eyes. He returned with a pair of gray sweatpants and a black Henley. Wolves weren’t prone to shyness, but the thought of being so vulnerable alone with him made her balk.
“I’ll go to the kitchen and make us some hot chocolate. I know how you like yours.” He always reminded her of their connection. As if the good times in the past could make up for the monster he’d become. Life with a loose cannon was like walking a tightrope—one misstep and she’d stumble and tumble to the ground below where no net waited to catch her. Grabbing the clothing clothes with her teeth, she pulled them from the arm of the couch and took them to the bathroom. Breathing deeply, she focused on calming her nerves and connecting with her humanity.
She slammed to the ground as her body contorted and muscles crackled as tendons realigned. Her vision doubled, and she grew light-headed. Breathing hard, she gave herself a moment to adapt to the conversion. She rose on shaky legs, then slowly slipped her legs into the soft pants. After pulling the shirt over her head, she peered in the mirror at her wild hair. Turning on the faucet, she used the water to tame her mane and gathered her thoughts. He was baiting her, giving her just enough detail to pique her curiosity. He’s willing to talk. Get what you can out of him, and use it.
The weight of the innocent members enthralled by the false environment she helped create nearly pulled her down. Hold steady, girl. You’ve got work to do. Her father’s words played in her head as she straightened and walked out of the restroom with her head held high. A true queen doesn’t cower in the face of adversary.
“I see you’ve come to play.” Isiah lifted his mug in a toast.
“It’s not a game.”
“Life is but a game and we the players.”
“Don’t wax poetic on me, Stark.”
His smile faltered. “You’re the only one who could get away with saying that to my face.”
She took the hot chocolate with the peppermint stick, whipped cream, and creamer. “Hmmm.” She took a sip and smirked. “I know.”
“You did more than change outwardly tonight.” He studied her with a small smile. “You smell differently, and your mannerisms are different.”
“Maybe I’m just done hiding.”
“Is that it? I’m not so sure.” He took a sip of his hot chocolate.
“You said you wanted to talk.” She peered at him over the stack of whipped cream.
“This doesn’t have to be the torture chamber you’re making it out to be. You know I’d never lay a hand on you.”
“There are worst things than physical abuse, Isiah. Don’t play coy now.”
“And the hunter becomes the huntress,” he all but purred.
“I’m not hunting you. I think we’ve both established I’d rather be left alone.”
“We’ll come out naturally, being seen together, holding hands, kisses—”
“On the cheek. Seen no more than three times a week on a more personal level.” She wasn’t going to make this arrangement easy for him.
“Why the sudden agreement?” he asked abruptly.
“If I can’t alter my fate, I’m damn sure going to have a hand in shaping it.” She leaned against the counter, crossing her legs at the ankle.
“You look good in my clothes in my kitchen.”
“Don’t mistake my agreement to work with you for anything other than it is, Isiah,” she said sternly.
“I won’t. For now.”
She rolled her eyes. “At least you’re honest.”
“We’ll be together for a lifetime. Trust needs exist between us.”
She jumped on the opening he presented. “Then tell me what you were hinting at earlier.”
“I’ve looked outside of this pack. We’re going to need allies. I worked hard to procure them over the years. I’m not taking over the job as Alpha for no reason. I possess the connections and strength needed to win. Father is no longer in his prime. It’s no secret some of his practices are outdated. He recognizes the fact that I’ll be the tougher Alpha. Remember, Daddy dearest is all about the greater good.” The bitterness in his tone made her ache for him. Ian had always been hardest on his son. Rarely giving praise, he constantly demanded an impossible level of perfection at all times. The dressing down, harsh words, and heavy-handed handling meant to push Isiah to be tough helped mold a sociopath.
“I thought we didn’t trust outsiders.”
“No man is an island. White Creek isn’t exempt from that rule. You fight fire with fire. We need vampires, other packs, and witches on our side to win.”
“You’re going to upset a lot of people,” she observed. His thoughts were sound, the way he went about achieving them was the fucked-up part.
“I’ll be the Alpha. Whatever comes out of my mouth will be magical. It’s like a unicorn … even their shit is rainbow-colored, and smells like fruit.”
She spit out her frothy drink and laughed.
He grinned. “I like it better when you’re happy. I’ve come to count on that from you even when you’re angry with me. Growing up, you and Dorothy were my anchors. Those never-changing people who didn’t expect more than I could deliver.”
“Siah.” The childhood nickname was out before she could stop it. “You can rule your way. You don’t have to follow your father’s vision.” She reached out to the little boy who’d made her laugh after her father’s death, and never minded when she tagged along with him and his friends.
“Just like you, I’m trapped by the role I have to play, Joss.” He smiled at her sadly. The sorrow was gone in the blink of an eye by a too wide grin and strain around the eyes. “Enough of the trip down memory lane. How shall we come out?”
Lose a battle to win the war. She repeated the chant in her head to combat the intense wave of defeat that battered at her psyche.
* * *
Joss opened the door to find her distraught best friend on the front porch. Her eyes were wide, and her usually perfect coif was frizzy and mused. Brook pulled her thick tresses back into a messy bun. Her neon pink pajama pants with unicorns on them were covered by an oversized gray sweater that said ‘Sleep’ across the chest; both were deeply creased with wrinkles. She’d literally stumbled from bed to come here the minute she’d hung up the phone. The Alpha had prevented Joss from contacting anyone or going anywhere other than the main house for a week.
Buffed, waxed, polished, and damn near interrogated, she was groomed insistently about what to say and how to act when they reintroduced her to society. Food was withheld, and she was constantly placed in the sauna to cleanse herself. More like weakened to make more susceptible to suggestion and cohesion. She felt like a specimen. A creation invented in the laboratory that they were preparing to release into society.
Biting her tongue, she’d remained quiet and pliant while she silently ragged on the inside. At the moment, she was walking on a razor’s edge with the Alpha. He watched her every move carefully and questioned her motives, coaching, berating, and correcting every time she gave a response he deemed unsatisfactory. The sympathetic glances from Isiah stung. He remembered all too well what this was like. Could she blame him for being twisted? Even now her muscles clenched and her stomach spasmed as she remembered the treatment.
“Where the hell have you been?” Brook shouted as she stepped into the house.
Joss held a finger up to her lips, closed the door.
/> “Are you kidding me right now?” Brook huffed.
“Shh.” Joss jerked her thumb down the hallway. Brook scowled as she followed behind her. They entered the den, and Joss turned on a twenty-one pilots record. Cranking up the volume, she rushed back to the kitchen, turned on the dishwasher, and started the washing machine.
“Joss!”
“I want to make sure our conversation is private.” Her paranoia was at a fevered pitch.
“You are scaring the hell out of me.” Brook grabbed Joss’s arm and stopped her in the middle of the hall. “No one would tell me where you went or if you were okay. I’ve been worried sick. My sleep has been shit all week. I’ve dropped five pounds. Everyone had a different theory about how you changed, and why you disappeared. None of them were reassuring. I’m done waiting to hear answers.”
“I know.” Joss covered Brook’s hand. “And I am sorry. But it was taken out of my hands.” Joss gestured toward her room with her head. “Come on. Let’s go to my room, and I’ll tell you everything.”
Brook ground her teeth.
“I promise.”
“What happened, Joss?” Brook asked softly as she followed her into the large room.
“I made a deal with the devil, that’s what.” Joss closed the door to her bedroom, and they collapsed on the sofa that was set against the wall. The light streaming into the pale blue bedroom from the bay window with a view of the forest did nothing to lighten the mood.
“Start talking, woman,” Brook growled in the back of her throat.
“Everything I tell you has to stay between us.”
“Like you had to give me a disclaimer.”
“I know. I’m just reeling. After I ran, I ended up at the lake. It started to snow, and my father appeared in wolf form.”
“Are you sure it was him?” The disbelief oozing from Brook’s stiff, closed-off body language was nearly offensive.
“He spoke to me through our familial bond. Who else could do that?”
“You had a lot going on that day, Joss. I don’t want you to let a delusion dictate—”
“It wasn’t in my head,” Joss insisted. “He gave me the information I needed, and a message for my mother she clearly understood. The land is special. There are more things on heaven and earth.”
“Psst. I’m not Horatio, and you aren’t Shakespeare.” Brook placed her hands on her hips.
“No, but the Native American lore originated for a reason. There’s a pack out there now, an old pack of ancient descent.”
Brook’s brow furrowed. “We’re the only one in this area. You know that.”
“Do I?” Joss cocked her head to the side. “Do you? Think about it. If you had that much power, would it be impossible to hide your presence?”
“I suppose it wouldn’t. But why the hell would you?” Brook asked.
“The Native Americans dealings with new people weren’t exactly ideal. Think about the way Alpha acts about the outside and his paranoia is unmitigated in comparison to anything the Native American pack may feel.”
“How is it possible though?” Brook marveled.
“We’re made of magic and hide in plain sight. Is it shocking to know there’s more out there we’ve yet to uncover? My father told me, the wolves are displeased with what’s happening. The deterioration of our magic and the laws that have guided us disturb them. He thinks they might be persuaded to get back in the game.”
“Okay, this is all great in theory, but realistically, how in the hell do you plan to do that?” Brook sucked her teeth.
“Well, I’d have to find them first. But they see my birthmark as a long-awaited sign.”
Brook puckered her lips. “Oh, really? They do?” She raised her voice a few octaves, mockingly.
“Shut it,” Joss mumbled. “Do you know the Blackfoot legend of the Wolf Man?”
“Where the two wives try to murder the husband by making him fall into a pit?” Brook’s brow wrinkled.
“That’s the one.” Joss nodded. “It’s more than lore.”
“The thought of them lurking in the woods watching us undetected all of this time is terrifying. I mean, none of us have sensed them.” Brook shuddered.
“It speaks to their power. We need them on our side if we’re going to come out on top.”
“You’re really going to look for them?” Brook toyed with the hem of her sweater.
Joss rubbed the back of her neck. “I have to. Isiah has who knows how many allies waiting in the wings.”
“He told you this?” Brook asked skeptically.
“Once I agreed to play the part of smitten, soon-to-be girlfriend, he couldn’t share enough.”
“You didn’t.” The horror in Brook’s voice embarrassed her.
“I had to. He saved my ass with the Alpha who was none too happy about my jaunt through the town as a wolf. I’ve spent a week being reamed out and coordinating plans. If it wasn’t for Isiah, I’m sure he would’ve forced me to go into reconciliation.”
Brook cringed. The intense retraining program to right wrongs was notorious for its awfulness.
“Alpha doesn’t like having his thunder stolen,” Joss said sullenly.
“This is madness.”
“You wanted me to bring change. You can’t change your mind because you don’t approve of my tactics.” Joss folded her arm under her breasts.
“Why now?” Brook asked.
“I feel it here.” She placed a hand on her stomach. “And waiting is a non-option. I can only pretend with Isiah for so long before reality expects us to take bigger moves.”
“Why would he agree to this?” Brook questioned.
“I thought about that. I believe it’s to keep face. He can only take so much rejection and save face. Right now, he needs to look strong for the others. A rocky transfer of power could destroy everything that’s been built. They need to have confidence in him.”
“And you? What do you get out of this mess?” Brook gestured with her hands.
“I get more time and an inside look at what’s happening behind the scenes. The system is broken. These are the fracture lines before the big break. If we don’t stop it, I feel like it’ll be like Humpty Dump syndrome. There’ll be no putting anything back together again.”
Brook shook her head. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”
“It’s the only move left on the board.” Joss toyed with the ends of her ponytail.
“What can I do to help?” Brook sighed.
“Help me figure out how to find this pack and keep me sane.”
“Well, when you’re asking for so little,” Brook drawled sarcastically.
Joss shoved her playfully, relieved that the tension had lightened. She was on board, even if she was skeptical.
“Thank you. I’ve started doing research about the Native Americans who lived here, and the legend itself, but I’m not sure what I’m looking for.
“And Isiah?”
“Is planning on taking me for coffee after the big meeting everyone will gather for tomorrow afternoon.”
“Are they going to talk about your shift?”
Joss nodded. “And what it means for our people. It’s a spin job, but we both know the Alpha is as slick as an oil spill.”
“All of this insanity aside, are you okay?” Brook grabbed her hands.
“I’m numb. It’s all happening so fast. I can barely catch my breath before I’m pulled under again.”
Brook squeezed her hand. “I’m here. Let me help.”
“Can we take a break from all of this and just be us?” Joss’s voice was small and shaky. Tomorrow her entire life would be turned upside down. Today, she wanted to burrow deep into normalcy.
Getting up, Brook tugged her hands. “Come on, we’ll bake brownies, drink White Russians, and I’ll tell you about the last date I went on.”
“Have I heard this story?” Joss asked, rising to follow her friend.
“No. Your life got infinitely more interesting, and it co
mpletely slipped my mind during our last conversations.”
Joss snickered. “I’m terribly sorry about that.”
“Me too. I have some serious horror story moments I needed to hash over with my best friend.”
“Trust me when I say I’m all ears now.” She wiggled her ears, and Brook giggled. Humor was a release they both needed. Brook linked their arms. Soaking up the silent support and acceptance from her best friend, she put the rest of her worries on the back burner. They’d be there waiting for her to pick up tomorrow.
“Who was your victim … I mean date?”
Brook gasped. “For shame, Joss Weber. You shut your mouth. Any wolf would be lucky to have me.”
“Oh, I agree. It’s just their ability to handle you that makes a match difficult.”
“Well, you’re not wrong there.” Brook gave her the side-eye. “Don’t get me wrong. There are some great guys in the pack.”
“But you can bulldoze them with your eyes closed, and you’ll never be truly attracted to that particular personality type?” Joss supplied.
“Ugh. Exactly. I mean, I can do easygoing, but I need a man who has the ability to stand up to me and tell me to slow my roll. You know? A best friend and a boyfriend all in one?”
“And yet you were trying to pawn them off on me.”
Brook sniffed. “Who knew what you liked? If it’s not your dream lover, you’re not interested.”
“He’s not my lover.”
“Yet.”
“So now you believe he exists?” Joss asked, exasperation evident in her voice.
“I think you do,” Brook replied elusively.
“Oh no, this is all or nothing, sister.” Joss slipped her arm free and grabbed the Kahlúa from the fridge while Brook freed the vodka from the cabinet.
“Are you still dreaming about him?”
Joss grabbed two tumblers and paused. She hadn’t told her friend about the strange way the dreams had changed. Filling the tumblers with crushed ice from the fridge, she wrestled with her desire to keep things to herself. “It’s different now.”
