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What a Wolf's Heart Decides (Lux Catena Book 4)

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by Amy Pennza




  What a Wolf’s Heart Decides

  Book 4 in the Lux Catena Series

  Amy Pennza

  First edition published by

  Scribble Pretty Books October 2020

  1st digital Edition

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Copyright © 2020 by Amy Pennza

  All rights reserved.

  Created with Vellum

  The Lux Catena Series

  What a Wolf Dreams: A Lux Catena Series Prequel

  What a Wolf Desires

  What a Wolf Dares

  What a Wolf Demands

  What a Wolf’s Heart Decides

  “She warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within.” — Beauty and the Beast

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Amy Pennza

  1

  This was going to be the best birthday ever.

  Haley Michaels pulled the stack of invitations off the printer and thumbed through them, checking for typos. She snorted under her breath. It would be just her luck to hand out fifty invites printed with the wrong date.

  Because she could not mess this up. Everything had to go perfectly. This was her chance to show her fellow trainees she had something to offer—that she was worthy of attention despite not having a Gift.

  She pushed away from the desk and stood, then clutched the invitations to her chest. Around her, the familiar furnishings of her bedroom seemed suddenly . . . overdone. Too girlish and feminine. She gazed at her bed’s white headboard, at the wood carved with hearts and scrolling flourishes. Then there was the cutesy vanity table, the chair in front of it slipcovered in a frilly pink fabric. The window curtains were white with pink flowers. It was as if a Laura Ashley catalog had puked all over the room.

  In other words, not suitable for a twenty-one-year-old werewolf looking to score her first date. She might as well drive straight to the animal shelter and adopt an armful of cats.

  Not that cats would have anything to do with her. With the exception of the occasional mild-mannered dog, most animals hated her kind. In that respect, they were much more astute than humans.

  Of course, it hadn’t always been that way for her. As a former latent, she’d gone years without worrying about her effect on animals. As a teen, she even volunteered at a horse farm, mucking out stables and helping little kids feed the ponies.

  She hugged the invitations tighter as memories washed over her. Back then, she worried about what would happen to her if she never made the transition—the all-important first Turn to full wolf. Latency was the only true disease among werewolves. Those who couldn’t Turn had all the instincts and urges of the wolf, but they couldn’t transform from human to animal. Shunned by those who could and shut out from all the rituals and customs of werewolf society, most latents went insane.

  For Haley, working with the horses and the children who visited the farm had been a sort of therapy—a way to distract herself from the problems that came with being a latent. The work had taken her mind off the consuming wish to make her first Turn and leave all those problems behind.

  Who could have predicted that finally getting her heart’s desire would come with a whole new set of problems?

  Murmured voices drifted through the door, pulling her out of her musings. A familiar deep chuckle made her gasp and hurry across the room. Her heart pounded as she threw open the door and stepped into the hallway.

  Two males stopped just outside her door, their expressions startled. They’d shed their typical training gear, swapping sweatshirts and athletic pants for jeans and button-downs. The scent of body wash and aftershave swirled under her nose.

  She injected enthusiasm into her voice. “Hey, guys! Headed out?”

  The males exchanged a look. The taller one—a buff trainee named Eli—glanced toward the end of the hall and the spiral staircase that led to the main floor below. “Uh . . . yeah. Just grabbing a drink with the guys.”

  “We’re full,” the other male said quickly. “The car, I mean. There’s no room for anyone else.”

  Realization crept over her. They thought she was angling to go with them.

  And they definitely didn’t like it.

  What else was new?

  A spark of mischief fired in her brain. Hiding a smile, she said, “That’s okay. I’ll just follow you into town.”

  Eli’s mouth fell open. “Uh . . . “ He shot his friend a worried look. “We d-don’t . . . That is—”

  “Eli,” she said, taking pity on him. “I’m joking.”

  He swallowed. “Oh.”

  “I won’t crash your sacred man time.”

  A frown wrinkled his forehead, as if he couldn’t quite decide if she was making fun of him. His friend cast a longing glance toward the staircase.

  She thrust a couple invitations at them. “Here. You’re both invited.”

  Eli took a paper and scanned it.

  “It’s for my birthday party.”

  He looked up. “This is a week from now. And ten days before Christmas.”

  “Yeah.” As if she didn’t know that already. She’d spend her entire childhood receiving birthday presents wrapped in holiday paper. “But it’s a few days before our break, so I figured everyone will still be in town.” Inspiration struck, and she added, “It can double as a Christmas party.”

  There. They couldn’t say no to that.

  Eli returned his gaze to the paper. Another frown pulled his brows together.

  Her heart sped up. “You don’t have to bring a present. We can do a white elephant gift.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she cringed.

  Why, oh why, did she have to mention gift?

  Eli drew himself up. Then he handed her the paper. “Sorry, Haley. I planned on heading home a little early this year. My parents are expecting me.”

  “Mine too,” his friend said quickly. He held out his invitation. “I won’t be at the Lodge.”

  She stared at the paper in his outstretched hand, the bubbly font she’d used curling across the top of the page.

  Mocking her.

  After a second, he leaned forward, pushing the paper practically under her nose.

  She took it, tucking it under the others in her arms.

  Eli cleared his throat. “Well, we should get going.”

  “Okay,” she said. What else was there to say?

  “See you later, Haley.”

  “Sure. Later.” As they started down the hall, she heard herself say, “Have fun.”

  Eli stopped and turned, his face a little sheepish. “Thanks.” He hesitated, then said, “If I don’t see you again, happy birthday.”

  “Thanks.” She didn’t need to add that he definitely wouldn’t see her again. They both knew he’d make sure of it.

  She stayed put as the males made their way to the staircase. Strike one. Maybe she should turn around and go back to her girly bedroom. Or b
etter yet, go to Remy’s office. He kept a shredder in there. He liked to tease that he used it to destroy love letters from old girlfriends, but everyone knew he shredded outdated tax documents. As the pack’s accountant, he was always handling sensitive financial records.

  Besides, he’d put his womanizing ways behind him when he mated Sophie. The past three years had done nothing to diminish his devotion to her. If anything, their love was stronger than ever.

  Haley’s heart squeezed. What she wouldn’t give for a relationship like that. Or like the one Max and Lizette enjoyed. The pack’s Alpha and his mate were inseparable—mostly because Max couldn’t stand to be parted from his wife. When she entered a room, his whole face lit up.

  Even Dominic Prado, the pack’s stoic, curmudgeonly Beta, had found love.

  But it hadn’t come easy. Haley backed into the doorway and leaned against the jamb, her mind on the three couples who ran the New York Territory. Love hadn’t been a straight arrow for any of them. Hell, Max had banished Lizette from the pack for five years, creating what had seemed like an irreparable rift between them. It had taken a lot of groveling on his part—and Lizette saving his life—to finally bring them together.

  And Sophie had been promised to another before she escaped her arranged marriage and fled to Remy. Her actions had nearly started a territorial war.

  As for Dom and Lily . . . Their story was straight out of a movie. She’d been wrongfully accused of murder, and he’d been sent to track her down—possibly kill her. Instead, they’d ended up falling in love and having a daughter. Now they were expecting another child—something that rarely happened among werewolves.

  Each couple had found their happy ending, but not without a lot of heartache and struggle.

  Haley looked at the invitations. She’d gotten two rejections, and now she was ready to give up and pout in her room?

  “You’re tougher than that, Michaels,” she muttered under her breath. With a nod, she tucked the invitations under her arm and headed for the stairs. If she’d learned anything living in the Lodge over the past three years it was that males tended to congregate around food. If she wanted to hand out invitations, her best bet was the kitchen.

  Besides, her room was somewhat isolated. Max, being the old-fashioned autocrat he was, insisted she needed her “privacy” from the male trainees. She let out an unladylike snort as she descended the stairs and hit the main floor. The Alpha seemed to forget they were all shapeshifters. Transforming from two legs to four meant getting naked on a regular basis. At one time or another, she’d seen every wolf in the territory in a state of undress.

  The Lodge’s main floor was more like the lobby of a fancy hotel, and her footsteps echoed as she made her way down the wide corridor that led to the foyer. There were bound to be a few wolves in one of the lounge areas that flanked the main staircase.

  Sure enough, the unmistakable sounds of a televised sporting event reached her as she neared the foyer. There was a muffled crunch—probably football helmets—followed by blaring whistles and the roar of a crowd.

  Haley shook her head. Werewolf or human, males seemed oddly fixated on watching other males repeatedly smash into each other.

  At the end of the corridor, the foyer opened onto a massive great room. Tucked alongside one wall was a stone fireplace with a thick wooden mantel. Several males lounged in leather chairs arranged around a flat screen television. A trio were squished onto a matching sofa. The coffee table in front of them groaned with plates of nachos, bowls of popcorn, and about two dozen soda cans. Sure enough, football players jogged across the screen.

  She bustled over. “Who’s winning?”

  The males looked at her, their expressions a mix of surprise and . . . yep, that was irritation.

  Anxiety bolted through her as she stopped at the edge of the seating area, the invitations in her arms. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt your game.”

  The male nearest her glanced at his companions before saying, “It’s fine.”

  An awkward silence descended over the group. One of the males on the sofa leaned forward and muted the TV.

  She gnawed the inside of her cheek. Should she just pass out the invitations? Dump them on the coffee table and go?

  The first male who’d spoken cleared his throat. “Did you need something?”

  “No.”

  His eyes dropped to the papers in her arms.

  “I mean yes.” Maybe for the floor to open up and swallow me whole? Ah hell, could this be any more embarrassing? Heat crept into her cheeks, and her heart sped up.

  One of the wolves on the sofa tilted his head.

  Because he can hear it. They all could. Enhanced hearing was one of the first things she’d had to get used to when she finally Turned. As far as superpowers went, it was far less cool than she’d imagined. For a while, it had been like someone turned up the world’s volume full blast on a pair of earbuds and glued them inside her ears. It was hard to sleep when you could hear mice running three floors overhead.

  Or people talking about you when they thought no one was listening.

  She’d since learned to block out the noises she didn’t need to hear.

  The male nearest her shifted in his chair. “No offense, but we’d kind of like to get back to the game.” He gave the invitations a pointed look. “So . . .”

  “Right.” The heat in her cheeks flared. Fumbling, she gathered a section of papers from the top of the stack and handed them to him. “I think that’s enough for everyone. It’s for a party.”

  The male who muted the TV spoke up. “Party?”

  “Yeah.” She offered him a smile. “I’m turning twenty-one.”

  “You’re throwing yourself a birthday party?” He gave the wolf next to him side-eye, and a faint smirk touched his lips.

  It was like someone threw a bucket of ice over her head. Her smile seemed to freeze in place.

  Another male chuckled. “That’s kinda lame, Michaels.”

  Not as lame as your barbed wire bicep tattoo. She pushed the retort back before it could jump from her mouth. Instead, she forced a light laugh. “It says no gifts at the bottom. It’s just a casual get together before break.” She braced herself for a smart-ass reply.

  But he shoved the shoulder of the male next to him and pointed at the TV. “Ooh, did you see that?”

  Every male in the lounge area focused on the set.

  “He got lit up.”

  “My man’s helmet flew off.”

  “Hold up, hold up. They’re showing a replay.” The male who called her lame grabbed the remote and turned up the volume. He nudged his buddy again. “Watch number eighty-two. He comes in like a freaking freight train.”

  On the screen, one player sprinted across the field in slow motion, launched himself in the air, and tackled another player to the ground. The impact sent them both flying. Sure enough, the first player’s helmet flew off. His unprotected head bounced off the turf, sending sweat flying.

  The wolves exploded in a chorus of grunts, cheers, and laughter.

  She looked between the screen and the males sprawled on the furniture. The one nearest her tossed the invitations on the table, then leaned over and high-fived another wolf as the hit replayed in slow motion. The males continued laughing and commiserating over the brutal hit.

  A curious numbness drifted over her. As if on autopilot, she turned and walked away, crossing the foyer without a destination in mind. Behind her, the TV crowd’s roar mingled with the sound of the males’ laughter.

  It wasn’t for her, but it didn’t matter. Her cheeks burned, and her chest grew tight. What a dumb idea, planning a party for herself. How desperate could she get?

  She increased her pace, approaching a run as the murmur of voices faded and the only sounds in her ears were her heart beats and gasping breaths. She couldn’t go back the way she came. That would take her past the lounge area again. Fortunately, there was another staircase ahead—an old servants’ stair—that led back
upstairs.

  Back to the safety of her stupid, girly bedroom with its stupid decorations and stupid furniture.

  She was so focused on getting to the stairs she almost collided with the tiny red blur that shot around a corner.

  “Whoa!” Haley put up her hands.

  The blur stopped, revealing a redheaded toddler wearing black high-top sneakers, a pink tutu, and a T-shirt that said “boss lady.”

  Haley’s heart turned over. She sank into a crouch, putting her head on the child’s level. “Hey, Posey. Where’s your mommy and daddy?” It was a question just about everyone in the Lodge had asked at one point or another. Lily and Dom were excellent parents, but Posey was a handful and a half. She kept all the wolves in the Lodge on their toes.

  Not that anyone minded. Children were such a rarity for their species, the child could have gotten away with murder.

  She knew it, too.

  The little girl’s face lit up. “Mama.”

  “That’s right,” Haley said. Unable to help herself, she reached out and stroked a bright red curl nestled against a chubby cheek. “Where’s mama?”

  Before she even finished her sentence, a frazzled-looking Remy rushed around the corner. He stopped and clutched at his chest. “Oh good. You’ve got her.”

  Posey whirled. “Unka Emmy!” She raced to the big male and threw her arms around his legs.

  He swayed but kept his balance, putting a large palm over the springy red curls. “Listen, pipsqueak. I thought we said no more running off?”

  Still clutching his legs, the little girl leaned back and yelled, “Wace!”

  “Nooo.” Remy shook his head. “No racing. Uncle Remy isn’t fast enough to keep up with you.”

 

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