by M H Soars
“Of course not. Do you know who attacked the girl?” Seth asks.
I pause and study the guy, knowing I have to be careful. The pack has a strict rule that attempting to change a human into a wolf must be approved by the alpha first. If one of our own were to go rogue and do it, the punishment would be severe. I most definitely don’t want to disclose to Seth that Red was infected by a rogue from another pack. We’re risking a lot by keeping her here since she technically belongs to the Shadow Creek wolves. If that information leaks, it will lead to unrest and distrust in my father’s leadership. He might even be forced to get rid of Red, send her to those savages up north. I can’t allow that to happen. She’s too important to us.
Like my mother, I have the sight. For the last couple of weeks, I’ve been plagued by visions of Red. Only, I hadn’t known it was her until I saw her for the first time in person, half dead in Sam’s arms. Now, I have to figure out how she’ll impact our lives.
“No,” I say. “We found her in Irving Forest by a creek. We couldn’t pick up her attacker’s scent.”
Seth flattens his lips. “It could have been a loner. You know they tend to go crazy without a pack.”
“Yes, it’s possible.”
A lone wolf would be the most logical explanation, but I can’t help the sense of apprehension that drips down my spine. Becoming a loner could very well be in my destiny. If Tristan becomes the new alpha, Sam and I will have to leave the pack forever. It’s highly unlikely that any other pack will accept us unless we challenge their alpha and win.
“The order right now is to keep this quiet until my father makes the announcement himself. Is that clear, Seth?”
He turns to me, a look of disdain in his eyes. “Crystal clear, Beta.”
He stalks off, and I wait until he’s no longer in sight. Seth will be a problem, and I don’t need any special gift to see that. A light tingle concentrates at the base of my spine. That’s the signal I get when I’m about to be hit by another vision. I take the track toward my studio, a chalet buried deep in the woods right on the outskirts of the compound’s property. It’s on top of a hill, and it provides breathtaking views of the forest. From its vantage point, I can also see the town.
As soon I enter my sanctuary, I feel the itch, the urge to paint something. It isn’t a regular bout of inspiration like normal artists have. It feels more like a compulsion. With a jerky movement, I pull my shirt off, throwing it in a corner in the room, then grab a massive white canvas, setting it on the easel.
Then I allow the craze to take over, losing myself to the gift until the message is imprinted in some type of art. It’s usually abstract paintings for me.
I’m conscious of my fingers dipping into the paint containers, the feel of them gliding over the canvas. But I don’t know what I’m painting or how long it will take for me to finish. All I know is I won’t be able to stop until it’s done.
Hours must have passed before I collapse on the floor in exhaustion. My arms ache, and I can’t feel my fingers any longer. I’m covered in paint from head to toe, but I don’t care about any of that. My eyelids are too heavy, and fighting sleep is pointless. My last thought before I shut my eyes is of Red and how I crave her like I’ve never craved anything else in my entire life.
I curse at whoever is banging at my door. It feels as if I just shut my eyes. It’s a Herculean effort to peel my eyelids open. My brain is foggy as hell. When I look out the window, I discover I didn’t just fall asleep. The sky is tinted bloody orange. It’s near sunset already. I slept the entire day away. Damn it.
My back muscles protest when I roll over on the floor. The paint covering my body is dry, and it’s making me itch like crazy.
“For fuck’s sake, Dante. Open up. I know you’re in there,” Sam yells from outside.
With a groan, I spring to my feet and rub my face, hoping the movement will kickstart my brain. Sam knocks on the door again, much louder this time. If I don’t answer him, he’ll knock it down.
“I’m coming!”
I barely have the door open before Sam pushes me out of the way, striding in followed by Tristan.
“What the hell, Dante? Now is not the time to play the hermit artist. We have a sticky situation on our hands, and we need to—”
“What the hell is that?” Tristan cuts Sam off, staring dazedly at the painting I just finished.
I turn without knowing what to expect, since I passed out before I could really examine what I did. My jaw drops as I stare at my newest artwork—Red sitting in a throne-like chair, surrounded by three white wolves.
‘Dante?” Sam probes again.
Swallowing hard, it takes me a moment to reply. “I have no fucking idea.”
Chapter 8
Red
I’m so angry at myself, I could scream in frustration. I was so close to running away from this madness, but I had to go and get all hot and bothered by Samuel Wolfe. It doesn’t escape my notice that I’m focusing way too much on the rock star’s sexy good looks and how he managed to coax me to come back, rather than on the fact he turned into a wolf. A wolf!
Crimson Hollow was a quirk town filled with mysticism and legends, but I had no idea they were true. Did Grandma know? I need to go home and tell her everything, but I can’t until Anthony Wolfe, Samuel’s father—the alpha—authorizes it. Such bullshit.
After Samuel did his little demonstration, he brought me back to the clinic and left. I was too stunned to fight him. That’s what I get for letting my hormones take control of my brain.
I’m going out of my mind when he finally returns by sundown to escort me to a different place. I try to get more information from him, but he isn’t keen to talk now. Fucker.
We don’t venture outside. Instead, he takes me to a different section of the building. The décor changes from simple and clean to lavishly decorated rooms. The furniture is all classic dark wood, and the furnishings and rugs are in deep jewel colors. The paintings on the walls are modern, though, very abstract and colorful. When I examine them closely, it seems they were painted by the same artist.
“What’s this place?” I ask as I take everything in, trying to absorb as much as I can of my new surroundings.
“This is the alpha’s manor.”
“And the place I was before?”
“The clinic. It’s connected to the main house, so Mom can get to it quickly.”
“Why is that? Is she the resident doctor?”
Samuel chuckles. “Something like that.”
“I guess it makes sense that she’s a vet and not a human doctor.”
Samuel doesn’t reply. He seems tenser than before. I wonder what the heck happened between my failed escape attempt and now. He stops in front of a door down the hallway and knocks. A rough voice tells us to come in. It gives me the chills. Mr. Asshole is on the other side.
Samuel pushes the door open, and we enter an office furnished with sturdy dark wood furniture. The smell of cigar and whiskey reaches my nose. I would have wrinkled it in disgust if Tristan’s scent wasn’t in the mix as well. A tendril of desire curls around my spine, and I have to fight the feeling with all my strength. It’s bad enough to lust after one brother, but the tall and imposing man standing behind the desk glaring in my direction makes everything so damn complicated.
Tristan and Samuel share the same dark brown hair, but whereas Samuel’s style is edgy, Mr. Asshole sports a boring and predictable haircut. Since I’m already ogling the man, I might as well give him an elevator glance when he walks around the desk. He’s in business casual clothes—dark slacks paired with a button-down shirt.
His stare blazes through me, piercing me in a way that leaves me breathless. I gasp when I feel a shift in the air surrounding us. I’m not going crazy—something strange is going on here. First my reaction to Samuel, and now this. Is it a wolf thing?
“You tried to escape. That was foolish,” Mr. Asshole finally says.
His comment breaks whatever spell I’m unde
r. I cross my arms, bringing forth the anger from before.
“I’d be foolish if I didn’t try.”
“Well, I hope you got that notion out of your head because you’re not going anywhere any time soon.”
“What?” My voice rises shrilly.
I turn to Samuel, feeling betrayed. True, he didn’t say I could go home, but he never said I’d be a prisoner either.
“I’m sorry, Red. You’re a new wolf. You can’t go back to your normal life. At least not until you learn how to master your new reality.”
“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to stay here for an undetermined period. I have a life, and my grandmother is sick. Who is going to take care of her?”
“Your grandmother will be fine,” a newcomer says from behind me.
I glance over my shoulder, knowing very well Dante is the one who spoke. As if by magic, my rage ebbs away, just like it did when I was in wolf form and he calmed me down. It’s like he’s the wolf whisperer or something.
I hadn’t had the chance to really look at him the last time we were in the same room, but I can’t keep my eyes off him now. He’s so darn cute with his dark blond hair sticking out in all directions. Now I know why it’s hard for me to feel animosity toward the guy. He oozes wholesomeness, a stark contrast to his brothers. Samuel has that mischievous glint in his eyes, and Mr. Asshole is… well, he’s an asshole.
“You can’t possibly know that. Are you a psychic, too?”
Dante raises both eyebrows, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red. He glances away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Something like that.”
I was not expecting that answer. “Do you all have special gifts besides turning into wolves?” I eye the others.
“No. Dante is the only one with the extra gift.” Mr. Asshole taps his knuckles on the desk once before folding his arms.
“Hold on. I think my gift in bed can be considered an extra. It’s definitely a gift to the ladies.” Samuel winks at me.
Heat rushes to my cheeks, but I roll my eyes, trying to downplay my reaction. I will not picture myself in bed with the rocker. Ah, fuck. Too late. I already had, my body reacting accordingly. My nipples are now hard, and there’s a light throbbing between my legs. Never in my life had I gotten turned on by a man like that so fast. And now I’m having all sorts of inappropriate feelings for three strangers, one of whom I dislike immensely. I pinch the bridge of my nose, wanting this nightmare to be over already. I want to go home where life is normal, where I don’t get hot and bothered by a simple glance from a hot dude.
A noise that sounds a lot like a growl comes from Tristan’s direction. Not wanting to miss the opportunity to antagonize the man, I turn to him with an eyebrow raised. “What’s the matter with you? Got a stick up your butt?”
“He sure does.” Samuel laughs.
“As I was saying,” Dante continues. “Your grandma is fine, and she knows where you are.”
“Does she know what happened to me, too?” I ask, afraid to know the answer.
Dante stares at me for a couple of beats. I feel the pull, a force that reels me in like a fish caught by the hook. His deep emerald-green eyes seem to hypnotize me. Crap. What if he is hypnotizing me? I take a couple of steps back until I hit a bookshelf.
He frowns. “What’s the matter?”
“Stop looking at me like that.” I hug myself like that action can protect me from a wolf spell, if that’s even a thing.
Samuel hits his brother on the shoulder. “Yeah, Dante. Quit being a creep.”
“Bite me,” he snarls back.
“Enough, you two.” Mr. Asshole steps in between them, then turns his attention to me. “I don’t know if your grandmother knows, but it doesn’t matter. You can’t leave the compound until the al—”
“Until your damn father says so,” I say through clenched teeth. “Yeah, Samuel already gave me that spiel. I don’t care about your father. I’m an adult, and this is a free country. You can’t keep me here against my will.”
Tristan takes a couple of steps forward, stopping only when he’s invading my personal space. I swallow hard as my body becomes tense, but I won’t cower in front of this infuriating man.
“I can and will. Don’t cross me, Amelia.”
Very few people call me by my given name. I hate admitting it, but hearing Mr. Asshole say it gives me goose bumps. No, no, no. You don’t like him, remember?
“Or what?” I ask, lifting my chin in defiance.
He curls his lips, revealing sharp canines that are most definitely not human. His irises churn, turning molten gold instead of gray. My gums ache as I start to shake a little.
Dante and Samuel pull Tristan away, and I can finally breathe out. What the hell was that? I touch my teeth, relieved they are still human. I’m almost certain I was beginning to shift. I still remember how much it hurt the first time. No way do I want to go through that again.
“If speaking with your father is so important, why haven’t you brought me to meet him yet?” I ask.
“He’s out of town,” Samuel answers. “But we can make a quick run by your house to get your stuff.”
Mr. Asshole whips his face toward his brother, his expression twisted into a scowl.
“When you say ‘we,’ do you mean you and your brothers or you and me?” I ask before Tristan can put the kibosh on Samuel’s idea.
A wicked smile blossoms on Samuel’s lips, his eyes twinkling with mischief. It gives me shivers. “You and me,” he replies in a voice that’s equal measures whiskey and honey, and totally meant to seduce.
“What? That’s out of the quest—” Mr. Asshole begins to say, but Dante interrupts.
“It will be fine, Tristan. I’ll join as well. Or do you have so little faith in us that you don’t think we can handle a brand-new pup?”
“Hey! I’m not a pup. I’m a woman!”
Tristan ignores my outburst, addressing Dante as if I’m not even there. “Fine. But I’m coming as well.”
Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. My gums begin to ache again. This time, I taste blood on my tongue. A foreign sound emanates from my throat as I take a step forward. Something savage woke up inside me, and I’m on the verge of unleashing it.
The brothers fall silent, staring at me like they’re seeing a ghost.
“What the hell?” Samuel says, his eyebrows almost reaching his hairline.
“What?” I ask, my voice a little garbled and rough.
“She can do a partial shift already? Impossible,” Mr. Asshole mumbles.
I growl. They’d better stop with this bullshit of talking about me as if I’m not in the room, or I’m going to lose it. Maybe I already am losing it.
Dante offers me his phone. “Look at the camera.”
Reluctantly, I do as he asks. In the screen, the most atrocious sight ever greets me. My face had morphed into something out of nightmares. Jaw elongated, eyes glowing yellow, and canines the size of my pinkie. I do the only thing any sane person in my place would. I leap back, drop the phone, and scream at the top of my lungs.
Chapter 9
Tristan
“What’s going on here?” Mom asks from the door.
I’m not even surprised. She always knows when we’re doing something she doesn’t approve of. I’m twenty-five, and I still have to put up with being scolded like a child.
She glances over my shoulder, and her glare morphs into something else when she sees Amelia’s face. Her jaw drops. “Blessed Mother, how did that happen?”
“Red got mad at Tristan and, well, that’s the result,” Sam replies.
“Stop staring at me like I’m a freak!” Amelia turns her back to us, curling her shoulders forward and hugging her middle.
Guilt twists my guts. It’s the only reason I don’t offer a retort to my brother’s comment.
“You have to relax,” Dante suggests.
The woman goes to my desk and sweeps her arm over it, throwing everything to the floor.
“Don’t tell me to relax!”
I glance at my brothers. In that action, a silent communication is exchanged between us. I make a motion toward Amelia, ready to restrain her, but Mom is faster. Before we can do anything, she sticks a syringe in the woman’s neck. Amelia has no chance—her body turns limp in seconds. Mom catches her without effort. Slowly, the pretty blonde’s features return to normal.
“What did you do?” Sam takes a step forward, his body tense as if he’s ready to pry Amelia’s limp form from our mother’s arms.
“I gave her a special sedative. You should know better than to antagonize her.” Mom doesn’t look in my direction, but I know that comment was for me.
Dante gets to Amelia first, and Mom surrenders the woman to him without a fight. She’s never made it a secret that Dante is the only one she trusts completely. He’s always been her favorite, maybe because they possess the same gift. Their special connection used to bother me greatly when I was younger, but I’ve learned to accept it over the years.
Dante makes a motion to exit my office, but Mom raises her hand, stopping him.
“Just one second. I would like to know exactly what happened while I was busy tending to Terrence.”
Clenching my jaw, I glance at my brothers. When neither offer Mom anything, I answer, “The girl managed to escape, but Sam was able to catch her before she could jump the fence. He brought her back to the clinic, then he came looking for me.”
“Go on,” Mom says.
Crossing my arms, I stare pointedly at Dante.
“I had an episode,” he says.
“A vision?” Mom takes an eager step toward him.
“Yes, but I don’t know what it means.” He rubs his face as his gaze turn inward. “The painting is in my studio.”
Mom nods, but instead of going out the door to see Dante’s new artwork, she leans against my desk and folds her arms.
