by Kari Gregg
Scowling, Jamie grudgingly reached for the bowl of meat. He groaned his delight as he bit into the food, his mouth flooding with his greed at the gamey flavor. Jamie was long accustomed to hunger. He hadn’t lied to Da. He and Ian had nearly starved their first winter together and the experience had taught Jamie no matter his suffering to simply endure. When his snares remained empty, when fish abandoned the creek for deeper waters at the height of summer, and the distraction of sad memories made hunting squirrel and rabbit a fruitless chore, Goddess knew he’d survived worse. Jamie wasn’t afraid of a hollow belly or a few lean days. The gratitude of his wolf at the provided meal frightened Jamie more, but Kenneth obviously wouldn’t fulfill this farce of a mating until he ate. Jamie sucked down the venison as fast as dignity allowed, shoving tender morsels past his lips with fingers still grubby from his wild run through the territory.
If Jamie’s lack of manners bothered Kenneth, Jamie noticed no sign of it. Instead, the future alpha rooted inside a chest of drawers for a strop and carefully, slowly, sharpened Jamie’s razor while Jamie consumed his dinner, the meter of the blade on the strop in the subsequent quiet soothing to Jamie.
He hated that too.
He didn’t want to be comforted. Or fed. The idea of climbing into the shower stall Kenneth had built to scrub away the day’s dirt birthed a scream of angry frustration inside Jamie that stuck in his chest. The rejoicing of his inner wolf at the care and kindness of a desired mate infuriated Jamie all the more. When he couldn’t stand his growing rage a moment longer, he pushed the bowl away before he’d finished half of the offering. He twisted on the bed, flipping to hands and knees. He shoved his bare ass up. “Fuck me already.”
The cadence of the razor sliding along the strop didn’t waver. “I’ve crossed the country several times over and wandered north of our borders as well as south. I’ve seen a lot, treated with more packs than many alphas greet in a lifetime,” Kenneth said into the strained silence that followed Jamie’s outburst, Kenneth’s voice dripping with pride. “So, when I say you are far and wide the most difficult shifter existing on the entire continent, you may be certain my judgment is just and true.”
Shooting a glare over his shoulder, Jamie harrumphed. “I ripened for you and Da assures me his death is near.” He wriggled his ass at Kenneth. “You mean to be the next alpha, don’t you?”
The slide of the razor slowed. Kenneth arched an eyebrow. “Memory of this will embarrass you later.”
Probably. Today, though, Jamie’s resentment rode him too hard to care. “What? You need me clean and pretty?” He snorted, flopping around on the bed to face Kenneth. “Fine.” He stretched out his hand, palm up, for the freshly sharpened razor. “Point me to the creek.”
One corner of Kenneth’s mouth curved. Passing the razor and other toiletries he’d fetched for Jamie, Kenneth tipped his jaw to a darkened doorway on the other side of the room. “If you’re ready, the shower is through there.”
Then he had the gall to laugh when Jamie fisted the towel and snatched up his other things to stomp outside to find the damned creek himself.
Chapter Six
THE LUKEWARM WATER burbling at a trickle nearby failed to cool Jamie’s temper, but when Lisa emerged from the trees and plopped onto the bank, Jamie was nonetheless too tired to snarl much. What for? Once he and Kenneth mated, Jamie would return to Burnt Fork, to his pack. Driving her away was pointless, but ignoring her and everyone else had become mindless habit the past couple years particularly. Easy for Jamie. Cupping his hands to sluice water from the crown of his head down his chest, Jamie let the soap suds sting his eyes so he didn’t have to look at her.
As if his sister could be wiped from his memory.
Lisa had grown. A stingy pair of full moons from her thirteenth birthday when Jamie and Ian had mated, Jamie’s sister had still been all bones and angles then, the woman she would one day be yet hidden within her adolescent body like a bulb awaiting Spring to flower. Jamie didn’t think she’d gained a solitary inch in height since they’d shared the loft in Da’s den, but she’d rounded and filled out, including her belly heavily swollen with—unless Jamie had miscounted—his sister’s fourth child. Jamie took after Da: tall, tan, broad shoulders and a strong back for work, dark hair and eyes. The men of his bloodline tended to look alike, most of the women too, but not Lisa. She’d resembled Momma with her blonde hair, fair skin, and seer blue eyes. The distinction had only intensified after they’d reached adulthood. Believing they were kin, forget close kin, would’ve perplexed most.
Especially Jamie.
They couldn’t have been more different, not only in their appearance but in nature. Jamie had been a studious boy, always at Da to borrow books and following the old pack trainer around Burnt Fork with question after question until Mack ended his pestering with a gentle nudge toward home. Lisa had given up reading as soon as the basic education Momma had drilled into their heads was done and eschewed shifter craft with Mack too, opting instead to apprentice in Momma’s workshop. If she hadn’t produced amazing pieces that rivaled Momma’s pottery almost right off, Jamie believed his parents would’ve made her finish pack training at least, but seers were notoriously difficult to raise. They’d let her have her way.
He couldn’t remember why, but they’d never been close as kids. That lack should’ve struck him as odd long before today, but standing naked in that trickle of a creek wearing nothing except bubbles, the strangeness of their distant relationship caught him by surprise. He jolted, spine shooting straight as he pivoted to face Lisa. His sister had woven together a loose circle of daisies while Jamie had washed and with a jaunty smirk, she plopped it atop her head. “Done with your snit yet, princess?”
It was almost like being a kid again.
“Depends.” Jamie bent to rescue the crude square of homemade soap from a crack between two rocks where he’d anchored it. “Got any new prophecies to destroy my life with?”
Lisa snorted. “Actually, I do.”
Jamie’s muscles bunched taut, but he splashed to the edge of the creek near his sister as though his heart didn’t thunder at the notion of another glimpse of his future. “That right?” Dropping the soap into the grass next to the razor he’d used before his bath, he snagged his towel from the branch upon which he’d hung it at the edge of the creek. “Figures.”
“Foretelling isn’t limited to a pack member’s infancy. The next generation’s seer reveals what she knows when she takes over the role inside a pack too.” She shrugged. “Not my fault you weren’t in Burnt Fork when I took over as seer after Momma passed, nor am I to blame for your prissy refusal to talk to any pack adult except Devon.” She glared. “Your prophecy from your new seer is overdue.” Despite the awkward girth of her stomach, Lisa leaned forward and grabbed Jamie’s wrist to halt his industrious scrubbing to dry off. “You’ve also lived enough to understand shooting the messenger doesn’t change what will be.”
“Whatever you’ve seen, whatever you think you know about what’s to come for me, I don’t care.” Jamie jerked his arm from her grasp and gave his chest one last swipe with the towel. “When has prophecy ever helped me?”
“You still don’t get how lucky you are.” Lisa scowled.
“Lucky? Shunned by my pack for loving the mate the Goddess gave me, the same mate I lost to the claws of a mountain lion…” Jamie laughed, a harsh and bitter sound.
“Momma’s vision for you allowed Ian to live the time he had to the fullest and warned you to brace for his loss. The prophecy gave you reason to go on once Ian died, hope so you wouldn’t give up and die alongside him. That prophecy aided you plenty, you and Ian both,” Lisa said, voice hard and urgent. “What was foretold continues to be a blessing to you to this day. Do you realize how rare and precious it is to be given the opportunity to love twice?” She pushed away, anger and disgust etched across her pinched features. “Instead of appreciating that bountiful blessing, you punished whoever failed to tickle your ears with wha
t you wanted to hear and you rejected the gift of another mate the Goddess sent to comfort you in your grief.” She sliced a sharp hand through the air. “You’re spoiled and selfish. Always have been.”
Jamie grimaced. “Don’t bottle up your feelings because you haven’t spoken to me in over a decade, Lisa. Open up. Tell me what you really think.”
“You’d be a lot better off if the pack stopped apologizing for what they can’t change and slapped you upside the head when you’ve earned it.” She jabbed a finger at him. “Which you have.”
Whatever. His patience with his sister at an end, Jamie bent to tug on his shorts. “You’re mad because I couldn’t care less about your prophecy. Too bad.”
Lisa’s brow furrowed. She pursed her lips into a disapproving frown. “You don’t deserve the warning the Goddess wants to give you.”
Jamie snorted. “The Goddess is as cruel a bitch as fate is.”
Lisa gasped, her jaw dropping. “Blasphemy,” she hissed.
“The Goddess has given me more reason than most to be pragmatic about destiny.” Reaching for his shirt, Jamie chuckled. “Tell me. How often does the Goddess give you a glimpse of a future that’s hopeful and positive? Or information that’s genuinely practical?”
His sister glared at him. “Warning you to brace for Ian’s death was practical.”
“Winning lottery numbers would be nice too, though.” Jamie waggled his eyebrows at her. “Just saying.”
“As if anyone in Burnt Fork cares about human money.” Spine shooting straight, she harrumphed. “You don’t deserve to know and prepare yourself for the troubles life has in store for you.”
Retrieving his towel again, Jamie rubbed his wet hair with a sigh. “Probably not,” he agreed. “But if it’s all the same with you, I’ll pass on another prophecy, thanks. I was done with ‘helpful’ warnings from the Goddess at sixteen, when one of her prophecies nearly cost me a decade of love and happiness with my mate.”
“The Goddess had nothing to do with the mistakes the pack made with you and Ian. Da and our elders misunderstood and mishandled what the Goddess foretold, but that is no fault of Hers.” With a hand at her bulging stomach, Lisa pushed to her feet. She snatched Jamie’s cake of soap from the grass. She tossed it to him.
Dropping the towel, Jamie caught it.
She passed his razor with more care. “I know you’re bitter. Still hurt and angry at how we, as a pack, did not support you through Ian’s loss and all the many seasons you were blessed to have him before Ian died. We failed you and more importantly, we failed him. You’re right to hold all of us accountable for that. We should feel the full measure of regret and experience the consequences for our actions, for only when we as a pack accept our collective wrong can we change and ensure those mistakes aren’t repeated.” Lisa’s gaze filled with the same remorse that tore at Jamie’s guts when he spied it in the gazes of the other pack members. “You need to stop blaming the Goddess for what we did. She didn’t betray you. I can’t fault you for distrusting us. I might not trust us either if I were you, but you need to trust Her. You need to hear what She has to say to you.”
“Her last prophecy ripped my world apart.” Shoving the wet soap into a pocket, Jamie stooped to snatch the towel again to wrap his razor in it. Despite the sense in what his sister said, his stomach roiled with anxiety and trepidation. “I don’t want another warning. I’d rather not know. Truly.”
Lisa bit her bottom lip. “It’s important, Jay.”
Jamie winced at the old childhood nickname. “Thought you said I didn’t deserve to know what’s been foretold.”
“None of us deserve the love and compassion of the Goddess.” She waved a dismissive hand. “What the Goddess revealed to me about your future wasn’t important before. I respected your wishes, stayed away, but you’re mating Kenneth now.”
Alarm spiked through him. “The prophecy is about Kenneth?”
“It’s not like that. Not like with Ian.” Lisa raised her hand, palm up. “I didn’t see Kenneth’s death.”
Jarring and discordant, relief nevertheless flooded him. His taut shoulders unbunched. “Then what’s the urgent urgency?”
“Because what I saw happens while you’re with Kenneth. I didn’t see him in the glimpse the Goddess gave me, but I sensed him. If not Kenneth, your feelings for him at least.” She let her arm drop. “You will love again, as wholly and completely as you loved Ian. That much of what I sensed is positive and should be some comfort to you.”
Jamie wrinkled his nose. “Not really.” Momma had predicted a second mate for him at Jamie’s birth, hadn’t she? A second fated mate, no less. Of course, Jamie would love Kenneth…eventually. He shrugged a diffident shoulder “We’re together, but we’re a long way from loving each other. I have time.”
“No, you were still young in the vision the Goddess revealed to me.” Her forehead furrowed as she studied him. “Like you look today actually.” She angled her head while she studied him, head to toe. “Your hair might’ve been longer, but otherwise, yeah, what I saw matches who you are today.” She sighed. “It could happen anytime.”
Fear curdled his blood. “Or years from now. Like with Ian.”
“Momma never saw Ian. Remember? She didn’t even see you, which is why the timing of her prophecy was muddy. She only saw Kenneth, sensed his devotion to you.” She shook her head. “Pack seers assess clues to predict a general timeframe for our prophecies whenever we can, but that simply wasn’t possible with your birth prophecy. Momma saw a stranger who loved you, a shifter she didn’t meet and didn’t come until after both she and Ian had died. She had nothing on which to base a time estimate.”
When Jamie pivoted to trudge back to Kenneth’s den, Lisa fell into step beside him. “You said I loved him? In your vision.”
“Definitely.”
“I don’t love him, though. I’m not even sure I like him. I’m ripening for him. Any fool with a nose can scent that, but mating doesn’t happen instantly even under ideal circumstances, which these are not.” Jamie twisted the towel, razor rolled inside, in his hands. “Whatever you saw, you can happily keep to yourself.”
Lisa grabbed his bicep to halt him. “You need to stay out of the mountain pass to Bitter Creek.”
“You aren’t listening to me.” Jamie’s stomach flipped. “Not that you ever did.”
“I realize that spot is important to you because of Ian.” Lisa frowned. “But it’s dangerous.”
“The mountains always have been.” He smothered a laugh. “Ian and I hid out in the rocks together many seasons before we mated. No one knows the high places better than I do, the snakes that make a home there, the cats who hunt, the rock slides and shadowy crevices that can turn an ankle or snap a bone.” He jerked free of Lisa’s grip. “I’ll be fine.”
“No. You won’t be.”
Fear skittered through him. Grief. Was he to die in the mountains like Ian had, laying in a sea of red splattered across stony granite while he bled out his last? His mate had been too weak to talk by the time Jamie had reached him, but Jamie had recognized the agony in his beloved’s stare, sensed Ian’s terror in his every shallowing and gasping breath. Ian’s death hadn’t come quickly or easily. How many hours had he lain in the pass after the cat’s attack, body shredded by claws and punctured by sharp cutting teeth, too injured to shift and too far away for anyone to hear his cries? Jamie had been with Ian at the end, but only for his mate’s final moments. Who knew how much he’d suffered before the horrific attack had been discovered.
Jamie wasn’t afraid to die. Maybe he wasn’t as avid a believer in the Goddess and what his sister and the rest of the pack anticipated once this life was over, but death still didn’t scare him. Whatever came next, even if it was nothingness, the simple extinguishing of life to black emptiness, Jamie was nonetheless ready. He’d lived the best he could in the time he’d had and was comforted by the legacy he’d leave behind in pack children he’d helped raise to adulthood. The cere
monial knives he’d lovingly carved from bone would outlast him too, treasured by the packs that had acquired them…and perhaps appreciated by some humans as well. Jamie was no alpha nor elder whose name would be recorded in pack history as a memorial to his great deeds or exemplary wisdom. Despite his skill in carving bone, he was no grand artist either, but he liked to believe he would someday leave this world richer than it’d been when he’d entered it. There was satisfaction in that, a certain continuity that settled something deep in Jamie’s soul. Whatever happened after, he’d also rejoin Ian when this life of ugliness and pain was done.
No, death didn’t faze Jamie.
The process of dying, though, was a different matter altogether. Like everyone else, he hoped to pass one day many, many seasons from today of old age and in his own warm bed, surrounded by the ones who loved him, but realistically, Jamie understood that scenario was the outlier, not the norm. Most died like his Da, slowly eaten away by debilitating disease or brutally, as Ian had. That scared the shit out of Jamie. At least illness allowed people to come to terms with their end and let them say their painful goodbyes.
He didn’t want to die like Ian did, in agony, fearing the cat that had inflicted the lethal wounds would return to finish and feast, but he didn’t waver in his plodding march back to Kenneth’s den either. He spared a glance at his sister, who studied him with a guarded frown. “You’ve seen my death then.” He gulped. “I suppose there’s a tortured harmony in that, to die as Ian did and where he did.”
“I’ve only seen enough to understand mountain cats aren’t finished with you yet.” Lisa shook her head, blonde hair trailing over one thin shoulder. The circle of daisies on her head slid off kilter. “I don’t know if you win the encounter…or if the cat does. I just know you’ll fight.”
“I’m no great hunter or warrior.” Jamie huffed out a laugh. “Of the pair of us, Ian was always better at physical confrontations than me and look how his prowess aided him against predators.”
