Destiny: A Fantasy Collection

by Rachelle Mills

  I get up. My tongue feels thick and dry. I can’t swallow my own saliva.

  Opening the tap up, I put some water in my hand and drink from it. As I wipe my chin, I look into the mirror. My breath stops.

  What has he done? I have hickeys all over my body, along with teeth lines that have slid down my skin. I turn my body. At least he left my backside alone. My inner thighs, lower abdomen, and chest are littered with them. I check my neck; there are no claim marks. What did his mother mean his mark would stay? Did I imagine that?

  I put on some very comfortable clothes; my arm still doesn’t want to work properly. The white bulky bandage he put on it is held securely with tape.

  On the table, there is a water bottle, a small medication bottle with a few pills in it, and a note.

  We need to talk, just not yet.

  That’s all it says, nothing else.

  He doesn’t come back the next night or the next. He doesn’t call me; he doesn’t check up on me. When I try to call him, it goes to voice mail, so I stop trying to call.

  There’s nothing else from him anymore, no more iced pain, or raging grief, nothing. He’s turned off the show.

  When I walk into the clinic on Thursday, only my females are waiting for me. No other patients are there.

  “Aurora, where’s Dr. Valentine?” I finally manage to ask around lunchtime.

  “He took the next two days off. Lots for him to do and figure out, he told me.” I nod as if I understand.

  “Rya, I’m supposed to tell you that he’s hosting a pack barbecue, and he expects everyone to attend. It’s Saturday at three.” I just walk away, tending to the various pregnant females.

  Friday has me finishing the rest of my paperwork as the last patient leaves. I didn’t see Kimberly this week. I will have to see what’s going on and why she didn’t come to a scheduled appointment.

  A groan hits my ears; it’s deep and full of pain. His cries stand the fur on end. He’s slowly waking up for very short periods of time before they drug him back into a sleep of healing.

  This is an example of why doctors are worth their weight in gold. What’s supposed to have died, they are able to keep alive.” Clayton’s smell to me is of pain and hurt. Instinct wants to drive me to his room, but my mind keeps me away. He never came and helped me long ago.

  Aurora’s coming out of his room, carrying some vile-looking blood-soaked dressings. I see him then. His hands are restrained by thick leather attached at his wrists. He’s on his stomach, sweat making his hair stick to his head. His lips are trembling, back exposed. He has no back; it just looks like ground-up meat. His eyes find mine, and I stop for a moment before he picks his head up and looks away from me. I can see his shoulders shake as if he’s crying.

  Pain like this has no peak. It doesn’t stop in an hour; it holds your body hostage until you just wish for your death.

  All this pain is because he believed in love.

  “Why are his hands restrained?” I ask Aurora once she comes back.

  “It’s to stop him from tearing his own throat out. He didn’t like that he woke up.” My stomach drops. He thought that he probably would die out on that post. He never expected to live.

  She closes the door behind her as she walks into the room. I can hear her low, soothing voice humming to him.

  Friday night, he doesn’t call or come over. All his hickeys have disappeared; it’s as if he never marked me with his mouth. His scent is still inside my skin slightly, lingering, holding on in the crevices that can’t be seen with the naked eye.

  I go around back. There are giant bonfires burning everywhere, a giant pig roasting in the pit, along with tables spread out with food, lots and lots of food on display.

  I brought two pies—lemon meringue. I was feeling slightly sour with the way he’s just ignoring me, but that’s my own fault, no one to blame but me. I just couldn’t help but bring lemon.

  I find him with my gaze. He’s talking to several wolves. This looks the way an Alpha looks, the way he’s holding himself as if he has the biggest balls in the woods. A smile touches his lips, and my heart picks up a beat.

  His mother is calling me over with a wave of her hand and a friendly smile, taking me in the opposite direction of Dallas. I give her a small wave with my now-healed arm. I’m looking for my family, but I don’t see them yet.

  Luna Grace is standing at the picnic table that Cash and Kennedy are sitting at. She was released two days ago into Cash’s care. Her throat’s healing well, no more white bandages on them. I can’t tell if his claim mark is there or not.

  The scarring is extremely extensive.

  She doesn’t look the same, skinny, sunken in cheeks, hair falling limply to the side of her face. No makeup, it’s as if she just doesn’t care what she looks like. If he’s put a claim mark on her, she should be going into her heat next month. It’s the weirdest thing to think about.

  Could I really deliver her pup? The thought shakes my core values slightly.

  She looks at me, and our eyes lock with each other before she looks away at the lake…anything but me, anything but Cash.

  “Hello.” I bow slightly to the Luna, giving my nice smile to the both of them that are sitting down at the table. No need to be rude.

  “How are you feeling, Rya? I would have come to visit, but my son gave strict orders not to disturb you.” She’s looking at Dallas as he weaves through the crowd, touching members of the pack.

  “Look at him. He’s just coming into himself.” The pride she has for him is evident in her voice.

  When I do look at him, it’s as if he’s filled out more, slightly taller with a swagger of confidence, holding his head up higher.

  A male Alpha who has come into his own, who’s thriving in his new position of power.

  Cash gets up off the picnic table, grumbling something under his breath. His mother gives him a snap of her jaw but doesn’t say a word to him.

  “Rya, would it be okay if I came to your house tomorrow? I heard Cash is going over to fix some holes in your wall that you have. I’d like to tag along, if that’s okay?” She waits for my answer. I glance at Kennedy, whose head is slightly forward, hair covering her face.

  “It would just be Cash and me. I want to watch him fix those holes properly. Drywall can be a tricky thing. You need to be patient with the drying process, and he’s not a patient wolf.” Tears drip onto the picnic table, wetting the surface slightly.

  “That would be okay.” I watch Cash bringing two plates of food. He sets both down in front of him with one fork.

  “We’re going to try this again, Kennedy.” I can see how she trembles slightly with her name coming from his lips.

  He pierces a watermelon with the fork, putting it to her mouth. Her head turns as she tries to slide away from him.

  “Kennedy, remember what happened last time. You either eat this or I make you. What will it be?” His voice is restrained. His mother just looks on. My mouth is slightly open, not able to look away.

  He presses it against her closed mouth, jaw clenched tight. He’s quick pulling her hair back until her cry opens her mouth. He shoves the piece into her mouth, closing her jaw with his hands.

  “If you spit it out, I will make you eat that piece again and again until you swallow it down. If you throw up what I feed you, you will eat it again.” Her hands go around her stomach as she’s rocking back and forth. He’s re-programming new thought processes into that wolf, teaching her how to eat from his hand nicely. It’s a long uphill battle he’s waging against something that is so foreign to her.

  She does swallow it down but then gags, throwing it up. He forks it up, forcefully putting it back into her mouth.

  “Eat and swallow what I give you,” he hisses in her ear, but his hand is gently rubbing her back. The pack is watching on, not saying a word.

  “We have a different approach on this kind of thing, Rya,” the Luna tells me, hooking her arm into mine as she leads me toward Dallas and a man wh
o must be his father.

  He has intense eyes of the brooding ocean. He reminds me of a Silverback gorilla as he strides toward us. Strong body, rippling muscles that can’t hide underneath his clothes. Matured and aged, he is the most dominant here. I can’t even hold my position as his eyes land on mine. I tuck my shoulders in slightly, wincing with a need to go down on one knee.

  “Don’t do that, Rya. Stand tall. Meet him eye to eye. He likes that challenge.” The Luna holds her ground, giving her mate an appreciated once-over. Dallas walks side by side with his father toward me.

  “It’s nice that he came to the barbecue.” I can’t think of anything else to say. Words are leaving me as Dallas approaches, just staring at me now. His thoughts are raging inside of his mind. He doesn’t bother to hide his feelings. Want is the one emotion consuming him.

  “My mate would never miss this.” She’s smiling now to him as he approaches.

  “What’s going on?” I have a confused expression on my face.

  “This is a mating ceremony. Didn’t Dallas tell you about this, Rya?”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head and taking a step back.

  Dallas is looking at me, his emotions saturating my skin with his need to claim me.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The B Side

  Squealing, giggling little bodies jump into the pile of leaves, tumbling the colors up in the air, so when they come down the leaves are scattered everywhere.

  Dallas looks at me. His hair is warm and smooth, cut short at the edges with a little more on the top. Just a light trace of stubble on his face, as if he shaved late last night but not today.

  “Whose mating ceremony is it?” I ask as Luna Grace looks toward Kennedy and Cash.

  “Theirs.” I swallow down the acid that climbs suddenly from the pit of my stomach.

  “Does she know?” I regard Kennedy sitting on the picnic table being force fed by her mate. She’s crying so hard that she can’t even breathe. He just keeps on her. He’s whispering in her ear, hand rubbing her back. He tries to rub her cheek, and she slaps it away. He holds that hand down while his other hand rubs that same cheek; all the while he’s saying something to her. She regurgitates her food again, and he feeds it back to her.

  “Yes, she knows.” That’s all she gets to say as the two males stand in front of us.

  Luna Grace embraces that Silverback male. Cheek to cheek, he lifts her against him as if they haven’t seen each other in a very long time.

  “My female.” He breathes into her ear, very low, pressing his nose against her mark. His teeth descend slightly.

  “Not now,” she says. He just bites her as she stills in his arms. He holds her like this, firm against his body, before releasing her with a gentle kiss to his mark.

  “Do you feel better now?” Her voice is lower, and a flush appears on her face.

  “Slightly, but I’ll feel much better later.” He gives her a very sly smile that they both must understand, because she returns it while Dallas looks away, uncomfortable. No one likes to think their parents are still having fun.

  “Father, this is Rya. Rya, this is my father, Alpha Clinton.” Hard eyes take me in from the bottom of my feet to the top of my head. He sniffs the air slightly. His eyes fall to mine, the muscle in his cheek twitches, yet I don’t look away. I want to, but I feel firmly planted in my spot. Eye contact with an Alpha is very hard on a lesser wolf. Shoulders want to crouch, and you want to fall into yourself, turn your tail inwards with the dominance they exude. They smell different with more testosterone in their system. More of the Wild in them. I can sense the change that’s happened with Dallas’s smell. He’s becoming more than what he was.

  “Nice to meet you, Rya. My mate has told me a great deal about you. I’m looking forward to getting to know you better, along with your family.” He doesn’t touch me or shake my hand like a human. He keeps all contact away from me.

  “Thank you, Alpha Clinton. Nice meeting you as well.” He’s looking at my eyes with a smile on his face.

  “So it’s true you are moon blessed.”

  “So I have been told.” My eyes mean different things for different packs.

  “Some would say that you are very special, that the moon has touched you herself.” He takes a step toward me, inhaling again.

  “So much of the moon’s smell on you. My son is very blessed.” He looks toward Dallas, who has his head down slightly. His emotions are swirling around from one to the other, and it’s hard to choose what’s winning out.

  He still has my eyes, a turn of lip showing a slight fang. “You should really watch how you look into wolves’ eyes, little moon. You need to be able to back up what you are doing.” I cast my eyes to the ground, knowing better than holding an Alpha’s eye for too long. It’s as if I want to challenge them.

  “Rya, I was hoping my mate and myself could have a talk with you and my son together alone to discuss this unusual relationship you have begun to form.” The Alpha’s voice is strong and vibrating against my chest.

  “When she’s ready,” Dallas interjects before I have a chance to answer.

  “That would be fine, Alpha Clinton. I know I have to answer for what I have done.” I hang my head now with how shameful I feel.

  “I would say your wolf has initiative. It’s something you’re born with. You can’t learn it; it’s just in you.” He smiles to me gently, trying to calm the sweeping disgust in myself that I feel.

  I see that Cash is dragging Kennedy away from the table, as her fingers are trying to grip the side of the wood, holding on as if her life depends on it.

  Looking around, I see nothing special, no decorations, no balloons, flowers, streamers. Nothing that says this is a mating ceremony. It’s as if this is not a special day. That no one cared enough to make anything really nice for the new couple. I see no presents on the table, no cards with money in a birdcage. Nothing around here that stands out, that this is something that means something to the wolves who are binding themselves together.

  The female usually is dressed nice, with makeup and hair done, the male in nice dress pants and shoes. It’s as if this is just thrown together half assed.

  Cash is pulling on her hands as she screams for him to stop. He keeps at it until the last of her fingertip hold is broken on the wood. He lifts her up against him as her feet kick at his most delicate places.

  “Stop.” It’s all he says as he pinches her ear hard. She stills with the pain. It’s not meant to cause damage, just subdue with great pressure to the nerve ending. It’s a very humane way to show dominance.

  Once she stops her display of outrage, Cash leads Kennedy up onto the top deck. Pack members are gathered around like they are going to watch an outdoor concert.

  Kennedy stands there looking solemnly at the lake; her eyes are only focused on that little island. Is she having memories about the little land in the middle of the lake filled with blueberries? Tears keep coming. She doesn’t even bother to wipe them away from her freckled face. Hair blowing in the breeze gets stuck on her cheek. Her skin is pale, no longer sporting a healthy glow. You can see the pain and misery in her soul.

  Her skirt moves in all kinds of directions as the wind slightly picks up. Her bare thighs are exposed, and Cash can’t help but stare at them. Waves start to crash against the shore, the wind whispering a low moan through the forest as it bends the leafless limbs back and forth.

  I can see Cash’s strong pulse in his neck pound away, his hurricane inside himself blowing furiously.

  He takes her hand in his. She pulls away, but his hold is too strong to break. The sun slowly sinks in the sky behind us, while the moon is rising above. The sky whispers a sigh as the last rays of light leave behind the darkened night that holds the moon in its place.

  It’s just Cash and Kennedy up there, no one else. Just those two holding hands, facing each other.

  His muscles are twisting and shaking underneath the skin that wants to shed. She holds herself still,
except her hands keep trying to break the grip.

  An incantation of words begins to pour from his mouth.

  “You are mine. You’re my hope, my love, my light, my weakness, my strength.” He pauses as if she is supposed to say something back to him. She keeps her mouth tight lipped, and I can see him eyeing her hard.

  “You are mine. You’re my hope…” she cries out on trembling vocal cords. He just stares dead into her eyes.

  “My love.” It looks like she can hardly stand up. Her breath is leaving her, the pressure on her hands looking like it’s becoming unbearable. Her fingertips are white with the loss of circulation. He holds her in place, demanding her to say the words without him having to say a single word to continue on.

  “My light, my weakness, my strength…” She’s crying again, but it’s not with happiness.

  Dallas and his brothers stand with their parents in the front row of this show. I can’t see their faces as they watch this beneath the moon’s eye. I’m in the back, not really appreciating what this view has to offer.

  This should be so much more, except there is nothing else. It’s as if she isn’t cared about. This won’t be a memory she puts up on her wall.

  Pulling her into him, he breathes in her scent. He makes a face of slight disgust; I guess those deep crevices in her skin still hold the lingering scent of another. That should all change now as he will wipe away all traces of him off her body. It’s the mind that needs to be wiped clean.

  He doesn’t say anything else, and she tries to back away now. He’s swift, sinking teeth into a neck that will never show his mark because of the other it holds.

  A soft moan escapes her lips, her body wrapping around him without her consent. Nature taking its course, he ties himself to her. He staggers and almost falls as her essence slams into him. He sheds a tear; I’m not sure what for. He looks at her now as if really seeing her for the first time.