by JJ King
I stared at him, at them, then rotated my head to stare at her. “Old Ones, Daniella!” I scolded, yanked my arm away from her claws. “You scared the shit out of me. I thought we were under attack again.”
Her face drained of color then bloomed a bright red that almost matched her lipstick. Baffled, I leaned out from behind our hiding spot and sized up the guy that was apparently making her crazy. He was tall, well over six feet, and wide in the shoulders. His dark hair was loose around a face the color of bronze.
“Ohhh,” I said, grinning. “He’s gorgeous. Who is he? I haven’t seen him around campus before.” Curiosity chased away the terror and calmed my racing heart.
“His name is Grayson,” she whispered, peeking out again. “Grayson LittleFoot.”
I blinked in surprise, recognizing the name right away. “As in…”
“As in the youngest son of Jacob LittleFoot, Sylvie’s co-Alpha,” Daniella said on a slow exhalation. “And,” she added, tearing her gaze from him to meet mine, “I think, my soul mate.”
Chapter 8
“Your supporting characters are falling a little flat,” Xavier said with a frown, tapping the manuscript in front of him. “You’re going to need to go back and flesh out your character descriptions.”
I nodded and scribbled a note in the journal I kept specifically for this project. I’d been meeting with Xavier once a week since the plane crash to discuss my current work in progress, a big fat pile of crap as far as I was concerned, but a promising idea according to him.
Besides Bash and Rory, writing was my solace. It got me out of my head and gave me distance from the fears that constantly swirled in my brain and put me squarely in another world. The fact that my world with its dystopian society lead by a despot leader who was very closely modeled after my insane uncle, might not have been the healthiest thing in the world, but it was helping me cope. I’d heard it said before that authors have amazing coping skills. If we were hurt, damaged, happy, sad, whatever… it didn’t matter, we just wrote about it. We purged the feelings from our hearts and souls and minds onto the page and felt better for it.
I wondered when I’d feel completely better. I assumed it wouldn’t happen anytime soon, not unless someone managed to take out Viktor and free me from the impending doom of his death threats.
Fuck, my life was complicated.
“Think about your favorite TV shows,” Xavier said, pushing up from his desk chair to wander to the mini fridge set in the corner. He lifted a bottle of water with a raised eyebrow and brought it to me when I nodded and murmured “thank you.”
I considered what he was saying and thought of my favorite show, Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Buffy was a great character, there is no doubt in that, but it was the Scooby gang that really made the show complete. The development of Willow, Xander, and even Giles pushed the plot forward, kept it interesting. I scratched another note in my journal. “Okay, I see what you mean. I’ve developed Clarissa and her mother, but Donovan and Sadie need more back story and motivation.”
He twisted the top off his bottle of water and took a long drink, then nodded. “Exactly, like my favorite book series, Game of Thrones. Those books would be nothing if each supporting character wasn’t fully developed, and there are a million different characters. The coolest part about that series, I find, is that the characters you think are supporting might actually turn out to be more important than you first thought. What’s your favorite show?”
“Buffy,” I said without hesitation. I shot him a grin. “Kick ass girl, pretty hair, sexy guy, what more could you ask for?”
He chuckled. “No, I get it. Buffy is the perfect example of what I mean. Characters like Willow, who started in a supporting position, eventually became just as important to the plot, if not more, than Buffy herself.”
“Okay.” I nodded, knowing he was right. “What did you think about the hook at the end of chapter seven?” I chewed my lip while waiting for him to respond and hoped he liked it. I was particularly proud of the punch to the jugular I’d delivered there.
His lips perked up. “I’m not going to lie,” he started, making my heart sink. “I might have cursed you when I read it. I didn’t see it coming, at all, and it kinda blew my mind.” He chuckled. “Elena, this book is going to be amazing. You’ve got a talented and warped mind, two things absolutely necessary for creativity.”
The breath I’d been holding whooshed out of me and the tension in my stomach dissipated. “You really liked it?” I heard the nerves and uncertainty in my voice and wished I didn’t feel it so intensely. It was embarrassing.
Xavier’s eyebrow arched up. “You think that I’d hold back if I didn’t?”
I laughed, remembering the display of red ink splayed across the first essay I completed for his class. It had been a bloodbath and had devastated me, especially since, at the time, I’d been under the assumption that my presence at Alpha Wolf Academy was partially due to his recommendation based on my writing. He’d been a bit of a jackass those first few weeks, mostly because his personal life had been falling apart, and I’d thought the mentor/mentee relationship I’d been looking forward to with him was an impossibility. Then I’d saved his life after the attack on campus and he’d come around. Now, these weekly meetings were at the top of my list of priorities, right there with The Sisterhood, my training, my soulmate, and my friends.
“Alright,” he said, moving back behind his desk. “Instead of working on chapter eight this week, why don’t you add to those character descriptions in your book Bible. Then rework the sections where Donovan and Sadie appear. You’ve done a really good job of describing the setting and creating the mood, so adding to their characters should level up what you’ve done so far. Plus,” he added with a nod towards my manuscript, “that hook will be even more effective if the reader cares more about the supporting characters.”
I chewed my lip as I wrote a few more notes then snapped my journal shut and looked up with a grin. “Got it. And, if I haven’t said it already a million times, thank you for this.”
Xavier lifted his hands like a martyr and said in a deadpan tone, “I live to serve.” He laughed when I smacked him on the arm with my journal.
I gathered up my stuff, folding the manuscript he’d scribbled notes on into my journal, and stood to leave. I had a biology class starting in less than an hour that I needed to get ready for.
“Hey,” Xavier called out as I opened the door to his office. “I know it’s traditional for authors and all artists, really, to question their abilities. But you’re good, Elena, and you’re only going to get better with time and experience.”
I hugged his words tight to my chest and nodded because my throat was too filled with emotion to speak. By the look in his eyes, which were filled with pride, I knew he understood what that kind of praise meant to me. I slipped through the open door and closed it with a click then rushed back to my room with a smile plastered across my face, and joy in my heart.
♀♀♀
I stretched my neck and groaned at the satisfying snap of spine. I’d been working on my character sketches between classes and sexy times with Bash for the last couple of days and was fairly confident that I’d given Donovan and Sadie real personalities and quirks that would give them room to grow and develop.
I was stiff, bored, and ready for some fun. But Bash was busy playing rugby on the far side of campus for the rest of the evening, so sexy times were out of the question, at least until after his game, when he came home sweaty, and dirty, and…
“Whoa,” I said on a laugh, pushing to my feet. I was pretty hard-up when the thought of my soulmate, dirty and sweaty, made my thighs tighten. It wasn’t as if I was actually hard up, in fact, I had more sex in the last couple of weeks than I ever had in my life. There is just something more about being with the other part of your soul that made physical contact or emotional contact, for that matter, tantalizing.
I wasn’t the philosophical type, not really, but I’d giv
en a bit of time to thinking about the bond between soulmates. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t supposed to be perfect. He still annoyed the shit out of me sometimes as, I’m sure, I did him. But even when I was annoyed with him, I wanted to be with him, to touch him, to taste him. And when we weren’t together, physically in the same space, I still felt him. He was as much a part of me now as the blood that ran in my veins. Our new connection only added to that intimacy.
We tested it out, the limits to our new bond. It turned out, that we could communicate psychically from the far corners of campus. We hadn’t gone beyond those borders, due to the fact that a psychopath was trying to murder me, but we both assumed there was no limit. That was comforting, and sexy as hell.
Of course, he didn’t hear my every thought and I didn’t hear his. To send our thoughts, we had to project them, focus on sending them. With an evil grin, I bit down on my lower lip and sent him a particularly vivid image of what I would like to do to him tonight after his game.
I felt his response immediately and dissolved into laughter when I felt him fall flat on his face in the muddy field.
Sorry, I thought at him, trying to hide my amusement.
Old Ones, woman! he sent back with obvious exasperation. This wasn’t the first time I’d sent him mental porn, nor would it be the last, I thought. You nearly killed me! I thought for a moment that he’d just go back to the game, but a second later, he sent back a thundering wave of love and desire so huge that it floored me.
I staggered to my bed and sat as my legs turned to jelly.
I’ll see you tonight, Bash thought with another flash of lust, then disappeared.
“Wow. That escalated quickly,” I murmured fanning myself with my hand. When my legs were steady enough to hold me up, I made my way to the bathroom and took a quick shower. My body was buzzing with energy and I needed an outlet that wasn’t sexual, so I grabbed my phone and texted Rory.
Girl’s night?
I could fit in time with the girls before jumping my mate. I didn’t have to wait long for her response.
What do you have in mind?
Rory and I hadn’t had the chance to hang out since the party, so I figured I may have snacks, movies, and chatting would do us both good.
Pajamas, pizza, wine, and Dirty Dancing. You can bring Addison if you want.
I knew what it was like, discovering your soulmate and wanting to spend every moment with them. Bash and I had been together for almost six months now, but my desire to be with him had only increased in that time. Besides, I really wanted to get to know my best friend’s soulmate a bit better, even if seeing her made me feel guilty for Adeline’s death.
Sounds fun. She says she’d love to. What time?
I glanced at the time, surprised that it was so late in the evening. The day had completely gotten away from me.
8:00 PM good?
Perfect. We’ll bring the pizza.
I’ve got the wine. See you then.
Byeeeeee.
I grinned at her farewell and pulled off my towel, letting it drop on the floor at my feet. For a real girl’s night, there was only one choice in attire. I pulled a cheetah print onesie from my pajama drawer and pulled it on over my underwear. A pair of thick wool socks, hand knitted by my Nan, completed the ensemble. I quickly braided my hair, which had sprouted another three inches since Christmas, and grinned at my reflection. I was ready.
My phone dinged a moment later and I picked it up, expecting another text message from Rory. Instead, I saw one from Daniella.
Hey, want to do something tonight? Bash is busy with his guy friends, so I know you two aren’t canoodling. ;-)
My smile faded. I didn’t want to lie to her, but I also didn’t think Rory would feel comfortable having Daniella join us for girl’s night. She and I had just started to understand one another, I couldn’t really expect someone else, someone who had been the butt of more than one of Daniella’s jokes over the years, to feel the same way. Still, it felt wrong to leave her out. Especially after Daniella had confessed to having no girlfriends, or real friends, for that matter, on campus or off. I switched over to my chat with Rory and typed out the question.
Okay, I know you’re going to hate this idea, but what would you think of Daniella joining us tonight?
I waited three seconds and winced when I saw her response.
Are you insane?!
I sighed and tried to explain.
I know. She’s a bitch. And she’s been a bitch to you many times. But I’m connected to her through Bash and, I don’t know, we talked, and things are better. She’s Bash’s twin, Rory.
I felt Rory’s reluctance in the time it took for her to write a response and was flooded with guilt from both sides as she typed.
Fine. But you better have lots of wine.
I smiled.
I have six bottles and Doritos.
I make no promises, okay?
I chewed my lips and tried to imagine the possible ways tonight could end. Screaming, punching, World War III. I sighed and wrote back.
Deal.
I hit send then put down my phone and assessed my room. It was pretty clean but could use some work. I set to work, gathered my supplies, and prepared for war.
Chapter 9
Rory stared at Daniella. Daniella stared at Rory. Addison shifted nervously and took another sip from her glass. I rolled my eyes so hard I saw the back of my brain and sighed.
“So,” I started, feeling the need to break the building tension with words. “What movie do you guys want to watch? I have Dirty Dancing, The Greatest Showman, Bridesmaids, and Mean Girls.”
“Mean girls,” Rory said in a decisive tone, leveling her gaze on Daniella who just arched an eyebrow and didn’t say a word.
“Oh, I love Dirty Dancing so much,” Addison said with a hesitant smile. “It’s my mom’s favorite movie. She watches it every time it comes on TV. Plus, she owns it on DVD, Blu-ray, and even VHS. Not that anyone has VHS players anymore, but she won’t get rid of it.”
I licked my lips and offered Addison a smile. She and I were the only ones in the room who weren’t acting like giant jackasses, so we’d be in charge of choosing the movie. “Dirty Dancing it is, then.” Since it was on Netflix, I turned on the streaming service and typed in the title.
I popped the cork on the second bottle of Pinot Grigio and topped up mine and Addison’s glasses then, without asking, topped up Rory’s and Daniella’s as well. I wasn’t sure if adding alcohol to the mix would make things better or worse, but something had to happen, and soon, or they were going to drive me crazy.
We settled in, three of us on my bed and Daniella in the chair next to the window. I’d forgotten to fill Daniella in on the expected dress code, so she was the only one wearing jeans. She hadn’t said a lot since arriving with two bags full of candy, chips, and chocolate. And not just any chocolate, I’d realized with intense pleasure as she’d emptied out the bags on my desk. Daniella Reeves didn’t show up to a party, even as something as simple as a girl’s night, with Kit Kat bars or even the Christmas favorite, a box of Pot of Gold. No, she brought an assortment of Godiva, Marie Belle, and Jacques Torres chocolates, plus a box of perfectly made macarons in pale pinks, blues, and greens. Even Rory hadn’t been able to turn up her nose at the offerings.
By the time we got to the big dancing at the Sheraton Hotel, we made our way through three bottles of wine and a good chunk of the food. I groaned and rubbed my tummy, then reached for the remote and pause the movie.
“I have to pee so bad,” I said with a moan as I pushed myself up off the bed.
“Me too,” three other voices echoed.
Being a good hostess, I let the others go first, reassuring them that I was okay for the moment when I was on the verge of peeing in my leopard print onesie. When Daniella came out, I raced in and slammed the door.
When I emerged a few minutes later Rory and Addison were helping themselves to another slice of pizza while Daniella was fil
ling her glass from another bottle she’d opened. She took the bottle towards my glass. “Want a refill?”
“Sure,” I said crossing the room to lift my glass. I was already well on my way to being sloshed, but that was the best part about a girl’s night, if you got too drunk all you had to do was fall asleep. Or dance it off.
I grabbed the remote again and turned the movie back on, then began to shake my ass as the music began to play. I put my glass down and reached out a hand to Rory who, without a second’s hesitation, slipped her hand into mine and moved into a perfect twirl. Addison laughed and clapped, and even Daniella broke a grin.
We re-created the scene, then moved on to other scenes and, 10 minutes later, were rolling on the floor laughing after several failed attempts at the final lift, one of which had Addison tossed neatly onto the bed after I couldn’t hold her up for more than two seconds.
“I can do this,” I said, climbing to my feet again. “I’m strong, see?” I flexed my muscles to show them my defined biceps. They made satisfactorily impressive sounds at my display. Even I was impressed by how much progress I’d made lately. “Who’s going to be my Baby?”
Rory shook her head. “I can’t! I might pee myself.”
“I’m out, too,” Addison said with a giggle. “I think I hurt myself that last time.” She stretched her neck to the side and winced.
I eyed Daniella, whose eyes went wide as she turned and tried to run into the bathroom, shouting, “No! Not me.”
I plopped down into my chair and pouted my lip. “You guys are mean. You don’t trust me.”
Daniella peeked out from the bathroom. “I trust you with my brother. That counts, right?”
I brightened. “That does count,” I said, nodding towards her. “He’s the best. Like, literally the best. I have no idea what I did to deserve him.” I shook my head in wonder.
“No,” Rory said, crossing the room to climb to my lap. “You’re the best. He’s a lucky one to deserve you.” She nodded emphatically as if wiser words had never been spoken. Addison agreed by bobbing her head up and down.
