A Pack of Vows and Tears

by Olivia Wildenstein

  “How?” I asked.

  “You shouldn’t want to—”

  “How?” August asked, voice firm.

  “If mating bonds aren’t consummated—”

  “Consummated?” I asked.

  “The bond snaps into place through sexual relations.”

  My cheeks lit up like brake lights. Oh . . .

  “As I was saying, if they aren’t consummated by the next solstice, the bond disintegrates.”

  Rolling the hem of my sky-blue camisole between my cold fingers, I said, “You’d just have to stay away for six months, August. You were planning on deploying for that long, right?”

  Slow seconds passed before he answered, “Right.”

  Frank’s features were scrunched in disapproval. “You’d be destroying something sacred.”

  Pounding on the door made me jump.

  “Frank?” Liam.

  Oh, crap. I wanted Liam to come in as much as I wanted to share another meal with the vile hunter who’d killed my father, Aidan Michaels.

  I pressed my clammy palms against the nape of my neck, trying to lower my body temperature.

  August cocked an eyebrow, as though waiting for my approval to open the door.

  I reasoned that Liam deserved to hear what was happening. And yet, I abhorred the thought of him finding out. I was afraid of what it would do to him . . . to us.

  I finger-combed my hair so that it draped around my cheeks and nodded.

  August stepped away from the door at the same time as it flew open. And then Liam was standing there, crowding the entire space, slashed, bloodied T-shirt flapping. Although the cut over his heart had sealed shut, the remnants of the pledging ceremony had left behind a razor-thin pale mark and reddish smears. Like Liam’s chest, my wrist had also sealed shut, yet the place I’d sliced still smarted.

  He shut the door behind him with a bang. “I waited. I’m done waiting. What the hell’s going on?” he demanded, a brittleness to his tone.

  I rubbed the thin streaks of dried blood on the inside of my wrist, careful not to skim the knit skin.

  Silence.

  The sound of it was so hostile that I almost explained everything, but the words kept jamming in my throat.

  Slowly, Frank said, “I was explaining to August and Ness the dynamics of mating bonds.”

  “Mating bonds?” Liam’s eyes flared. “Is that why—why they smelled like they’d—”

  I cringed. “Please don’t say it. Please.”

  “Like we what?” August asked.

  Maybe I would leave. Race away from Boulder until I didn’t feel like I was about to die of embarrassment.

  No one spoke for a long second. At least, not out loud. From the surprise rippling over August’s features, I suspected Liam had finished his sentence through the mind-link.

  I couldn’t sit here any longer. “I need to go home,” I said, shooting up.

  “Home?” Liam lifted one of his dark eyebrows.

  Right. He expected me to go to his home. “To the inn.”

  There was a tiny hitch in his breathing. This doesn’t change anything, Ness. His voice stroked my harried brain.

  “Doesn’t it?” I whispered hoarsely.

  Not to me.

  Frank had gotten up too. He clapped a hand on Liam’s shoulder. “It’s not wise to get between mates.”

  Liam shrugged off Frank’s hand. “With all due respect, Frank, it’s not wise to tell your Alpha what to do.”

  Frank let his hand drop. “You’re right. I apologize.”

  “Besides, we both know firsthand that mates don’t always end up together,” Liam added.

  Did Frank have a mate? Or did Liam have one? No. If he’d had one, he would’ve known why August and I smelled like we’d . . . like we’d—Ugh. I couldn’t even think it without growing embarrassed.

  “When do you deploy, August?” Liam asked.

  A vein throbbed in August’s neck. Even though his expression didn’t betray his annoyance, I felt the insistent pop-pop of it deep in my belly. I didn’t understand the reason for it since the choice to leave was his. Liam wasn’t chasing him away.

  “In the morning.” August’s gaze hadn’t moved off my overheated face.

  “If you’re going back to the inn, Ness,” Frank said, “can you take Jeb with you? Eric got him here, but he needs to hang around a while longer.”

  “I don’t have a car . . . ” Or a license. First thing tomorrow, I’d stop by the DMV.

  “I’ll give you and Jeb a lift. Let me say goodnight to everyone,” Liam said.

  “Liam, the elders and I need to go over many things with you,” Frank said.

  “I’ll just drop her off and then—”

  “I can drive them. I was leaving anyway,” August said.

  Liam narrowed his eyes. The friction between the two males was so heavy that if I stuck out my finger there would probably be static.

  “That’d be great. Thank you, August,” Frank said.

  I clasped Liam’s hand, spread his fingers with mine, because his jagged expression told me he didn’t find this arrangement great.

  “And, Ness, Evelyn’s at my house. Just so you don’t worry when you get back to the inn.”

  Thinking about Evelyn, the woman who’d taken care of me during the six years I was living in LA with my mother, stole my thoughts away from Liam and August for a welcomed moment. Did that mean she and Frank were rekindling what they’d had at the time she was still married to the werewolf-hating hunter who’d shot my father? I still couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that Evelyn had once been a woman named Gloria Michaels, wife of Aidan, lover of Frank, citizen of Boulder, Colorado. I wondered if I would ever come to terms with that.

  “Tell her I’ll come by to see her tomorrow.”

  Frank nodded as he slipped between August and Liam.

  Liam let go of my hand and wound his arm around my waist, pulling me against him possessively.

  “I’ll get Jeb and wait for you in the car.” August backed out of the room.

  Like a spool of thread, I felt him retreat. But then I felt something else, a hand travel up my spine, settle on the nape of my neck, tip my face up.

  “It’s just a car ride. And like he said, he’s leaving tomorrow.”

  “I’m aware of all that, but I’d rather be the one taking you home.”

  I kissed the puckered spot between his eyebrows.

  Finally he sighed and caressed my cheek, nails scraping gently over the pale scars left behind by his claws during our last trial. I could tell that, although unintentional, hurting me still tormented him.

  He hovered his mouth over mine. “You are still mine.”

  Was he reminding me or himself? “I am.”

  His tongue skimmed the seam of my lips, prodding them open, while his deft fingers massaged the back of my head, eliciting a groan from me. The sound had him deepening the kiss, deepening the kneading. After a delicious minute, our mouths came apart.

  “I’ll stop by as soon as I’m done here. Leave your balcony door open.”

  “’Kay,” I breathed.

  He lowered his hand to the base of my spine and guided me back into the main room. Although people were still chatting boisterously, I felt gazes dart our way, saw pupils pulse with intrigue, caught nostrils flaring.

  “Everything’ll be okay, Ness,” Liam murmured.

  I glanced up at him, wishing he hadn’t uttered those words, because they felt like a curse. If fated mates were real, then curses were too, right?

  2

  When I walked out of Headquarters, August was closing the door to the backseat of the pickup. He must’ve secured the seatbelt across my grief-stricken uncle’s chest, because Jeb was wearing it and looked in no state to have put it on himself.

  I slid into the passenger seat and clipped in my own belt. “Thanks for the ride.”

  August kept his gaze on the windshield, on the dark slope of pines bathed in white moonlight. Yesterday, the
moon had been full and all of the wolves, young and old, had run wild through the forest. August hadn’t been among them. At least not when I’d been with the pack.

  After turning the key in the ignition, he drove down the dirt road, past the rusted fence and the large wooden sign emblazoned with the words Private Property.

  “Will you go for a run before you leave?” I asked.

  “Yeah.”

  Old August, the one who’d looked upon me like a little sister, would surely have asked me if I wanted to run with him. This new August . . . he didn’t ask me to join him. Not that I would’ve gone. I hadn’t left the party early to go for a run. Besides, what would Liam think if he showed up on my balcony and I wasn’t home?

  I reached over and touched August’s knuckles before realizing that I probably shouldn’t touch him at all. What if it somehow strengthened our bond? I removed my fingers, feeling my navel pulse as wildly as my heart.

  “I’m really sorry about . . . about all this, August.”

  “Not your fault, Ness,” he said in a rough voice. “No one’s fucking fault.”

  I winced.

  After a beat, he said, “I’ll have to add a penny in Mom’s curse jar now. Closer to a quarter actually.”

  For the first time since August had driven back to Headquarters, I smiled. “She still has it?”

  “Oh, yes. She calls it her retirement fund.”

  I smiled wider. “I miss your mom.” Preoccupied with making a place for myself in Boulder, I hadn’t paid Isobel a visit yet.

  “She misses you too. You should go see her once I’m gone. It’ll make her happy.”

  I nodded. “Good thing I’m signing up to get my driver’s permit tomorrow.”

  August glanced at me, his face much more relaxed than earlier. “You don’t have your license?”

  “I didn’t really need one back in LA. Besides, we didn’t have a car, so it wouldn’t have served much of a purpose.”

  Jeb made a little sound, between a wheeze and a sob, which had me spinning in my seat. His lids were shut, though, and his neck craned at an awkward angle—he was asleep.

  “Still can’t tell me where you’re going?” I asked August, turning back toward him.

  “It’s classified.”

  “But I’m your mate.”

  He almost swerved off the road.

  “Sorry. That was supposed to be funny; it wasn’t.” I wrung my fingers in my lap, wondering what had gotten into me to even joke about our new bond. “I can’t believe I just said that. Can you just delete it from your memory?”

  August didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned on the radio, tuning into a jazz station. August had always been a great fan of jazz. I used to tease him about it, telling him he had the taste of an old man. Unfortunately, I didn’t consider him such an old man anymore. Would’ve been a heck of a lot easier if I did.

  Speaking of old men . . . “Did Frank have a mate?”

  “Not to my knowledge.”

  “Does anyone else in the pack have a mate?”

  “Eric. He and his wife are going on fifty years.”

  “That’s a long time.”

  “My parents are celebrating thirty next month.”

  I appreciated his reminder that true love existed outside of mating bonds. Not that I’d doubted it. After all, my parents had loved each other, and they hadn’t been fated mates. “That’s crazy.”

  “Yeah.” He studied the dusky road ahead. “So what are your plans for the big eighteen?”

  I rubbed my palms against my jeans to stop myself from fidgeting. “That’s still a long time from now.”

  “Five weeks isn’t that long.”

  I moistened my lips. “I’m not much of a birthday person.”

  “You used to love birthdays. You used to request fireworks. I almost set myself on fire lighting one up for you. Remember?”

  “I remember.” The bottom of his jeans were still smoking when he’d jogged back to us. “You cursed so much your mom joked she would go on a huge shopping spree thanks to all those pennies you owed her.”

  The memory made me smile, but it also made my eyes heat up and my lips wobble. This year would be the first birthday I’d spend without Mom.

  He must’ve sensed my sudden sorrow, because he touched the top of my hand. “How about we don’t talk about birthdays?”

  “Yeah,” I croaked.

  “Tell me more about LA.”

  I discreetly wiped my wet lashes before feeding him tidbits of the years we’d spent apart.

  “It wasn’t all bad,” I said, flipping my phone over and over. Its screen suddenly lit up with a message.

  LIAM: Don’t worry, but don’t leave your patio door unlocked, okay? I’ll be there in an hour.

  How was I supposed to not worry?

  ME: You think Everest will ambush me?

  LIAM: Just lock up OK?

  My nerves churned. OK, I typed back.

  August glanced my way, and the car swerved a little. “What?”

  I stuck my elbow on the armrest and cradled my head. “It’s nothing.”

  “You forget I have an internal lie detector. You’re scared. Why are you scared?”

  “I’m not scared.” I shook my head because my words didn’t seem to convince him. “Annoyed, but not scared.”

  “Why are you annoyed?”

  I sighed. “Liam seems to think Everest didn’t flee Boulder.”

  August side-eyed me.

  “You know what he did to me, right?”

  “I heard pieces of the story. How about you start from the beginning?”

  I glanced over at my uncle, who had drool leaking from his mouth. Even though he was asleep, I kept my voice low as I recounted how Everest convinced me I’d killed Liam’s father with the three anti-shifting pills I slipped him the night I’d paid him a visit. Which led me to tell August about the escort agency, about my alliance with the Pine Pack Alpha, about Evelyn’s kidnapping, and my cousin’s blackmail.

  I scratched a fleck of dried blood off the inside of my wrist. “I can’t figure out if Everest was wishing I would die or if he was hoping I would kill Liam.”

  Although splashed with moonlight, August’s face was too dark to read. “Your cousin was always shifty.”

  “The shifty shifter.”

  August didn’t smile at my little play on words.

  “I know you two never really got along, August, but he and I did. I’m holding out hope he wasn’t rooting for my death. I’m holding out hope he wasn’t hoping for Liam’s either . . . That he did this to test my loyalty to Liam.”

  After a long beat, August said, “You should stay at my parents’ house tonight. Every night for that matter. At least Dad can keep you safe.”

  I shot him a smile. “I’m not going to hide. If anything, I plan on hunting my cousin down.”

  He gripped the steering wheel tighter.

  “I’d rather be the hunter than the hunted.”

  “No,” August barked.

  Jeb released a loud snore.

  “I’m not scared,” I said, dropping my voice.

  “Let the pack bring him in. Liam’s the Alpha now, and that’s what Alphas do. They exact justice in the name of the pack.”

  “He’ll rip out Everest’s throat before hearing him out. I want answers, August. I need answers.”

  “Maybe I should stay . . . ”

  “What? No.” I winced at how fast the word whipped out of my mouth. The strange tether in my stomach writhed like a snake. However petty, August couldn’t stay. I had enough to contend with without our weird fated-mate connection. “Don’t change your plans on my account. Everything’ll be fine.”

  “I know you want me gone because of Liam, but do you really think I could live with myself if I left and something happened to you?”

  “Nothing’ll happen. I made it out of the trials alive, didn’t I?”

  He grunted.

  “Look, I’ll promise you something. If at any
point I’m worried about my safety, I’ll go to your parents’ house.”

  His hazel eyes were murky with doubt.

  “I promise.”

  “I want this in writing.”

  “August Watt”—I slapped a palm against my chest—“you don’t trust me?”

  “You’ve been known to backpedal on promises.”

  The playfulness I’d gone for withered away. “What do you mean? What promises didn’t I keep?”

  “When you left for LA, you said you would write.”

  I nibbled on my bottom lip. “Mom didn’t want me to make contact with anyone from Boulder. She said cutting my ties with everyone here would help me move on, but in retrospect, I wonder if she did this so Heath wouldn’t find out where we’d gone. She was scared of him . . . after what he did to her.”

  “What did he do to her?”

  Right . . . Only a select handful of people were privy to this. Not once did I regret that Everest killed Heath. Liam’s father deserved what he got.

  “He raped her, August,” I whispered, as though saying it softly could somehow dim the horror.

  August’s eyes rounded. “Shit . . . ” he whispered, voice as rough as sandpaper.

  We didn’t talk after that.

  The tight coil of mountain roads lengthened and straightened as we approached the glowing inn. I was thankful there were guests. I wouldn’t have wanted to go back to a silent, dark place. I had enough silence and darkness inside of me.

  After parking in front of the revolving glass doors, August draped my uncle’s limp arm over his broad shoulder and heaved him into the lobby. I grabbed the master key from the small office behind the bell desk and led the way up to my uncle’s private apartment on the first floor. Jeb’s place wasn’t as grand as Everest’s attic dwelling, but it was still vast—my uncle and aunt’s closet alone was the size of my entire bedroom.

  After August laid my uncle in bed, I pulled off Jeb’s shoes, tucked a blanket around him, and then turned off the lights. My nostrils itched with the scent of Lucy’s prized potpourri. How could Jeb stand it? I’d had to put mine out on the patio, which angered my already pissy aunt.

  I wondered briefly what sort of accommodations Eric had given her in his basement. Did it make me a terrible person to hope she was lying on the cold, hard floor? The image of her standing over Evelyn tied to a chair made me ball my fists. How I hated Lucy . . .