A Pack of Vows and Tears

by Olivia Wildenstein

  Liam scooped the foil packets out and dropped them on the dusty floor.

  “Are they all there?” Lucas asked.

  Liam counted them out slowly. “There’s one missing.”

  One out of thirty or so. Twenty-four pills to a packet.

  When Liam raised his gaze to mine, I tensed up. “I didn’t take it.”

  An emotion flared in his eyes. Pain? Regret? I averted my gaze, the ache of being in his presence still too raw.

  “Ness, I wasn’t insinuating that you had.” He straightened up and tentatively stepped toward me. “Thank you for finding these. And for reporting them.”

  I nodded, gaze on the hodgepodge of Sillin.

  He touched my cheek, and I jerked backward.

  “I should go.” I turned and started through the house, not looking at anything but the floor. I was afraid that my heart, which already felt enlarged with grief, would balloon right out of my chest if I caught sight of something that reminded me of my parents.

  I got back into the car, and under the canopy of stars, with tears dripping and drying on my cheeks, I left my dark home and the stash of drugs that had caused so much harm to pass.

  37

  Freshly brewed coffee was waiting on my desk when I got in the next morning. I wondered if the drink was for me, and when no one came to claim it, I sipped it. I’d slept fitfully, so caffeine was extremely welcomed.

  After I’d left, Liam looped in the whole pack about the recovered drugs. He didn’t mention specifics, like where they’d been found and by whom, but I bet people phoned him to find out. News traveled fast through the pack.

  I took another much-needed sip of the scalding beverage. It was deliciously aromatic, almost like it had been steeped with caramel and cinnamon.

  Since August wasn’t working from the warehouse, I sent him a text: Do I have you to thank for the coffee?

  His answer came much later. Was it good?

  ME: Amazing. You’ll have to tell me what brand it was.

  AUGUST: Glad you liked it.

  AUGUST: How are you feeling?

  I rubbed my brow.

  AUGUST: Ness?

  ME: Fine.

  AUGUST: . . .

  ME: What is . . . supposed to mean?

  AUGUST: It was me grunting.

  Smiling, I scoured my list of emojis until I found one that looked like a flick. I sent it.

  AUGUST: OK?

  ME: That was me flicking you.

  August sent me a smiley face. Then: Shouldn’t you be working?

  Yeah. I should’ve been. Plus I needed to get my mind off the previous night, so I placed my phone face down on the table and didn’t so much as glance its way the remainder of the day.

  Just as I was getting up to go, someone filled the office’s doorframe.

  “Did I offend you with my last text?” August asked, leaning his broad shoulder into the door frame.

  “Huh?” I strapped my bag across my body, then lifted my hair to free it from the strap.

  “You never answered me after I told you that you should be working.”

  Oh. I smiled. “I didn’t answer you because I took your advice to heart. I worked.” I grabbed the travel mug I’d cleaned earlier and carried it over to him. “Thanks again for the coffee.”

  “Same one tomorrow morning?”

  “You don’t need to make me coffee every morning, August.”

  “I live next door. Besides, I make a pot for myself. Pouring it into a mug and dropping it off isn’t too hard.”

  “Well then, sure.” I extended the mug, and he took it, our fingers brushing.

  A little jolt went through my hand.

  Static.

  Or maybe it was the link.

  I stuck both my hands into the back pockets of my jeans.

  “Got any plans tonight?” His voice sounded a little rough.

  The blood pounding against my eardrums probably created this distortion, because his expression was entirely normal.

  “I’m having dinner with a UCB jock. What about you?”

  “A UCB jock?” He straightened up, which seemed to give him an extra inch. “You’re serious?”

  “As a heart attack.”

  He grunted.

  I flicked his pec. He didn’t rub the spot I’d flicked.

  Instead, he crossed his arms, tendons pinching underneath the skin. “What’s the guy’s name?”

  “Why?”

  “Just wondering if I know him.”

  I smiled a little. “You know him.”

  His pupils pulsed. “Really? Is it David?”

  “David? Who’s David?”

  “Dexter’s cousin. The kid with the birthmark under the eye. He plays football at UCB. He’s a junior.”

  “Oh. No.” If David’s a junior, thus two years older than I am, and you think he’s a kid, what does that make me? “My date’s actually the former running back for the Colorado Buffaloes.”

  August’s gaze narrowed.

  “Might’ve heard of him. Jeb Clark?” I winked at him, and his eyes went wide. Then I added, “No dating for me in the near future. I’m taking some time off men. Like a year, or a decade.” I slid past August. “Anyway, I promised Jeb I’d eat with him tonight since I stood him up yesterday.” I stopped halfway through the warehouse and spun around. “Want to come?”

  He studied the lid of the mug. “No. I’ll get some more work done.”

  I was a little surprised he preferred staying in the office over a warm meal with family friends. But then I realized something. “You don’t have to worry about me, August. I’m not depressed or anything.”

  He glanced up from the mug, brow knitted as though I’d misconstrued his concern. He opened his mouth to speak just as a shrill howl pierced the night, and then another and another. My chest tightened, and my skin bristled, the fine hairs thickening. I’d never heard it before yet knew it was my Alpha’s call. The insistence of it had me gaping at August.

  “You’re going to have to postpone that dinner of yours,” he said, setting the travel mug down and yanking off his shirt.

  The urgency of the moment was momentarily supplanted by the sight of August’s bare chest which gave new meaning to the term washboard abs—you could most probably do laundry against his abdomen.

  “Ness? Three howls means something serious has happened.”

  I snapped out of my daze. Had the Sillin been stolen again? Or maybe they were dummy tablets? I lowered my gaze to the swirls of sawdust beneath my feet and swallowed, my throat feeling as dry as those corn husks Evelyn filled with masa dough.

  August strode over to me and cranked my chin up. “You’ll be okay. I’ll be there.”

  I nodded, fumbling to remove my bag. When the strap caught in my hair, August assisted me in hoisting it up and off. Flustered by his proximity and nakedness, I backed away. My hands trembled as I dragged off my necklace and then my T-shirt, and then my navel pulsed chaotically when August’s eyes, which were on me, began to gleam brighter.

  He turned away, Adam’s apple working in his throat.

  A howl tore through the night, seemingly nearer. Was the pack headed here? I ducked behind one of the work desks, and, keeping my back to August, I unclipped my bra and pushed down my jeans.

  Claws clicked nearby, and it made my own claws jolt out of my cuticles. Making sure I wasn’t in August’s line of sight, I scraped off my underwear before my tail could shred it. My bones shifted and my muscles swelled, and I fell onto my knees, back arched as the rest of the change rippled through me.

  When it was done, August bumped his wet muzzle into my shoulder.

  Ready? he asked.

  I dipped my head in assent. At least I’d face Liam in fur tonight. I felt less vulnerable in fur than I felt in skin, as though my thick white pelt could somehow shield me better than my pale hide.

  Another howl stirred the air.

  We trotted to the door. With his mouth, August jerked the handle, then shoved the door ope
n with his shoulder. For a moment, I wondered how we would find the pack, but then I felt the tug of something in my chest. Like the tether that bound me to August, there was another tether inside me.

  One that tied me to Liam.

  One that led me straight to him.

  38

  In a part of the forest where the trees grew as dense as the underbrush, the pack had assembled. Most were in wolf form, but a few had stayed in skin—the few being the elders. The moon wouldn’t be full for another week, so I imagined they hadn’t been able to shift. And yet they’d still come. They wouldn’t understand what was being said, unless Liam spoke to them through the mind link.

  Could he, in wolf form?

  I saw Jeb, or rather I recognized the gray-blond fur, the light-blue eyes, and the lemony scent of his body. I walked over to him, squeezing my scrawny self between him and Frank’s grandson, who was as big as me in fur. Not in skin, though. I wondered why that was. But then I pressed that contemplation away.

  I felt Liam’s glowing amber eyes on me, but I kept mine trained on the squashed pine needles beneath his giant paws. His lupine body had grown in bulk and breadth since he’d become Alpha.

  A nose pressed against my haunches, shifting me a little more toward Jeb, and then another large body sidled in next to me, lining up between Little J and me. August.

  Liam’s gaze moved to my neighbor’s. For a moment, they just observed each other. Then August took another step forward, and his pelt bristled, ostensibly making him seem bigger. It was an illusion. He hadn’t actually grown, but he was sending Liam a message not to look at me.

  I nudged my friend’s flank to tell him I was okay. That he didn’t have to make such an aggressive show. God only knew how the others would interpret it.

  He didn’t back down, but his fur smoothed, and Liam pivoted to face another part of the circle.

  The Creek Alpha finally made contact, he said. She will be coming to Boulder with a delegation of Creeks tomorrow. She says she’s coming in peace and will be staying at the inn.

  Aidan Michaels is allowing that? someone asked, interrupting Liam.

  He probably doesn’t know they’re shifters, one of the men said.

  Aidan Michaels knows, Lucas growled out. He has fucking files on the entire werewolf community, but I guess he isn’t above taking money from our kind.

  I glanced at my uncle. His stare was unflinching, but I could hear his heart beating a little more strongly than the rest of the hearts around me. I rubbed his shoulder with my cheek in a show of affection and support. He turned his head and rested his own cheek against my forehead a moment.

  What do they want? August’s deep voice quieted the whisperings that had kindled like wildfire around us.

  To meet with the Alphas and their packs. She is convening us to a meeting at the inn tomorrow night at sundown, Liam answered. I want you all to be there.

  I peeked around the large brown wolf and met Liam’s hardened gaze.

  We need to present a united front, Liam said, and I swear I felt that comment was directed only at me.

  Will the Pines be there? someone asked.

  The Pines will be there, Liam answered.

  This is a trap. We shouldn’t go, someone barked.

  We caught the owner of the yellow Hummer—Everest’s murderer, Liam said.

  I stiffened and emitted a barely audible whimper.

  Liam shifted his gaze to my uncle, who stiffened next to me. And we’ve identified him as Morgan’s son. She knows we have him. That’s one of the reasons she’s coming. To retrieve him. Whether he lives or dies depends entirely on how she behaves.

  I nosed out from behind August. He might walk away with his life? He killed Everest. Is this becoming a thing? Murderers get to kill without retribution?

  He’s worth more to us alive than dead, Liam said. Besides, Everest was dead either way. Morgan’s son just spared me from exacting justice myself.

  Jeb’s strangled moan made goose bumps flourish beneath my fur.

  I’m sorry, Jeb, Liam said, I understand this is still not easy for you to hear.

  Whining, Jeb folded his ears and scrambled backward and away from the pack. I started to go after him when Liam called out my name.

  Ness, this meeting isn’t over.

  His voice held so much authority it had me lowering my head and turning around. It was as though my body and mind were two separate entities—where my mind wanted to go after my distraught uncle, my body obeyed my Alpha’s command.

  The Creek Alpha insisted that you come earlier with me.

  Me? Why?

  Apparently she’s heard a lot about you.

  I waited for snickers to erupt from the males whose gazes were all trained on me now. No one snickered.

  So be ready at seven, Liam said.

  Then he proceeded to give us orders about the night ahead, urging us not to ingest any drink or food offered at the inn in case they were doused with the missing Sillin.

  I thought we recovered it all, someone said.

  Almost all. But this doesn’t mean the Creeks don’t have their own stock, Liam barked.

  He doled out more precautions, but his voice faded into white noise as I pondered why Morgan, the great and feared Alpha of the Creeks, had asked to meet me beforehand.

  Was she looking for an ally in my pack?

  39

  I went in to work the next day with a mix of excitement and dread bubbling deep in the pit of my stomach. August exacerbated the dread part of my mood. His concern was so heavy that I asked him if I could leave early. Before I could drive away, he asked if I wanted him to come at seven too. When I turned down his offer—because I feared Morgan wouldn’t appreciate me bringing a bodyguard—his eyes darkened like the evergreens on a moonless night.

  I hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings and almost backpedaled, but he’d be there shortly after me. Besides, I wasn’t frightened. Well, not overly frightened.

  Especially after Sarah dropped by, chattering nonstop about the meeting. She swung three dresses onto my bed. Even though I insisted on wearing something of mine, she told me this was a soirée. A soirée apparently called for fancy attire.

  “I’m not looking to seduce any Creeks,” I muttered to Sarah as I reluctantly tried dress number two.

  “One of the first things Julian taught me was that the way you present yourself, the way you hold yourself, the way you speak affects the perception people will have of you. By walking in looking like a thousand dollars—I think that one was actually two—you’ll stand out, because everyone, be they wolf or human, has a vested interest in beauty and riches.”

  She fingered the black tulle of the midi skirt while I blanched. I’d never asked how much the red dress I’d worn to her brother’s wedding cost, nor the little white number that still hung in my closet.

  I smoothed down the stiff bustier top that shoved my breasts together. Considering mine were way smaller than Sarah’s, I asked, “Can you even fit into this thing?”

  “Nope. Internet order I was too lazy to return. It’s yours.”

  For a second, I pondered reselling it, but it would probably hurt Sarah’s feelings. Plus it was really nice and black, so probably easy to wear to other occasions.

  I finally turned away from the floor-length mirror glued to the back of my bedroom door. “You’re like a fairy godmother. Except instead of little wings and a gray bun, you have sharp claws that can shred a man’s throat, and a sharper attitude that can shred his ego.”

  She slashed through the air, manicured nails curving.

  My lips quirked into a smile that tumbled off when a car honked.

  Sarah lurched off the bed and peered out my window. “Liam’s here. Are you gonna be okay?”

  “Yeah,” I lied, going into my bathroom and fishing my mascara from the glass in which I kept my toothbrush and eyeliner. Even though my hands trembled, I managed to apply a thin coat of makeup to my lashes without incident. I left the rest of my face
bare. The dress was loud enough. I fluffed out my hair which had dried a bit wavy and fit my feet into my black heels.

  “Let’s pray tonight doesn’t turn into something out of a slasher film,” Sarah said, running her hand along her hair, which she’d had professionally flattened. It made her look like a different person—less wild and more refined.

  I gasped. “Why would you say that?”

  “I was just kidding.”

  “Well, it wasn’t funny,” I muttered.

  Sarah did something very un-Sarah-like. She gave me a hug. “She has no reason to murder us. She probably came to beg for her son’s life. And maybe offer us an alliance.” She squeezed me tight, her flowery perfume prickling my nostrils like rose thorns. “Or maybe she wants to marry you off to her son.”

  I pulled away. “What?”

  Sarah shrugged. “I was just speculating.”

  “Well don’t speculate about something so . . . so awful.”

  “You’re mated. Just use that excuse if she tries to marry you off.”

  As I wrenched my bedroom door open, I caught my reflection in the mirror. My face was as wraith-like as Isobel’s had been back at the hospital.

  Liam honked again.

  “Better go before he comes upstairs and hauls your ass into his big car.”

  My heartbeats snagged behind my compressed ribs. “I’m not ready,” I whispered, panicked.

  She strode up to me and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “I’ll come early.” When I still hadn’t moved, she said, “Everything’ll be fine.”

  Oh no, no, no. Why’d she have to say that? To use those exact words?

  Chilled to my bones, I finally walked out. Liam neither greeted me when I climbed into his car, nor did he spare me a passing glance. He wore his usual black V-neck and blue jeans but had added a black dinner jacket.

  “Am I overdressed? I let Sarah pick my clothes . . . ”

  His gaze didn’t budge from his windshield, but a nerve ticked in his jaw. “Are you fishing for a compliment?”

  “What? No! I was just asking if I should go change before we leave.”

  He pressed on the gas pedal, and the car lurched forward. I hurried to strap myself in.