Untamed Fate (Magic Side: Wolf Bound Book 2)

by Veronica Douglas

  “You look like hell,” Casey observed, as we drove through the Indies that

  evening.

  “Thanks. Between the nightmares and demon attacks and hunting down

  the asshole trying to kill me, I haven’t had a chance to do cucumber therapy

  on my eyes.”

  He turned right, into an old parking lot. “Hey, I get it. Seeing that thing

  last night messed me up. Your brain’s got to be scrambled eggs by now.

  What you need is a stiff drink, and then two or three more.”

  “What I need is a bed, some sleeping pills, and a night of dreams without

  evil creeps breaking into them.”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine,” Casey said almost convincingly. “First, we

  do my plan, and then you do yours. And since your bed has a circle of

  protection, you’ll be able to sleep off the hangover peacefully. The only

  dudes popping up in your dreams will be the ones you put there.”

  “I’m hoping for a total of none.”

  He glanced over at me with a cocky expression on his face. “None or just

  one?”

  Fucker.

  I ignored him and looked out the window. As gorgeous as Jaxson was, I

  did not want him in my dreams. I had enough on my plate as it was, and I

  didn’t need to be fantasizing over the domineering alpha-hole whom I

  couldn’t have even if I’d wanted him.

  The fading light reflected off the buildings across the lake as we pulled

  into the poorly maintained parking lot. It was packed with cars, and I could

  feel the bass of the music pumping through the trees in the park to our right.

  “What is this place, anyway?” I asked.

  “Founder’s Park. One of the most important places in the Indies.”

  I rolled up my window and stashed my bag under my seat. “Oh, yeah?

  Why’s that?”

  “There’s a bonfire every Saturday at sundown. Best place to unwind.” He

  winked and climbed out of the car. “And there’ll be enough sorcerers here to

  nuke Kahanov to kingdom come if he shows up, so you’ll be safe.” He

  grabbed a bag of ice and a bottle of Jose Cuervo black from the backseat and

  handed me two insulated Yeti Ramblers. “Hold these.”

  “You know these people?”

  “Some. There’s always a good crowd, all ages—just not teenagers, thank

  fates,” he added, grinning. “No one wants to deal with sloppy kids.”

  A black Beamer pulled into the lot, and a couple of girls who looked to be

  in their late twenties climbed out, holding a six pack of hard seltzer and a

  bottle of vodka. One of the girls shouted Casey’s name and waved.

  He glanced over his shoulder and gave her a thumbs-up but didn’t stop.

  “But yeah, pretty much anyone is welcome. Just not the wolves.”

  “Right.” A sinking pit of dread settled in my stomach. Kahanov had that

  damn grimoire and was trying to hijack my dreams. He might still be after

  my blood. Shit was dire, and despite my anger at Jaxson, my feelings for him

  muddled everything. Could I trust him?

  “You were with him today, weren’t you?” Casey asked, as if reading my

  mind.

  “I was.” I narrowed my eyes at my cousin, trying to detect any hint of

  judgement. But there was none.

  “A piece of advice, Cuz,” he continued. “Stay away from Jaxson. I know

  you’ve heard it before, and I’m not one to lecture you, but you can’t ever

  trust him or the pack. You’re not one of them, and they’ll never have your

  back.”

  “Believe me, I don’t trust them. I just don’t have many other options right

  now.”

  Casey veered off to the left. “Let me show you something.”

  We strolled down to a reed-lined pond and stopped by a cluster of large

  stones surrounded by little flowers. The central stone was longer than the rest

  and stood on end. Someone had carved hundreds of strange symbols and

  diagrams into its surface long ago. Casey ran his palm over the lines. “This is

  the founder’s stone—the seed that created this part of Magic Side.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “To make this part of the island, the LaSalles enchanted this stone with a

  powerful spell and floated it out into the lake on a raft. The magic spread

  through Lake Michigan and drew sediment and rubble up from the bottom to

  form an island. A small one, granted, but there weren’t Magica living here at

  the time.”

  I ran my fingers over the weathered rock, tracing the symbols, which had

  grown shallow and worn from the rain.

  “Those inscriptions on the stone were part of the spell. The ancient magic

  is spent, so technically, this is just an old rock. But our forebearers were

  sorcerers, and we work magic with our souls. That means the souls of our

  ancestors are in this rock. Remember that fact if you ever question whether

  you really belong in Magic Side. I know this city must seem crazy, but it’s

  part of you.”

  My heart ached at that thought. Of truly belonging somewhere.

  Casey slung his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his chest.

  “You have us, your family. We’ll always have your back. Tomorrow, we’ll

  sit down with Mom and bang our heads together until we figure out what to

  do about that prick, but now, it’s time to forget all that shit and drink, got it?”

  I nodded, pursing my lips to hold in the emotions that wanted to crawl

  out. I’d only known my cousin for a couple of weeks, and even though he

  was insane like the rest of the family, he seemed to genuinely care about me

  in his own twisted way.

  Up ahead, the noise from the party filled the air. Dozens of people

  crowded around several cars that had driven into the park. A Jeep with lifted

  wheels sat beside a pair of coolers and lawn chairs, its speakers thrumming

  ’90s R&B jams.

  But it was the flames curling from the huge bonfire in the center of the

  gathering that drew my eyes. They weren’t the normal orange, but instead

  cycled among a variety of colors—purple, blue, and green.

  “A magic bonfire?” Just as I muttered the words, a woman across the way

  pitched a glowing blue orb into the fire like it was a baseball. The flames

  arced at least ten feet into the air, and shouts erupted from the crowd.

  Casey shook his head as he put the ice in a cooler and pulled out a Coke.

  “Some of the sorcerers like to show off.”

  I raised a brow at him. “You don’t say?”

  Though I’d been suspicious that this gathering might be like the keggers

  I’d attended in high school, there were no keg stands, and the atmosphere was

  mellow. Most of the people here looked to be in their twenties or thirties.

  Casey took the Ramblers and mixed us some tequila cokes. “I keep

  forgetting that this is all new to you. I’ll introduce you to some friends.”

  An hour later, I’d met a handful of people whose names I couldn’t recall.

  The bottle of Jose Cuervo was nearly empty, and the pop in my cup was flat.

  Casey was chatting up some woman with pointy ears who genuinely seemed

  interested in his humor. Shaking my head, I gulped down the last of my drink

  and set the Rambler beside one of the coolers. Two women exited a stone

  building that looked like a bathroom and
stumbled toward the coolers,

  laughing.

  “Wolf bait. ” Behind me, a voice carried above the din of the music.

  I spun, meeting the gazes of two guys. “Excuse me?”

  Their eyes were glassy, and a cold darkness snaked around them. My skin

  crawled. Run, a voice deep in my mind said.

  The tallest of them stepped forward, staring at me like a piece of candy

  free for the taking. He was built like Casey but stockier, and his blond crew

  cut and cocky expression dredged up memories of the bullies from my high

  school days. “My friend here was telling me that you’re the alpha’s little

  whore.”

  His words cut through the air and drew bile in my throat. My nails

  tingled, and I balled my fists to keep calm. It took everything I had to fight

  the urge to kick the guy in the balls, and if this hadn’t been Casey’s crowd, I

  would have.

  The asshole stalked around me, poking and prodding with his eyes. “I

  told him no, that can’t be right. She’s a LaSalle.” He stopped in front of me,

  and his eyes narrowed, revealing the hate simmering inside them. “And

  LaSalles don’t mingle with wolves.”

  My heartbeat drummed against my ribs, and my senses heightened. The

  rustle of the leaves in the trees, the bead of sweat rolling down my spine, and

  the sour-rank stench of these bastards—a pungent mix of BO and cologne

  and whiskey that turned my stomach. My head spun. How much tequila had I

  drunk?

  The other guy scoffed and waved his hand through the air, his movement

  unbalanced, his gaze distant. “She’s no LaSalle, Jared. Let her chase

  Laurent’s tail. Maybe she likes it doggie style.” With a disgusting expression

  on his face, he pumped his hips in a thrusting motion.

  I ground my teeth so hard that my jaw felt like it might crack, and my

  sweaty palms stung.

  “What the hell is going on?” Casey shot forward and shoved the jerk in

  front of me. “Jared, get the fuck away from my cousin.”

  Jared stepped back and raised his arms in a non-combative gesture.

  “Easy, Case. Just getting to know the traitor in our midst.”

  Pure, unadulterated rage coursed through me, and my vision shifted. The

  sound of the music and the clamor of people talking were suddenly

  overwhelming, and my skin flushed. What was happening to me?

  Chest heaving, I glanced down at my hands, which were burning. I

  blinked twice and jerked back. Blood dripped from punctures in my palms,

  and where my nails should have been, there were claws.

  “Fuck,” I squeaked as fear snaked into my heart.

  Casey’s gaze snapped to me and then to the other guy. My cousin had

  Jared’s shirt in his fists, but he shoved him away. “What’s wrong? Did that

  other fucker touch you?”

  I hid my hands behind my back and shook my head, swallowing the panic

  in my throat. “Nope. I just need a minute. Alone.”

  Turning, I clutched my bloodied hands and jogged toward the bathroom,

  Casey’s voice carrying behind me.

  I slipped into the bathroom and locked the door. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  A beetle thwacked the lightbulb overhead, and I squinted, my eyes

  burning from the brightness. I took a breath and ambled toward the sink,

  bracing myself on the cool tile. My vision blurred before clearing. Trails of

  crimson blood streaked down the white porcelain sink, and my breath

  quickened as the pain in my jaw throbbed.

  Stay calm, Savy. There’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for this, I

  thought, though deep down, I knew better.

  I inhaled and looked up, meeting the eyes of my reflection in the mirror.

  A monster stared back at me.

  11

  Savannah

  “Oh, my God, no.” My heart rate and breathing skyrocketed as I braced

  myself against the sink and studied my reflection in the mirror.

  My eyes had gone amber. Auburn hair had sprouted along my forearms,

  and claws extended from my bloody fingertips, still aching from their release.

  This wasn’t PTSD or a trick of the mind. This was real.

  My heart hammered against my ribs, but I couldn’t move. The horror of

  the truth had rendered my body immobile.

  There was no pretending anymore. I was turning into a werewolf.

  I dug my clawed fingers into the side of the sink as I turned every

  scenario over in my head. How had this happened?

  Jaxson had told me that it was practically impossible to catch lycanthropy

  from a bite, and while I’d been scratched and clawed and knocked around by

  werewolves, I hadn’t ever been bitten.

  I closed my eyes, recalling the events of the past two weeks. The rogue

  wolves had hauled me off to an old sanitorium and drained my blood. They’d

  also injected me with something. I’d thought it was designed to repress my

  magic, but what if it was something worse?

  Had those bastards done this to me? Had they tried to turn a LaSalle into

  a werewolf?

  Fuck.

  Trembling, I leaned forward and bared my teeth in the mirror. They

  looked normal, despite the deep ache in my upper and lower jaw. I used my

  knuckle to push aside my lip so I could inspect my gums, and…fucking hell.

  They were swollen and red, and touching them made the pain worse.

  This isn’t happening, this isn’t happen—

  A jarring noise shook me from my thoughts, and I looked around wildly.

  The door handle rattled again as someone tried to get in. I covered my

  ears as they started pounding on the door. The sound was almost deafening.

  “This one’s taken,” I croaked, my throat suddenly drier than a bone. “Use

  the other!”

  I had to find a way to fight this.

  Agony exploded through my stomach, and I doubled forward, leaning my

  weight on the sink. Tears streamed from my eyes, mixing with the blood on

  the porcelain. I could smell the blood—just one of a hundred scents filtering

  through my mind, most of them revolting.

  I gasped as a sharp pain erupted through my jaw, and I looked up in

  horror. Blood ran from my lips. I’d sprouted fangs. Fuck!

  I had to get out of here, away from these people. If anyone at the party

  saw this, they’d crucify me. But where could I go? I had no one to turn to.

  Casey would never understand, and if Laurel found out, she’d kick me out or

  worse.

  Run.

  I could hide in the shadows. I just had to slip into the park without being

  noticed, then I could disappear into the woods and wait for this to pass. It

  would pass, right?

  Of course it would. I’d seen my eyes turn this color before.

  Having a plan gave me courage. Gut throbbing, I staggered over to the

  door and listened, but I could barely make sense of what I heard. My ears

  were drowning in noise. The light above buzzed incessantly, and the music

  sounded like someone had parked a loudspeaker right outside.

  Even with all that, I could still hear the conversations of people by the

  bonfire.

  The bathroom door beside mine opened and slammed with a

  reverberating thud as someone left. I could hear the soft padding of footsteps

  crossing the grass, though it was like the walker was stomping thro
ugh hay

  right next to my head.

  I shouldn’t be able to hear that.

  Gripping the handle, I unlocked the door and slipped outside and around

  the building. Casey was talking to some people, his back turned to me.

  Hopefully, he’d assume I’d left and wouldn’t come looking.

  I tried pulling the darkness around me, but my magic didn’t flow. Too

  much noise. Too much pain. I gasped and shuddered as a piercing ache shot

  through my shoulder blades.

  It was now or never. This wasn’t going to stop.

  I scrambled frantically for the deep shadows of the park, fear biting at my

  heels. My feet thundered over the ground, but when I looked back, no one

  had turned around.

  Another bout of sickening pain hit me, and my vision skewed. When I

  looked up, the shapes of the trees and the leaves on the ground were brighter

  and clearer than they should have been. I could make out details of things that

  should have been impossible to see at night.

  The scents of the forest were so overwhelming, I nearly gagged.

  Hundreds of plants and animals that I could barely identify. Traces of

  creatures and people that had passed by hours or days ago. The aroma of ripe

  berries and dead animals and rotting vegetation.

  Mind whirling, I pushed deeper into the woods with no idea of where I

  was headed, just that I had to get as far away from the bonfire and those

  people as possible.

  The moon peeked through the leaves above. I ran and ran, stumbling

  every time the agony returned. My skin felt raw, and even the lightest breeze

  was too much.

  This couldn’t be how Sam and Jaxson experienced the world, could it?

  They’d go mad.

  A wave of nausea hit me, and I doubled over and choked.

  Deep breaths, Savy. You’re a badass bitch, and you’ll get through this.

  Would I?

  Gasping, I pushed forward into the trees, but the chafing of my clothes

  against my skin became unbearable. I yanked off my shirt and shimmied out

  of my jeans, cursing as they rubbed like sandpaper. My breathing came in

  huffs, and tears streamed down my face. I slowed, too exhausted to continue.

  The buzzing of cicadas, the scurrying of an animal in the underbrush, and

  the creaking of branches—it was all deafening. I cupped my hands over my

  ears and craned my head upward, silently praying for this all to be a

  nightmare.