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Wolf Leader (Wolves of Wisconsin Book 5)

Page 2

by Marie Fraser

But Steve’s ears had turned numb. And the world crashed at his sides, the air sucked out from his throat.

  For right across the court, bodies locked together, stood Mark and Agnus, mouth-to-mouth – kissing. Steve couldn’t believe the searing ache that split his heart. It shouldn’t matter, right? Steve knew they were together. Knew this was going to happen, sooner or later. Knew it from the fucking beginning.

  Then why in the world did it hurt so badly?

  * * * * * * * * *

  Luke Miller’s house was truly out of someone’s fantasy. As Steve stood outside, one hand in his pant pocket, his body leaning against his car window, he found himself in utter awe. The setting sun emancipated a rich orange shade that appeared to reflect off the pearly white building with such beauty, that it seemed to vastly enhance the grandeur of this majestic edifice. Luke’s father was a minister, and his residence clearly lived up to his famous reputation.

  Trellises of climbing roses in red and snowy white shade, spiraled around the building, neatly trimmed; the skill of the gardener was definitely hard to ignore. Wrought iron balconies curved out from the façade, and there were two large arched doors of bronze-colored wood, a gilt-shade metallic bell hanging beside it.

  Steve had a wild feeling that the night was going to be fun. He’d resolved to push the last day’s incident off his mind. He just needed a break from everything, wanted to relax, stretch his limbs, drink wine – and just have fun.

  The lanky trees skirting the compound were shrouded in darkness. Small, golden lights trailed the entrance, and as Steve walked along it towards the house, he could feel the beautifully strong smell of the roses, and lilies, and a million poppies that grew in the wide gardens beside him, on either side, drowse his senses.

  Steve strode inside, and was instantly met with loud music, glittering blots of colored lights, and the hum of laughter. He looked around, searching for his friends, but upon being unable to make out any familiar faces, he walked over to the counter, and asked for a drink. A goblet was thrust in his hand, and Steve brought it to his lips absently, the golden-rued champagne inducing a soothing energy in his stomach. He carried his gaze across the floor, and as the lights shifted, his eyes fell upon an exquisite form of beauty.

  Agnus Stone was the first woman that caught his eye that night. Steve grimaced deeply to himself. Yet the raw beauty that pulled at the air around her, her graceful and steady gait - the gentle bent of her head as she smiled at those around her, melted all foul feelings. His eyes trailed her around the room, unable to slide off her exquisite figure. Steve couldn’t even understand why he had been irked by her in the first place. As his gaze traveled the length of her extraordinary dress, Steve was in awe.

  In that lush blue formal ensemble, she looked like the night sky. The type of sky that locked gazes with you, drawing you in, hauling all air out. His eyes stopped at the pure shear lace at her chest, exposing a little too much of her bosom, and he sniggered to himself. He had a strange feeling that such an open exhibition was intentional. Yet still he remained rooted to the spot, his mind dazed. Steve looked around, and Mark was nowhere to be found. Steve knew he had lost his mind when his legs began to venture in her direction, pulling towards the very angel of beauty that had damned this night.

  Then his steps halted. No, no, no, he couldn’t do this to his friend. Best friend. He stepped back to the counter and slumped into a chair. A throbbing pain was gathering in his head. Steve raked a hand through his hair, one hand pressed to his temple. Dejected and miserable, he was about to leave the party, when a cold small hand rested on his shoulder.

  Steve craned his neck and stole a glance behind him. Agnus.

  “Hi, Steve,” she said, that melodious voice like needles to Steve’s heart, “I didn’t get the chance to congratulate you the other day. That was quite a match.”

  Steve returned his gaze back to the counter. Despite the complexities, they could still be friends, right? Steve didn’t need to act too awkward. Agnus was just another friend.

  “Thank you,” he said finally, smiling at her warmly, “it means a lot.”

  Beaming, she took a seat beside him.

  Steve gestured the waiter to get them some drinks.

  “So,” Agnus said, resting her hands on the counter, “you’ve been in North Wisconsin foe ever?”

  “From the very moment I opened my eyes, yes,” Steve said. “This place is very close to my heart, I’ve built some wonderful memories here.”

  Agnus’s gaze slid to a vacant spot. And Steve caught a trace of sadness pass her face, her eyes lost in living some distant moment. “I can understand,” she said, a while later, “I feel the same about Michigan. I miss my home. And I wish Dad hadn’t brought us here.”

  “But I thought your Dad had a posting?”

  “He requested for it.”

  “But why?”

  Agnus kept silent. And Steve hated himself for pressing her but before he could say anything, she said,

  “My Mom passed away when I was thirteen. Car accident. For years and years, Dad and I tried to cope up with the aching absence of her beautiful face, and her soft, mellow voice. But then Dad couldn’t stand it. And one day, he just cracked. It’s ironic isn’t it? For a mature adult to find it harder to deal with the ensuing depression then a teenager? But of course, I understood. I tried comforting him, and drawing him out of his dark corner. But despite all my efforts, he persisted, and then one day, he resolved to relocate. I tried talking it out with him because I had too many memories with Mom there, and I didn’t want to leave all of them behind. But then finally, I gave in to his miserable condition. And here we are.”

  Agnus just sat there, face blank and half in shadow. Steve looked at those beautiful eyes, reflecting a pure sense of sadness, and Steve felt his stomach contort in agony. He couldn’t bear the sight of her, so miserable and sad. Couldn’t bear to see that warm face lose its usual glow.

  “I miss her,” she said. Her voice was raw, and broken, and it pierced right through Steve’s heart. A tear rolled down her cheek. And, involuntarily, without a single thought, Steve brought his hand to her eyes, and wiped the tears away gently. She tilted her head, brow resting against Steve’s and sobbed on his shoulder. He stroked her hair lightly, taking her hand in his.

  “It’s alright, Agnus. You’re going to be fine, OK?”

  She withdrew her head from his shoulder and gazed deeply into his eyes. The world melted around beside Steve. “Agnus,” he whispered against the nape of her neck, and slowly she brought her lips to his. She brushed her mouth lightly across his, hesitant, and Steve ran his fingers through her hair, pulling her in, telling her she didn’t have to be. And before they knew it, they were kissing, tongues bound together, hands slamming against each other. And – for a breath of time – Steve’s mind was silenced. In that single moment, there was nothing to consider. Nothing to contend with.

  Until, a cold gasp stilled either of them.

  Steve stole a glance of Agnus’s face, and caught her eyes popped upon in shock – and fear. And that pure form of sadness still washed her eyes. All life had drained from her face, as she stared over his shoulder, pale and white. Steve felt his insides lurch. Slowly, he rotated his neck, and stole a glance over his shoulder.

  Lucy.

  “Steve?”

  Lucy face's was contorted in shock, her legs rooted to the spot. Steve wondered how long she'd been standing there. He sensed Agnus pull away to her own seat, and he gently withdrew her cold palms from his grip. Steve motioned towards Lucy, and she took a step back. Steve could hear the panic sirens raging in his mind. He only feared about the wild story she would carry back to their friends- carry back Mark. He had to somehow clear the matter, right then.

  “Lucy,” he began, his voice calm and soft, “at least hear me out, okay-"

  “Steve, you knew. You knew they were dating then why?’

  “This is not what it seems like, trust me. Agnus was upset because of something, and Mark
wasn't even there to comfort her. So, I was trying to calm her down.”

  “By -"

  “No, Lucy. Mark and Agnus are my good friends, and I don’t want to come in between them. I wish the both of them happiness and love.”

  Steve felt a pang in his heart at such hypocrisy.

  Lucy kept silent, her lips pursed and eyes looking away.

  “Hey, Lucy,” Steve said softly, directing her attention back towards him, “please don't let Mark know anything about this, okay? Agnus is already depressed, I don't want to add the ensuing drama to her toll of worries. Please, just please say yes.”

  Lucy nodded. Steve sighed, and shot her a relieving smile.

  Mark had joined the party now. He was sitting by the counter, attired in blue pants and white shirt, and hair disheveled. His tone was low and coy, and fingers running through Agnus's hair. The sight scorched Steve's heart. This was unbelievable and weird - he'd never been this much drawn to anybody. Didn't give so much as a care for anyone. But with Agnus – it was different.

  But why?

  A wild idea sped across his mind, and Steve gulped.

  Could it be? Could it be that Agnus was – his wolf mate?

  Chapter IV:

  Agnus:

  Agnus’s mind was throbbing. Around her, most people had already departed, the vacant dance floor shimmering blue in the dark. Her eyes traveled lazily across the room, a sharp pain pulsating at the back of her head. Mark was caught in a drunken stupor. He was slumped on a couch, eyes rolling in his head, and blabbering in gibberish.

  Groaning, Agnus staggered to the hallway and retrieved her coat. She knew leaving alone in her current, ill state, was perilous, but the idea of staying any longer in that place gave her the shivers. And so, wrapping her coat tightly around her, she stepped outside into the chilly cold.

  The roads were bare outside. Agnus would have had to walk a few long miles before catching sight of a cab. She gathered the dress at her feet, and trod ahead, head spinning and body bone-sick. With every fresh step, the task of breathing became more difficult. Yet, Agnus continued dragging herself forward. Until her body was stiff due to the cold, and legs limp. She grabbed her knees, panting, and fell face-forward on the grass.

  She was still within the boundaries of Luke’s enormous mansion. Beside her, a fountain was set in stone, and Agnus leaned her body beside it, the gushing sound of water soothing to her mind.

  The gnawing in her head had only grown sharper now, and Agnus drew her mobile out of her purse. She felt utterly helpless in this miserable condition. Hated herself for drinking too much. For depending upon Mark to take her home. She wanted to weep, and cry till her eyes lost all sense of sorrow, and her mind became numb. She wanted to go back to Michigan, where she could come home to melt within the warm arms of her mother; where her father was happy – where she could depend upon him to draw her out of tight spots.

  Right now, she felt utterly alone.

  It was such an agonizing feeling. Like you’re lost amidst a wide universe, and nobody to guide your way. Like you’re corralled in outer space, all darkness and cold.

  She didn’t even know what was doing and it was only when she’d dialed Steve’s number, and Steve’s voice echoed from some far off place, did she gather some vague understanding.

  “He-llo,” her teeth were chattering from the cold, and her breath came out in tiny puffs of air.

  “Agnus, are you alright?” Steve’s voice dripped with concern, his tone suspicious.

  An awkward silence stretched, mainly because Agnus didn’t really know from where to start, and how to put everything as less alarming as possible.

  “Steve, can you come pick me up? I – um – I want to get home but Mark’s too drunk to drive.” Agnus’s voice was quaking and Mark didn’t take long to notice that.

  “Where are you right now?”

  “At Luke’s place.”

  “Okay – just hang on a while, alright? I’m on my way.” An exhale of breath. “Also, I’m assuming you’re really cold. Stay in the house, it’ll be warmer than the lawns.”

  With that, he hung up. Agnus leaned her head back against the stone fountain, and sighed. It was impossible to move those stiff limbs back inside. Agnus sat there for long moments, mind in a daze, zoning in then out. She’d slip into intermittent periods of sleep, only to catch her eyes looking up to the cloudless sky. It looked beautiful as ever. A deep blue velvet sheet rolled in a bowl of pearls. Agnus felt an aching in her fingers to translate the lovely panorama on canvas, and was involuntarily reminded of the art gallery at her flat. Her art pieces decorating the apartment walls. Here, out in the cold Agnus felt a longing for the warmth and comfort that grappled her home. She wanted to get away from that abominable mansion as soon as she could. She just wanted to get back home…

  It was some long moments after that Agnus caught a faint honking sound echo her ears, and sense a warm presence rush to her side. She felt involuntarily pulled towards it. But her body had lost all strength and hardly registered the wild desire thumping in her chest. She strained open her eyes, against the crushing exhaustion, and felt her heart skip a beat.

  Deep blue eyes, ringed with compassion and a beauty so sharp that it sucked all air out of Agnus’s lungs. His light brown, spiky hair glistened dark golden under the starry sky. He was sitting just beside her, their bodies barely touching. Agnus could see the slender veins on his neck, crisscrossing like slim scars stretching across a wounded chest, and shining green and purple under the powerful light. She found her gaze locked at his face, his handsome face that only seemed inches away from hers. The beating in her heart now grew loud in her eyes.

  Agnus had a strange temptation to rub her fingers through those silky cascades, to tease that tense muscles and full mouth…

  Their gazes locked for a moment, and Agnus sensed a lightning jolt through her. The rush of fatigue that plagued her very bones, made her eye lids fall, and her limbs became still.

  “Agnus? Agnus, are you alright?” Steve’s gentle, but authoritative voice was like music to Agnus’s ears, a melody that set her heart on fire. “Talk to me,” he pressed. And Agnus’s body melted under the pure warmth in her arms, as he cradled her body, lean fingers curled under her neck and torso.

  A small part of her felt disgusted at being caught in such a helpless condition, of making such an immature exhibition of herself in front of Steve – but in that moment, nothing really mattered. She grew in to his arms, her head resting against his muscled chest.

  Soon, they were in the car, and Steve buckled her seat belt firmly. They sped into the night. Steve mostly maintained his silence. Agnus stole a glance of his radiant face, and caught a strange despair coral his features. She wanted to ask, but the pain pulsating in her mind had intensified, and she wanted anything but a wretched conversation right now.

  However, a few moments afterwards, Steve broke the ice,

  “I didn’t know you’d moved out from Mark’s house.”

  Agnus sighed.

  “It was Mark’s idea. ‘Cause at my own apartment, it was easier to you know…”

  Color rushed into her cheeks and she instantly looked away. What was she even saying? Agnus was horrified by herself.

  In an attempt to stop any further thoughts from entering Steve’s mind, she hastily added, “In fact, it’s not really my own apartment. It’s Dad’s place, but he’s mostly away on business trips.”

  Steve nodded his head absently, his mind somewhere else entirely.

  Finally, they pulled over at Agnus’s apartment. Steve parked the car while Agnus fumbled in her bag for the keys. She led them inside, and laying her coat aside, instantly slipped into bed.

  Steve, however, was still standing by the windows, staring at the paintings in absolute awe.

  “Did – did you paint them?” He asked, a second later.

  Agnus nodded sheepishly.

  “Holy cow.” He raked a hand through his hair, a signature gesture that followed hi
m everywhere.

  “They’re brilliant, Agnus. She should have some of your pieces displayed at the art exhibition-”

  “-oh they’ll never have mine.”

  “Are you kidding me? Of course, they will!”

  Agnus shrugged, pushing her head deeper within the sheets.

  “You should at least change, you know.”

  “No, can’t. I’m too tired.” She groaned.

  Unlike the usual awkward silence that sneaked into almost all of their conversations, this one lasted longer.

  “Well, I should get going. You need plenty of rest. Skip college tomorrow if you can.” Steve motioned towards the door, when Agnus’s muffled voice issued from within the sheets,

  “No, please, can’t you stay the night?”

  “Agnus, but-”

  “What if my condition deteriorates overnight?” She pressed, desperate to make some excuse to make him stay.

  Though realizing her selfishness, she added, “In fact, leave it. I’ll try to manage myself. You must be tired too. Thank you for everything, Steve. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

  “It’s alright. I’ll stay.” He sighed. “If you need me for anything, I’ll be in the living room, okay?”

  “Yes. Thank you. Good night.”

  “Night.”

  * * * * * * *

  The next morning Agnus woke up to find slender shafts of sunlight splayed across the face of her room. The curtains were pulled tight, to keep the room in darkness. Agnus’s eyes caught the time on the wall clock, and she sat at with a start.

  7:30.

  In thirty minutes, Agnus’s calculus class was meant to commence. Rushing out of bed, she sprinted into the washroom, and tidied up in haste. Her stomach was groaning out of hunger, but Agnus had no time to attend to its desires. She’d pick up something from the cafeteria.

  Dressed in a lapis lazuli sleeveless top, black shorts, and hair tied in a messy bun, Agnus headed into her living room. A small note was placed on the dining table.

  “Dear Agnus,

  I’m leaving for college. I decided not to wake you up since you were looking too pale. Take some rest. I’ll check on you in the evening.

 

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