Wolf Moon (Wolf Ridge Book 1)

by Jayne Hawke

  Dad might have been right about my spoiling the firemen. I packed up the fourth big box of muffins and added them to the two smaller boxes of cookies and cupcakes. I’d experimented with a new red velvet recipe for the cupcakes and almost added millionaire’s shortbread to the large supply of baked goods. Looking at everything they had, I decided I’d made the right decision on holding back. It was getting a bit ridiculous.

  Alastair must have heard my car approaching. The tall fireman with a thick head of pitch-black hair was leaning against the doorway watching me with a grin as I pulled up into my usual parking space. He approached my car and opened my door when I’d parked.

  “We’ve missed you,” he said with a slight Southern lilt.

  Alastair was one of the good guys. Dad had spent a good year trying to set us up as we were only a year apart in age. There was just wasn’t that spark, though.

  “You mean you’ve missed my baking.”

  His smile broadened before he laughed.

  “Well, you might have me there.”

  He helped me carry the boxes inside.

  “Everything ok? You don’t normally bake this much unless you’re worrying over something.”

  I gave what was supposed to be a nonchalant shrug.

  He stopped dead and turned to face me at the bottom of the stairs. Alastair’s muscular 6’3 frame meant there was no escaping or walking around him. His gentle dark blue eyes bored into mine and I broke.

  “Jake and I had an argument.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. You guys seemed like you were end game.”

  I snorted.

  “We’re not together.”

  Nor would we ever be, it seemed.

  “My mistake.”

  We continued up the stairs into the common area where the on-duty firemen were all hanging out. Conversation stopped, and everyone turned to face me with grins when we walked in.

  “Now, what have you brought us today?”

  “Cookies, cupcakes, and muffins.”

  I handed the boxes over to Hank, an older guy with silver around his temples.

  “Are these red velvet? They look amazing,” Alison asked as she picked up a cupcake.

  “Sure are.”

  Dad appeared soon after and was handed the box of cranberry and macadamia cookies, his favourite. No one dared eat one of his cookies.

  He took me to one side and gave me the type of hug only dads can give. He wrapped his strong arms around me and made the world disappear while I was enveloped in a blanket of warmth and comfort.

  “What’s wrong, Rosalyn?”

  “Had a fight with Jake.”

  Deep creases formed around his eyes and at the corners of his mouth.

  “Bad?”

  “Kind of. He stormed off, and I have no idea when he’ll be back. I don’t know what’s gotten into him this week.”

  I fought to hold back a growl of frustration.

  He gave me a gentle smile.

  “I’m sure it’s just girl trouble. It’ll pass.”

  I wasn’t so convinced. The timing of it with my turning was too convenient. I’d hoped that our friendship was stronger than that, but it looked as though I was wrong.

  “Is that all that’s bugging you?”

  No, I was a garou now, and had to find a rogue. My life would never be the same, oh, and I wasn’t going to be a star baker any more.

  “I got fired from the bakery,” I said with a shrug.

  “Why? You were doing amazingly. Blair clearly just doesn’t recognise your talent.”

  Dad’s faith in me had never wavered. My heart swelled with pride and happiness at his words and the pride that shone from him.

  “I screwed up. I kept being late because the Mustang wouldn’t start.”

  “I told you I’d loan you money to fix it up.”

  I shook my head.

  “I need to stand on my own two feet.”

  He nodded in understanding.

  “You’re so much like your mother,” he said softly.

  I couldn’t think of a bigger compliment he could have given me.

  24

  Dad led me into his small office and closed to the door behind us.

  “Tell me everything.”

  I sighed and crossed my arms, trying to get it all straight in my head.

  “I screwed up at the bakery. Blair was right. I kept being late, and I screwed up most of my bakes that morning. She’d clearly been fed up with me, given she had a replacement lined up.”

  The fact that Keira had been the reason for my screwing up the bakes only irritated me. Blair must have known. She’d seen Keira doing it, and yet she still chose to act as though I was a failure. Biting down my anger, I pushed my wolf side back. It was for the best.

  Dad’s mouth pursed, but he said nothing.

  “And I don’t know what happened with Jake. He’d been weird for a few days. I have no idea how to deal with it all.”

  He put his hands on my upper arms. His eyes were soft, but he had the expression that said some hard truths were coming my way.

  “I love you, Rosalyn. You’re my little fox kit. You’ll be back on your feet in no time. Don’t forget Alastair’s single, he’s a good guy.”

  I laughed. Of course he’d taken the opportunity to try and set me up with Alastair.

  Taking a deep breath, I resolved to use this new start as a garou to really start living.

  25

  I was actually relieved when Cole stopped by the apartment the next morning and declared it was time to become his shadow. He kept glancing at me on the drive over to his place with a small frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. Thankfully, he didn’t ask. I really wasn’t in the mood to try and explain what was going on in my head.

  Jake still hadn’t been in touch, and that wasn’t like him at all. It was giving me more time to get my head straight and really think through everything, though. It hadn’t given me the focus to figure out what exactly the shadow thing meant, though. Normally I would have asked Jake or looked around the Grim, but Jake wasn’t talking to me and the Grim was a nightmare.

  “It’s a blood bond.”

  I looked at Cole with confusion as I realised we were parked outside of his house. He must have been talking, but I’d been lost in my own head.

  “A blood bond?”

  He sighed in frustration and got out of the car.

  “Making you my shadow. The bond between us will be a blood bond.”

  That meant it would be unbreakable until the agreed-upon end date. A snarl started to form, but I pushed it aside. Being bound to a strong alpha with connections to the council wasn’t a bad idea. I was a turned garou; that would give me some protection. Fifty years sounded like a long time, but garou lived for two or more centuries. It wasn’t that bad in the grand scheme of things.

  “Ok.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me, and his mouth pinched.

  “Ok?”

  “Yea. I get it. Are we doing this or not?”

  I had no choice, so I saw no reason in hanging around. The council was watching me very closely and turned had no place in the supernatural world. That bond would give me security and time to get my feet under me.

  He continued to look at me, waiting for me to say or do something else. I stood stock still and held his gaze until he finally exhaled and headed around the back of the house. The yard was tidy, if a little wild. He stood beneath one of the broader old trees on the edge of the space and turned to face me.

  “Hold your wrist out.”

  He pulled a small knife from his pocket, and I held my wrist out. Cole watched my face as he gently held my wrist and cut a weird symbol into it. There was no pain. I’d half-expected some cool magic feeling, fizzing maybe, but there was nothing. Just a slight coolness where the blade bit into my skin. The symbol was a circle with a straight line parallel to the heel of my hand bisecting the bottom third, and three smaller circles in a little arc above it. Every cut was precise, an
d the circles were exact. I wondered if he’d done this before, if it was something that born garou were taught when they were growing up.

  He whispered in a language I didn’t recognise as he cut. Was that something else I was going to learn? Was there some secret garou language I’d never heard about? I realised how little I knew about my new life and place in the world.

  My blood barely welled up before the skin healed in neat silver lines. The entire thing took barely a minute. It felt as though something as serious as a blood bond should have taken a lot longer. There should have been gravitas and drama.

  Cole didn’t look at me before he carved the same symbol into his own wrist, whispering those same words. I felt something click when he finished his symbol. It was as though there was a thin string hanging between my sternum and his. He smiled and relaxed.

  “Now you’re officially my shadow.”

  I ran my fingertips over the symbol carved into my wrist. The lines were a pale silvery white. I was marked, we were tied together, and there was no getting out of it. Doubt began creeping into my mind. I pushed it aside and reminded myself that it was a bad idea to be a lone garou, let alone a lone turned. This gave me the protection I needed to build a life for myself.

  “Remind me what exactly that means.”

  He snorted.

  “It means you’re my protege. Do you have anything... smarter?”

  He gestured at my yoga pants and over-sized t-shirt. I hadn’t been in the mood to dress nicely for him that morning.

  “Why?”

  “I’m taking you to be fitted for your ballgown.”

  Of course I’d forgotten about the ball. I didn’t feel like I had time to be dressing up in a gown when there was a rogue on the loose. Cole’s expression showed there was no room for argument there.

  “Yea, I can put on some jeans.”

  Wrinkles formed along the bridge of Cole’s nose, and I rolled my eyes.

  “Fine. I have a dress.”

  He nodded and pointed in the direction of the driveway.

  “I’ll get you lunch while we’re there.”

  “And where is ‘there’ exactly? How long will this take? I do have a life, you know.”

  He snorted again, and I glared at him. I didn’t have a life, and we both knew it. That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to pretend like I did, though.

  26

  The journey out to Burlington didn’t take as long as I had expected. Cole had pretty good taste in music, mostly classic rock with a healthy dose of modern rock thrown in. He’d tried to convince me to spend the night with him so he could take me to Montreal. I insisted that Burlington was plenty far enough away. Shadow or not, Cole was still a stranger and an alpha that could kick my ass.

  Cole had a seamstress waiting for us in the nice part of Burlington. He parked in the lone space in front of the classy building with wide glass windows showcasing extravagant gowns. The swaths of silk made me cringe. I couldn’t afford to look at those dresses, let alone try and buy one.

  The interior of the shop was simple with lots of white and dresses up on pedestals. Cole ignored all of it and walked straight to the plain black door at the back. He didn’t even knock, he just walked straight through, leaving me to follow him. The back room felt like I’d stepped into a completely different building. Rolls of fabric were stacked up on long shelves that filled the wall to my right. Large sturdy wooden tables sat along the wall to my left, and a trio of mannequins were sitting with patterns on them in the furthest corner.

  Cole walked over to a tall slender woman with her hair tied up into a scruffy bun. She was frowning at a notepad, neon yellow headphones on. Cole gently squeezed her shoulder, and she looked up at him in alarm. Her expression immediately softened when she saw Cole, who stepped back to give her some room. The woman took her headphones off and turned to look at me. Her gaze travelled up and down my body. I felt as though she saw through me. Her lips pursed and she tapped the tip of her pencil against her bottom lip while she continued to look me over.

  “She’s a little short. She’ll need some good shoes. We can make it work.”

  I glared at her. I was 5’4. Ok, so I wasn’t some Amazonian model, but I was hardly stunted.

  Cole rolled his eyes at me.

  “You know my preferences. This is for the shadow ball, so we need classy, elegant, and expensive,” Cole said, crossing his arms.

  The woman nodded and walked over to me with a tape measure.

  “I think a nice forest green would work best, with a fuller skirt, and a modest neckline,” Cole said.

  “No. I don’t wear green.”

  Cole scowled at me. Just because he was paying for this didn’t mean he was going to dress me up like some doll. I was not his toy.

  “I’m Leona.” The woman held her hand out for me to shake.

  “Rosalyn,” I said shaking her hand.

  “You’re going to have to strip,” Leona said, ushering me onto the small pedestal in the centre of the room.

  I narrowed my eyes at Cole, who just smirked at me. After a long moment of Cole and I staring each other down, Leona began tapping her foot.

  I held Cole’s eye as I stripped out of my dress and was incredibly glad I’d chosen to wear my pretty white and pale pink underwear. It even matched.

  To Cole’s credit, his eyes never dropped below my lips as Leona took every conceivable measurement. It felt as though she’d have been able to make a whole version of me from scratch by the time she was done. I was glad to get my dress back on.

  “So, Rosalyn, what would you like in a dress?”

  I chewed on my bottom lip. I’d never worn a gown before. I had no idea what the conventions and such were.

  “Well, something simple. No big skirt to trip over.”

  Leona made a note in her notebook.

  I looked around the room for inspiration. A pretty, pale blue-grey fabric with a soft shimmer caught my eye. I strode over to it.

  “And this fabric.”

  Leona pulled the long roll of fabric out and held it up against my skin.

  “This will bring out your eyes. Give me five minutes.”

  She looked me up and down again before she sat down and began sketching. Cole went over to her and pointed at the page a few times, having her alter things. I resisted the urge to say something and instead wandered around looking at the array of fabrics. Leona had silk in every shade under the sun. There were so many textures to be explored. I noted there weren’t very many prints. I supposed that prints weren’t really worn to these high-society events.

  “Rosalyn,” Cole said.

  I walked over to see the sketches Leona had produced. They showed a simple floor-length dress with a semi-low-cut neckline and a high back. The skirt was in what I think they called an empire line, which I didn’t really like. I had natural curves, and that looked as though it would make those look weird.

  “Can we make it a more natural line, higher straight neckline, and lower back?”

  I ignored the scowl on Cole’s face. It might as well have been tattooed on, given how frequently he wore it.

  Leona whipped up fresh sketches that looked far more to my taste. The dress now hung more naturally over the silhouette’s shape and looked as though there was room for the skirt to have a little movement.

  Cole opened his mouth to change something, but I narrowed my eyes at him and almost growled. He glared at me but said nothing.

  “Rosalyn will need suitable shoes,” Leona said pointedly to Cole.

  “We’re going shoe and accessory shopping next.”

  Leona handed Cole a swatch of the fabric and a scrap of paper with a number on it. Cole’s jaw tightened, but he handed her one of his many cards. I never saw the number, and I didn’t want to. The dress likely cost more than I was worth.

  I felt like Bambi as I tried to walk in the ridiculously high pumps Cole had handed me. To my embarrassment, Cole reached out and caught me when I almost toppled over. He helped me
steady myself and gently held onto my arm as I tried again.

  “Think of it as walking in your wolf form,” he whispered in my ear.

  I frowned for a moment as I wondered what on Earth he was talking about. Then the image of a wolf leg formed in my mind and I saw the way the joints formed. Once I had that in mind, I felt my balance shift, and walking in the heels came far more easily. It still took me another ten minutes of tentative steps before I really got the hang of it, but I swore I saw a flicker of pride on Cole’s face when I did.

  We sat down on an expensive leather bench with the pair of heels Cole had chosen for me. A pair of simple silvery satin pumps. I’d been quietly lusting after a pretty pair of strappy black sandals, but I hadn’t dared look at the price tag. I knew they were over a hundred bucks, and I was strictly a bargain bin girl.

  The satin pumps weren’t bad - they just weren’t at all me. The black sandals made me feel pretty and feminine. The pumps were too uptight, and the satin looked really impractical. If I so much as looked at dirt, they were going to be ruined.

  My phone buzzed with a phone call.

  “Go. I’ll buy everything,” Cole growled.

  Given he was paying, I decided not to continue arguing and looked at who was ringing. I’d turned the phone onto vibrate, so I didn’t have the usual tell-tale ringtones. Of course, I was hoping it was Jake finally returning from whoever’s bed he’d been hiding in. I stepped outside into the bright sunlight and looked at the phone screen. Valentin, not Jake.

  A warmth spread through me as lust bubbled up when I accepted the call. I pushed the lust aside, knowing it was just my wolf side being a pain in my ass.

  “Hey, what’s up?”

  “I was just wondering if you had any plans this evening.”

  Butterflies formed in my stomach. That sounded a little bit like a date. Was that something I could risk? It might not be a ridiculous idea if we kept it to public places, somewhere I could learn from him without getting a knife to the throat.