by SF Benson
As if I summoned him, my phone lights up with Brady’s name. Honestly, I’m not in a frame of mind to speak to him. I need to clear my head. Move past my anger and hurt first. Ignoring Brady, however, isn’t the wisest decision. After all, this isn’t a situation I can run from.
Reluctantly, I accept the call, not hiding my displeasure. “Yeah.”
“Whoa. Sugar, what’s wrong?”
Just hearing Brady’s voice makes me more angry. Will he call Amber sugar? “Tell me what’s right.”
Suddenly the car veers onto the wrong side of the street. Brakes squeal. Horns blare. Staying calm, I grip the wheel tightly and keep the Jeep from crashing into a pole or worse.
“Audra!” Brady shouts. “What the hell’s going on?”
“I’m fine. What did you want?”
My wolf claws at the surface, wanting to destroy all in her path. I should let her out, but that’s a dumb move too. I know what she’ll do. She won’t stop running until she gets to New Orleans. She won’t stop moving until she’s ripped out Amber’s throat. My wolf won’t stop until a Broussard returns the favor, and Greg is making my funeral arrangements. Unfortunately, my wolf is as reckless as I am stubborn.
Brady breathes into the phone. “We need to talk. Are you at the bar?”
His voice lacks power—its usual conviction. It’s strained.
“No. I’m on my way to you. Are you still at your parents’?”
“No. I just pulled up at the house.” He turns off the music—something by Farruko—playing in the background. Brady only listens to Farruko when he’s troubled. “Can you come home instead?”
“Be there in ten minutes.” I disconnect and continue up Main Street, heading toward the hills overlooking Falls Creek. Too bad my heart doesn’t want to make the trip.
Brady’s black Mustang sits in the circular driveway when I pull up. Driven by fury, I got home in record time. Thankfully, the Falls Creek police know my red Jeep. If they see me tearing through the streets, they usually keep a wide berth—definitely a benefit of living in a small town. They only step in if it looks like I’m going to injure someone. The police chief once asked me if I wanted to join the force so that I had a legal reason for speeding. Maybe if I had, my life would be more normal.
But there’s nothing normal about two alphas in a relationship. Normal can’t possibly explain why my love, my heart and soul, would betray me and agree to marry my enemy.
Calm down.
How? If what Greg told me is true, Brady is either playing me or about to betray me. Neither bodes well for him. We don’t play games. Flaunting Amber Broussard in front of me would be an attempt to manipulate me.
Brady would never do that.
Unfortunately, males revert to dumb-ass behavior when they’re desperate. If Brady wants to maintain his status, he’ll pull Neanderthal tricks to get what he wants. All males, regardless of species, do that type of shit, especially Romero males. Can’t trust any of them.
You don’t really believe that. Brady has always been different.
I slam the car door and practically run toward the house. Brady meets me before I put my key in the lock.
“That was quick.” He holds the door open for me. Usually, he greets me with a wide smile and a hug. Neither of them are present at the moment.
“You made it sound important.”
Brady’s mouth twists grimly. “It is.”
Pushing past him, I go straight to the kitchen. If he’s about to shatter my world, I need a little fortification. Opening the fridge, I find the remains of a cheesecake I brought home earlier in the week.
“Don’t.” Brady covers my hand and prevents me from pulling out the treat. “If anyone should be stress eating, it should be me.”
My gaze rocks to him. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Sugar, we’ve got a situation. There’s three ways we can handle it. Only one of them is good for everyone.”
“You’re scaring me.” And I don’t scare easily. I draw in a deep breath before closing the fridge, leaving the sweet morsel behind. “Tell me if it’s true. Does your pack want to depose you?”
Brady’s eyebrows squeeze together. “Yes… Who told you?”
“Greg.” I step away from Brady and take a seat at the farmhouse table made from a tree that grew on the Romero property. My fingers trace our carved initials surrounded by a heart. When the tree was cut down, Brady had it made into the table. Our table. The things we’ve done on the surface. None of it matters, however, if he’s about to destroy my world. “What about Amber Broussard? Is that true too?”
“Yes and no.”
Anger swells inside me, replacing the fear. I forget about my ripped-up hand and dig my nails into my palm. The pain keeps me focused. “Which is it, Brady? It can’t be both.”
His eyes go to the blood pooling on the floor. Brady grabs a dish towel from the counter and crouches in front of me. He wraps the cloth around my palm and presses hard. “What did you do?”
“Never mind,” I snap. “Answer my question.”
Brady gently caresses my knee with his free hand. “You need to hear all of it, sugar. Not just some hearsay from your brother.”
Ignoring the searing pain beneath the towel, I mumble, “I’m listening.”
“Someone in the pack is stirring up trouble.” Brady stands. “They’re trying to enact the old rule—alphas should be bonded and married.”
I press harder on the makeshift tourniquet as my blood pressure climbs. “Where does Amber fit into this?”
“She doesn’t. I have a week to fix this.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “Sugar, I don’t want anyone else but you. Ideally, you and I marry. We perform the bonding ceremony, and my pack shuts up.”
My blood boils hotter. I feel like the prey stuck up a tree—disaster waits if I climb down, and starvation is certain if I stay put. No real options for me. “If we don’t…”
Brady locks eyes with me. “If we don’t, my mother makes a phone call, and I have to marry Amber.”
He slumps against the counter while his arms hang by his side. Brady doesn’t want to do this. I’m certain of it. Surely there has to be another way.
I glance down at the blood-soaked cloth. It’s too obvious my brother had no idea about the depth of my wound. That shouldn’t surprise me though. Healing will either come from changing or a trip to the emergency room. “You said there were three ways.”
“The second way requires we forget each other. Go our separate ways forever.”
“No.” Shaking my head, I affirm, “We don’t want that. What’s the other way?”
Brady’s voice goes flat. “You won’t like it either. We’ve talked about it.”
He’s right. It’s the one option we agreed a long time ago wasn’t for us. We swore neither of us would ask the other to do it. It’s a choice that means leaving our families and friends. We’d have to abandon our hometown and all we hold dear. Wolves only become outcasts when they’re forced. Yes, we’re in a difficult situation, but it can’t be that desperate.
Really it isn’t. You’re just being stubborn.
No. I’m doing what’s needed for the pack. It won’t survive without me. Greg’s not ready and neither is my beta. Both wolves need at least a year to train. I doubt if my brother even knows the first thing about pack politics.
Keep telling yourself that one, and you’ll be alone with just the pack. What happens when someone challenges your authority?
It won’t happen. Not with my pack. Regardless, I won’t ask Brady to leave his family and pack for me. “Brady, I’m not asking—”
“You’re not asking, but I refuse to lose you.” He lifts his eyes to mine as his forehead wrinkles. “Make this easier on all of us, Audra. I can’t live without you.”
I rise to my feet. “And I can’t live with someone dictating how I should live. You know that, Brady.”
His fist hits the front of the sink. “What do you want? Would you prefer me marrying Ambe
r? You know I’ll never cheat. We…” Brady’s finger wags in the air between us. “We’ll be finished. Is that what you want?”
“Time is what I want.” I walk toward the door.
“Where are you going?” he growls.
“Some place I can think.”
Thankfully, Brady and I chose a house in the hills. We planned on tearing down the modest building and remodeling it to fit our needs. For now, the woods behind it serves me well. Moving through the copse of trees at the perimeter of our backyard, I remove my sweater and unzip my jeans. Brady did us a favor and placed a small wooden box behind the trees just for this purpose. I tuck my clothing and then my shoes inside.
Nausea hits me as I summon my wolf. Dropping to my knees, pain takes over as bones snap and ligaments stretch. Brown fur sprouts out over my hands while my claws take purchase in the rich soil beneath me. My thoughts untangle, and I trot off deeper into the forest.
An hour later, I enter the back door of the house. It’s quiet, but I know Brady’s not far away. Most likely he’s upstairs. I’m ravenous.
“You’re home.” His voice sounds behind me.
“Yeah. I’m starving.”
Brady pads across the kitchen floor, barefoot and only wearing a pair of pajama bottoms. “Let me fix you something. I took out a steak for you. Want anything else?”
“Just you,” I say softly.
He opens the fridge and takes out a seasoned steak. “You said you needed to think.”
“I did.”
“And?” Brady places a skillet on the burner. “Did you come up with a solution?”
“No. You said we have a week.”
A slight grimace sneaks past Brady’s lips.
“Brady, what are you keeping from me?” I lean against the counter. Close enough to touch him, but I keep my hands to myself. One, I need a shower, and two, if he’s keeping something from me, I don’t want him to think I’ll give in easily.
Now there’s a laugh. You’ve never done anything easy.
He drops the steak into the skillet and faces me. “Promise me you won’t get mad.”
“Just tell me. I’m not making any promises.”
“Technically, we have a month before anything changes. Mom wants the problem solved in a week. She wants to meet with you.”
Folding my arms over my chest, I ask, “What the hell for?”
“She thinks she can convince you to go through with the ceremony.”
If my hand hadn’t healed, I would have torn it open digging my nails into it. How dare Brenna think she can control me? “What else?”
Brady’s gaze goes to the floor. “I saw my lawyer today. He said that whoever is challenging me has to file a claim with Council. It hasn’t happened yet.”
I drop my head back and stare at the ceiling. Blowing air through my cheeks, I say, “Let me get this straight. The challenge to your leadership isn’t even valid? Your mother, not you, is the one pushing for me to say yes right away?”
“Yeah.”
Stepping forward, I push my finger into Brady’s muscular chest. “Tell your mother I’ll meet with her when Ashmedai moves to Falls Creek. In the meantime, don’t even mention this fucking ceremony to me again unless someone has gone to Council about it. Understood?”
Brady grasps my finger. “Sugar, it’s not going away. I’m tired of shacking up with you. I want something more than this.”
“I can always move back in with my brother,” I shoot back. “Problem solved.”
Brady turns back to the stove and flips my steak. “Not for me.”
“I’m done talking about it. I want to shower, eat, and get ready to head to the bar.”
Leaving Brady in the kitchen, I head for the stairs. I lied. All I want is to be held in his strong arms. Forever.
Falling in love with a she-wolf as headstrong as Audra will ultimately lead to my death. My wolf wanted to hold her tight, preferably naked beneath the sheets. Her wolf, however, had other plans. Instead of spending time with me, she downed her meal and took off for the bar, claiming to have inventory to do before opening. With great effort, I let her go. Something I might have to do on a permanent basis if this shit between the Romeros and the Ryders blows up.
Making choices while disregarding my own needs is the life of an alpha. It’s something I do each day. No big deal, right?
Wrong.
Sure, I could walk away and let someone else lead. But that someone would be Brian, and he’s not ready. Walking away would also mean giving up the Council seat which can’t happen. To be honest, I don’t know how to proceed. Maybe I could just wing it? Let things happen organically.
Yeah, right.
My phone rings again. For the past hour, Mom’s been blowing it up, undoubtedly looking for an update on what’s happening with Audra. Absolutely nothing. But I can’t tell my mother that. She’ll kick my ass from one end of town to the other. She might even be able to get a few pack members to help her. My mother is a former alpha’s wife. No one disrespects her.
Meanwhile, Audra’s claws are primed, ready to rip my ass to shreds if I even mention the ceremony again. I know she loves me. She’s just scared of losing anything else in her life. Passing leadership on to someone else, before she’s ready, ranks in the loss category.
I’m caught between two strong women. Both of them have my undying respect and love, but I don’t know what to do. If I please my mother, I piss off Audra. And if I keep my mate happy? Nobody’s going to like the outcome, least of all me.
What do you want to do?
The only question with an easy answer for me. All I’ve ever wanted was a life with Audra. Much like Brian, I didn’t ask to be alpha. Family first, pack second, and personal needs last. It’s the Romero way. Nothing will ever change that.
You could change that.
No way in hell am I messing with tradition. I happen to like where my balls rest.
It’s why I’m setting foot on Elsbeth’s property, risking my life and following Archer’s advice. Mom claimed she couldn’t contact the Red Witch, so I’m being a good son and handling the matter myself. Only time will tell if this is a foolhardy endeavor—story of my life.
Palpable evil lives on her parcel of land. The sinister spirits don’t inhabit any other spot in Falls Creek. History claims Elsbeth summoned them to the island. For what purpose? No one who’s ever asked has lived to tell it.
Supernaturals in America owe their existence to Elsbeth—she created or called forth most of them. My family is the exception, making us like supernatural royalty—the actual title goes to The Najex and his offspring. The first Romero came to these shores from Spain and chose to settle in Falls Creek, allying with the witch. It’s been a profitable, symbiotic relationship. Elsbeth protects us from human predators outside of town, and we help whenever she requires it. Because of that, I don’t fear Elsbeth, but I do respect her. Evidence of her ancient energy charges the air. The wards surrounding the island snap like volts of electricity around my head.
“Wolf.” Her raspy voice hits me before I notice the Red Witch. “Why are you here uninvited?”
My mistake for failing to give Elsbeth the customary twenty-four-hour notice and waiting for permission. For once, I’m claiming rank. Romero alphas don’t wait for anyone or anything. This matter, unfortunately, can’t wait. My father is suffering and needed help yesterday.
Killing the motor and climbing down from Dad’s bay boat, pebbles skitter beneath my feet. Water seeps over the top of my boots, ruining my favorite pair of Dingos. I make a mental note to replace them tomorrow while securing the vessel to the dock.
The stench of rotting flesh mixes with the wind ruffling my hair. I do my best not to inhale the foulness. Lore has it that one whiff is enough to condemn your soul to the bowels of Hell. A subtle low wail, reminding me of a wolf in agony, carries on the breeze. The sound, a backdrop to the squelching my water-soaked socks make inside my shoes, wakes up my wolf.
I stop a few feet a
way from the Red Witch. She stands like a venerable statue in her familiar tattered and dusty black dress. Spiders appear in the churning debris between the ground and the edge of her attire.
Standing tall, I say, “The Romeros have need of your services.”
She comes closer and her voice, like a rusty wrought-iron gate in need of oil, grates. “My help comes with a price. What are you offering?”
“I’m not in the market for bargaining.” Feigning the confidence I left at my parents’ house, I cross my arms over my chest and widen my stance. “Name what you want, Elsbeth, and be done with it.”
A slight smile, hard to detect on her heavily lined face, threatens to crack the filthy flesh. She lifts her chin, raises her hand, and her decrepit appearance transforms. The humped back straightens. Curves return and breasts lift. Wrinkles rescind, and her skin smooths out. Gray hairs erase. An attractive woman with shiny crimson hair, like an intense flame, hanging down her back stands before me.
Elsbeth lifts an eyebrow and sashays closer. “Alpha, when I need your help, you’ll give it. Agreed?”
An open-ended request. My father warned me about the perils of doing business with Elsbeth—never agree to anything unless you’re willing to live with the consequences. Ordinarily, I’d turn her down and walk away, but the matter with Dad requires her touch.
“Granted.” I point toward the black log cabin. “Care to talk here or inside?”
Elsbeth pivots on her heel and walks toward the structure. All matter of vermin travel in and out of the holes over the surface while vultures roost on the sloped, crumbling roof, and snakes slither across the warped porch. The spiders, her constant companions, follow in Elsbeth’s wake. One fat and hairy insect stops in its tracks. I swear its multiple eyes glare at me before it reveals its fangs and hisses. A warning I’m sure. Surveying the ground, I’m mindful not to step on one as I trek behind them.
Crossing the threshold, I feel the invisible wards, like tiny fingers on my shoulders, part and click shut behind me. This is my first time, and I hope my last time, inside Elsbeth’s sanctuary. My wolf growls as I take in the dimly lit, sparsely decorated main room. A lumpy, faded sofa—the color no longer recognizable—is across from a shoddy, brick fireplace. To the left of it is a rickety wooden table with splintered chairs. Off to the right is a much smaller space with a sink and something which passes as a stove.
