Backlash (Winter's Wrath #1)

by Bianca Sommerland

  She bit her lip as it began to quiver and Alder came toward her. He held out his arms and she leaned into him, struggling to compose herself. Her eyes watered and she shook her head, not sure why she was suddenly so emotional. Her birthday had usually been a quiet day with her grandfather when she was younger. She’d seen the other kids with cupcakes their mothers brought to class, or went to parties where two loving parents brought out a big cake and sang to their little boy or girl. And for awhile, she’d wanted what they had.

  So Grandpa had thrown her a party when she was eleven. He’d been so uncomfortable, trying to stay out of the way as well-meaning women from the tribe took over organizing the food, drinks, and games. Danica had found him away from all the noise, working on a piece of deer pelt he’d bought from a local hunter. His mother had taught him to make moccasins when he was a boy, and he usually made them each, and the few people he liked, a pair every fall.

  Until then, she’d never been interested in learning. But that day, she wanted to.

  “Can you teach me, Grandpa?”

  He frowned, not looking up from the pelt he was cutting. “You should be with your friends.”

  “But I want to learn.” She cocked her head, using the one reason she knew he’d understand. “Shouldn’t I have a choice?”

  He looked at her then. “Don’t you want to play with your friends?”

  “They’re only my friends today. They don’t usually like me because I get paid to smile at a camera.” She realized then that she didn’t like pretending to like people. And neither did her grandfather. “They say I’m not even pretty. I don’t want to share my cake with them.”

  Letting out a surprised laugh, he leaned over and hugged her. “All right, you don’t have to play with them. But you will share your cake, they’re our guests.”

  “Fine.” She let out a dramatic sigh. “But will you teach me?”

  “Yes.” He picked up a needle, already strung with sinew from the same deer that the pelt had come from. “Do you know how to sew?”

  “No. You haven’t taught me that either.”

  “Then that’s where we’ll begin.”

  She never asked for a party after that. To her, all the presents weren’t worth pretending to have friends for one day. She didn’t have parents, but she had her grandfather. And the time she spent with him was special. Because he truly loved her. Every gift from him meant something.

  Sophie kept her birthdays simple as well. She’d brought Danica out to lunch once in Paris and given her a new purse. She’d remembered Danica’s stories about her grandfather’s useful gifts, and she’d decided Danica needed a fancy purse worth more than most people’s entire wardrobe.

  “You’d never buy it for yourself, but people see you, Danica. They see you, and something as insignificant as a purse or a pair of shoes will mark you as one of the elite.” Sophie laughed and shook her head. “It’s pretentious, I know. But don’t think of the cost. Know that I want people to look at you and see what I do. A woman who can have the most expensive, stylish things in the world, but remains the same, strong, beautiful person she was raised to be. I know you miss your grandfather, but he tells me all the time that you’ll keep shining as bright as you do now. And I believe him.”

  Rubbing her back, Alder leaned close, speaking softly. “Tell me what you’re thinking. Is this too much?”

  “No, it’s perfect.” She moved to wipe the one tear that fell down her cheek, but Alder used his sleeve to dry it, his eyes never leaving her face. “I’ve always hated fake parties and meaningless gifts. I don’t feel like that about what you guys have done for me. No matter how many issues there may be, when you care about something, or someone, it’s real.”

  She considered the tension between Alder and Brave, and corrected her claim, but only to herself. Brave pretended not to care very well. But if he ever stopped hiding behind whatever made him afraid to love his brother, she had a feeling nothing would come between them.

  Hopefully, he’d see that too. Before it was too late.

  His broody, false front didn’t matter now though.

  Those pancakes looked damn good. And Sophie had told her several times that birthday calories didn’t count, so she could have as much as she wanted. Maybe Alder would share. Her birthday rules applied to him too, because she said so.

  “You good now?” Alder was still watching her. And she could feel him relax even before she nodded. He could tell she was ready to enjoy her party. Fuck, she loved how he paid attention to every little detail, reading her body language and her face and doing his best to give her what she needed.

  He wouldn’t always be right, but the effort? It meant more than she could say.

  “I’m good.” She held his hand as she made her way through the crowded bus lounge, hugging Connor, then Malakai, and finally Tate. Brave was standing in the back, behind the roadies, a stiff smile planted on his lips.

  No hug for him.

  “Wait!” Tate pulled something out of his pocket as she sat at the table and picked up the fork. “I have candles for you to blow out. They looked stupid with the sparklers, so I took them off, but you gotta make a wish.”

  “You’re so right. Thank you, Tate.” She grinned at him as he put the candles on the cake. Then she wrinkled her nose. “Twenty six?”

  “Umm…yeah?” He glanced over at Alder, who shook his head. “Shit. Okay, don’t freak. I don’t think you’re old or anything, but—”

  Jesse, who was sitting on the sofa other side of the bus, snorted. “You think twenty-six is old?”

  “No!” Tate slapped a hand over his face. “I just…Danica isn’t like a teenager. She’s cool, but mature, so—”

  Malakai draped his arm over Tate’s shoulder. “Stop talking, kid.”

  “Okay.” Tate bit his bottom lip and gave Danica the most adorable, apologetic look. “You want me to light them anyway?”

  “Yes, please.” She snickered. “Just remind me, in two years, that I already used up that wish.”

  The flames flickered once both candles were lit, but Danica couldn’t think of a wish. Not for herself anyway. She had so much and she still couldn’t believe how lucky she was. Her career was flourishing, her grandfather wasn’t alone, and she’d fallen in love with the most amazing man in the world.

  So she gave her wish to him. She wished that Alder could have the one thing he’d missed out on for too long. A brother that loved him. And showed it.

  Closing her eyes, she blew out the candles.

  “Time for gifts!” Tate reached under the table, coming up with an armful of presents wrapped in newspaper. “Open mine first.”

  He dumped the presents on the table and handed her one that looked like it had been carefully wrapped with the comics section of the morning paper. This morning’s actually. The gift was thin and bent slightly. There was a solid, rectangular lump in the middle.

  She shook it and he laughed. When she tore the wrapper, he folded his arms over his chest, rocking in his sneakers.

  “I know coloring books are a kid thing, but I see chicks talking about it on Facebook all the time and they find it fun and I thought you’d like it.” His face went red. “Maybe it’s stupid.”

  “Goof, it’s not stupid.” She flipped through the coloring book, which had intricate pictures of mystical creatures on every page. He’d also gotten her a small box of pencil crayons. “I love it. It will keep me busy on tour when I get bored of video games.”

  “But you can’t get too bored. You’re good at them!” He looked like he was reconsidering giving her an alternative source of entertainment, so she tucked the book and the crayon box behind her.

  The rest of the gifts were all band merchandise. She now had two hoodies, several T-shirts, key chains, posters, and two different beanies with the Winter’s Wrath logo. It might seem to some like the guys had taken the easy way out of finding gifts for her, but she’d learned that selling merch at shows actually covered a lot of the band’s incom
e.

  None of the guys had just grabbed the stuff to give her. They’d have paid for it so it didn’t cut into the band’s earnings. Which made each gift special.

  Alder’s gift came last, but he didn’t give it to her right away. Moving away from her, he stood next to Jesse. Malakai handed Jesse his acoustic guitar.

  “I’ve spent the last two days working on this. And driving both Jesse and Malakai nuts by changing my mind every other fucking minute because it seemed so cliché and stupid.” He cleared his throat. “But then I thought of how often we do this. Write songs, hoping they’ll mean something to the fans. Knowing they mean something to us. And if I was going to give you anything, it should be what means the most to me. Besides you.” He smiled as she put her hands to her hot cheeks. “The music.”

  Jesse strummed a few notes, long and soft, with a dark tone.

  Alder bowed his head, nodding a little to the beat of the music. All the men on the bus went quiet.

  And Alder began to sing.

  “Surrounded by the roar,

  of a surf-tormented shore.

  Where the melody is bittersweet

  And love’s only a four-letter word.

  You remind me this is a dream.

  Won’t be long before I wake.

  Northern lights in your eyes,

  Too fucking good to be real.

  This dream within a dream.”

  His voice swept over her, deep and strong, rising like a tide crashing against the shore, like the words in the song, wearing away any doubts, leaving behind nothing too weak to survive the storm.

  She didn’t try to hide the tears as the song ended. If the guys didn’t get how much this meant to her, too damn bad. They had a chick on the bus. And her wonderful man had given her the most amazing gift. One that would last long after everything she owned, everything worth holding on to, was sitting in the attic of one of her grandchildren’s homes.

  Because his music was an art. And true art could never be forgotten.

  “Please tell me you’re going to record that song.” She pushed out of her seat and took his hands in hers, the crimson blush spreading high on his cheeks making the gift even more precious. He didn’t sing in front of many people, and he’d sung in front of the entire band and crew for her. “Alder, that was beautiful.”

  Alder’s lips quirked slightly and he lifted his shoulders. “Winter’s Wrath doesn’t do ballads. But I’m happy you liked it.”

  “She’s right though, bro.” Brave strode through the small space between the band and crew in the lounge, reaching into the fridge for a beer. He took a few sips, then held the beer up as though in cheers. “I didn’t know you could write lyrics. Or sing so good. A few more years and you can take my place. Make the band soft rock and go mainstream. Good job.”

  Slamming the fridge door, Brave stormed past all the stunned members of his band and off the bus.

  Alder’s jaw ticked. He framed her face with his hands. “Do not let him ruin this for you.”

  She inhaled quickly and smiled at him. “No fucking way. I’m ready to dig into those pancakes. Wanna share? It’s not cheating on your diet because today is special.”

  “It’s not? Really?” Alder let her lead him back to the table. He pulled away abruptly. “Almost forgot. Here.”

  The box. Unlike the other gifts, it was wrapped in pretty, emerald green wrapping paper with a crooked bow on top.

  “I guessed your favorite color. Or…ok, that’s a lie. After the first time I looked into your eyes, green became my favorite color.” He gave her a small smile. “They’re fucking cool though.”

  “Thank you, but you don’t need to use lines on me. I’m yours, Alder.”

  “The day I stop trying to win you is the day I don’t deserve to have you.” He pressed the box into her hand. “I hope you like it.”

  She unwrapped it slowly, because the paper was pretty and she didn’t want to rip it. Not that she had a clue what she could save it for, but she’d think of something.

  Inside was a silver cuff. With the lyrics of Alder’s song stamped into it.

  “The bassist of Horizon makes these. I thought he was gonna lay me out when I asked if he could make one in two days. But he pulled it off.” Alder ran his thumb over the carefully pressed words in the metal. “I owe him. Likely a body part, but it was worth it.”

  Slipping the cuff onto her wrist, she read over each lyric, not wanting to look at Alder because she couldn’t blink back the tears. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say a word. I wanted to make your birthday special, even though you’re stuck with us.” He pressed his lips to her forehead and wrapped his arms around her. “You look happy. You’re crying, but I think they’re happy tears.”

  “They are.”

  “Good. I plan to make you happy for a long time, Danica. As long as you’ll let me. I don’t write lyrics. I’ve never been in love. But you make me believe I can have anything. Do anything.” He kissed her, softly, and whispered. “But all I want to do is love you.”

  “There’s so much you can do. And I’m saying I love you first.” She laced her hands behind his neck. “Not today though. You surprised me. When I say those words, you won’t see them coming because there’s no taking them back. I mean them now, but when I say them? I’m saying forever. I’m giving you all I am. And that scares me, because you’re wonderful and I’m still convinced I’ll wake up tomorrow and you won’t be there.”

  “That I’m just a dream?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Good. Because that’s exactly how I feel about you. But it’s the way I felt when I first stepped up on a stage holding my guitar. That it couldn’t be real. But it’s real.” He gave her a hooded look. “When you hear my voice. When I touch you. When you feel me inside you…it’s all real. You’re wide awake, Danica. Every morning when you wake up, I’ll be right here.” He placed his hand over her breast, where her heart was beating faster with his every word. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Good, because that’s exactly where I need you.”

  A dream within a dream. His song fit them perfectly. His dream had been for his band to succeed. Hers to be a face people would remember. To become a woman that, years from now, girls back home would look up to. They wouldn’t hate her for being different. They would know they could reach for what they wanted out of life and still find love.

  Because that was the dream within the dream.

  To reach for your own stars.

  And find you aren’t alone.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Late November and Chicago was covered in snow. Probably wouldn’t last, it had been a warm fall, but Alder had enjoyed walking with Danica along the Lakefront Trail in Jackson Park, snuggling together against the cold as they looked out at Lake Michigan.

  Danica hadn’t packed a coat since she’d started the tour with them in Vegas, but Tate’s thick bomber jacket wasn’t too big on her. She’d worn a Blackhawks toque, ignoring his allegiance to the Red Wings, and catching fat snowflakes in her bare hands.

  So adorable, with her cheeks all red and her eyes wide as she took in the sights. For a little while he’d been able to enjoy watching her and forget that she’d be leaving him for a few days.

  But Sophie had found her a casting call that was too great an opportunity to pass up. In Detroit, so she’d headed there ahead of them. It wouldn’t mess with her obligations to the band. The only reason she’d hesitated was because she hated the idea of leaving him alone to deal with his brother.

  “We talked about this, angel.” Alder framed her cold cheeks with his hands as she insisted she would try to talk to Brave again. That she would feel much better about leaving if the band wasn’t falling apart. “You have your job. I have mine. Part of mine happens to be dealing with Brave acting like a complete asshole.”

  “He wants you to hate him.”

  “I don’t hate him. I want to punch him sometimes. I don’t un
derstand him.” Alder sighed and shook his head. “But I don’t hate him.”

  “Well, he acts like he hates you, but you have to know he doesn’t.” She hiked her chin up, meeting his eyes. “Not that it matters, because I love you.”

  Even now, staring out at the snow covered streets as Jesse pulled the van up beside the bus that had been left in the Walmart parking lot during the last show, Alder could hear her saying those words so clearly, it was like she was right here with him. He’d been speechless at first. Danica wasn’t the type of woman to say she loved someone if she didn’t mean it.

  Combing his fingers into her hair, he tipped her head back and claimed her lips. There were so many thing he needed to tell her, but first, he had to show her what her words meant to him. He kissed her as though he couldn’t breathe without her. As though her touch was all he lived for.

  Because he’d given her his heart and his soul and when she wasn’t with him, she took a piece of both.

  “I love you. I love waking up and seeing you sleeping beside me. I love how you make the music and the stage your own with every move you make. I love how just your smile can kill all the fucking demons that haunt me.” Nothing he was saying was enough, so he kept going. “I love how much you care about everyone and how fucking fierce you are protecting those you claim. And that you’ve claimed me, you amazing woman. I love that most of all.”

  Her eyes teared and she inhaled roughly. “Have I? Because I don’t know if that’s a good thing. There’s so much that you haven’t seen yet. So much more I want to give you.”

  “What more could you possibly give me?”

  “Just…more. And I would tell you, but I still haven’t figured out how.” She let out a broken laugh. “I will though. And when I do, know it’s because I love you. Okay?”

  He’d agreed. He wasn’t sure what exactly he’d agreed to, but she’d smiled, so it couldn’t be a bad thing.

  The next morning she’d rented a car and driven to Detroit. The bed beside him was cold and empty, but her pillow on the bus still held her scent. Which helped him sleep.