by Juniper Hart
Alexei summoned what little strength he had left to rise on his front legs.
The future of the pack, he said, as firmly as Ivy had ever heard him speak, rests with my brother.
Larkin took a step towards the bed, and the attendants in the room immediately shifted, ready to lunge at him. Ivy saw Larkin glancing around, realizing that he was trapped. She could’ve taken him on her own, although he didn’t think she had the strength to do it, but now he was surrounded, and he would be in the middle of a match he clearly wouldn’t be able to win.
Larkin shifted back into his human form, glared at all the occupants of the room, and walked out through the doors.
When Ivy returned home, Harley was in the bathroom, talking to someone on the phone. She was so wound up after what had happened back at the family compound that she couldn’t make out what he was saying. She was too anxious to stay still, pacing back and forth around her small living room area until Harley finally came out.
“Hey, you’re back!” he said with a smile, which disappeared the moment he saw her expression. “Hey, how… how did it go? Is everything okay?”
“Um…” Ivy rubbed the back of her head. “I don’t even know where to start.” She tried to offer him a smile, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She rubbed her eyes, wanting to wipe away her tears before they could spill over.
Harley led her to the sofa so that she could sit, and Ivy leaned her head on her hands.
“My dad’s a lot worse than I thought,” she began. “I mean, Uncle Lincoln told me it was urgent, but… I didn’t think it would be this bad.” She turned to look dejectedly at Harley. “I don’t know how much time he has left.”
Harley pulled her into his arms, and Ivy leaned against him, relishing his support.
“So, does that mean you’re the next in line?”
Ivy shook her head. “Larkin—” She felt Harley tense at the mentioning of his name, and she hurriedly continued. “Larkin thought that I would be, so he…” She took a deep breath. “He told my father he wanted to marry me.”
Harley pulled away from her only enough to glance down at her. Ivy couldn’t read the expression on his face. He seemed to not know what to say himself.
“My dad quickly shut him down, though,” she reassured him. “He insisted that Uncle Lincoln would lead the pack, and after the way Larkin stormed out of there, I don’t think he’ll ever show his face around again.”
Harley let out a sigh of relief, his entire body relaxing, and Ivy realized how worried he had been for her, for her wellbeing. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling Harley until they were embracing again. Ivy kissed his shoulder, suddenly understanding the meaning of the situation. If Larkin wasn’t around any longer, he wasn’t going to come after her again. She no longer had to worry about him showing up and dragging her back.
“I’m free,” she whispered, feeling tears spring to her eyes anew. These tears, though, were of joy and disbelief. “Harley, I’m free.”
“In that case,” said Harley, kissing the top of her head, “I have something I need to tell—”
Someone pounding on the door interrupted their conversation. Ivy and Harley turned to look at each other. Who could it possibly be? Harley stood up to answer, but as soon as he approached the entrance, the door flew open, pushing him back against the wall.
“Harley!” Ivy cried, jumping to her feet.
Three well-dressed men made their way inside her apartment. Harley started to get to his feet, but two of the men grabbed his arms and held him in place.
The third man stood before Ivy, smirking and waving a key in his hand as if it were a magic wand.
“Bunny,” Larkin said, and his sarcastic smile made Ivy’s hair stand on edge. Every nerve in her body was alert. “I forgot to tell you I had a key for your apartment made. Sorry.”
“What do you think you’re—?” One of his goons punched Harley in the stomach, cutting his sentence short, and Ivy immediately reached out to him before Larkin stood on her way.
“Stay out of this, Arco trash,” he snarled, barely looking in Harley’s direction. “This is a family matter.”
“What are you doing here?” Ivy demanded, her hands clenching into fists.
“What happened back at the compound was a mistake,” Larkin said. “I admit that my hurry to make things right must have put your father in quite a difficult situation, but it’s clear that he’s far too ill to make any sound judgments! Giving the family to his brother…” He shook his head, and all it did was make Ivy want to rip his throat out. “Nonsense. I intend to make things right, Bunny, but I’m afraid I’ll need your help to do that.”
“My uncle is a blood relation of my father. What makes you think you’re a better choice? Your arrogance is truly egregious!”
Ivy wasn’t going to let him speak to her—or speak of her father—with such disrespect again. The time for talking was over, and she did something she should have done a long time ago.
She transformed into a wolf and pounced on Larkin, her teeth lunging right for his neck.
Larkin, however, seemed to know what she was going to do, because he shifted into his own wolf form just in time for both of them to fall to the floor, entangled in a brawl. Out of the corner of her eyes, Ivy saw Harley struggling against Larkin’s goons, but she remained focus on the wolf she was fighting.
“Stop!”
The voice that called out the order was so authoritative and so strong that the five shifters in the room stopped exactly where they were. Standing at the door of the apartment was a tall, imposing man, whose status as an alpha was so palpable that it made Larkin hang his head in shame and Harley stand still, free of the other two men’s hold. Harley was mid-transformation, his claws out and his fangs bared, as if he had been about to intercede to help Ivy.
Both Ivy and Larkin shifted back to their human forms, and Ivy wiped the blood off her face from a scratch Larkin had made on her cheek.
“Uncle Lincoln,” she said in disbelief.
“Child!” her uncle exclaimed, moving towards her to wrap her in a hug. It was only until he stepped forward that Ivy noticed he was accompanied by several of her father’s attendants. “I am glad you are safe!”
“How did you know—”
“That I would find him here?” Uncle Lincoln turned to Larkin, glaring at him. “Alexei told me about what he had said, and he feared that this shifter scum would go after you. Let me remove the thorn in your side, would you, child?” He snapped his fingers, and the attendants grabbed Larkin and his goons and escorted them out of Ivy’s apartment.
Then he turned to Harley, casting his icy gaze upon him. “Do not misunderstand, Arco. There is still no truce.”
Harley remained still, which Ivy was thankful for, while her uncle turned back to her.
“I know you are capable of making your own decisions, child,” he told her, gripping her shoulders. “But if you ever wish to return, we will always welcome you back with open arms.”
Before Ivy could say something in response, Uncle Lincoln turned around and left the way he had come, closing the door behind him.
Harley took a deep breath, his claws receding and his fangs shaping back to his human teeth.
“Your uncle is pretty intimidating,” he said, and Ivy couldn’t help laughing.
“Oh,” she said. “If only you had met my father in his prime.”
After they had cleaned up the mess Larkin and his goons had made, they sat down on the couch, since Harley said there was something he needed to tell her.
“Remember I told you I was looking for a job?” Ivy nodded her head. “Well, I got a really good offer.”
His grin made Ivy’s eyes widen. “In… here in Houston?”
Harley shook his head, but the grin remained. “Galveston.”
“Harley!” Ivy cried, grinning back at him. “Galveston is so much closer than Birch City! We’ll get to see each other more often!”
“Actually…” He took
her hands in his, and he looked down at them before glancing back at Ivy. “About that, I… I don’t want to see you just once in a while, Ivy. I want to be with you all the time.”
Ivy frowned at him. “Do you… want me to come to Galveston with you?”
Harley squeezed her hands. “No,” he said. “I want you to marry me.”
Ivy’s heart leaped into her throat, and she found that she couldn’t form any words. She felt like time was standing still, like her body was paralyzed.
Her expression apparently worried Harley, because he kept talking, his own words coming out in a stutter.
“I-I know it’s sudden,” he told her, “and that we haven’t known each other all that long. But you’re the perfect mate to me, Ivy. I felt it from the very first night we spent together, and now I couldn’t be surer. I don’t want to imagine a life with anyone else.”
Ivy felt like she would burst into tears, happiness and shock mixing within her before a sudden thought occurred to her.
“W-would we…” She swallowed and cleared her throat. “Would we be Arcos, or…?”
Harley shook his head. “We can leave all of that behind. Galveston is a new start for us both.” He cupped her cheek with one of his hands. “I love you, Ivy, and I want to be with you for as long as I’m alive. And even after that, if there’s such a thing as an afterlife for werewolves.”
Ivy placed her hand on top of his and leaned their foreheads together, blinking back her elated tears. She couldn’t believe she had met Harley exactly when she had needed him the most, exactly when she had needed someone to fight for—someone who loved her just as she was, who wanted to be with her as much as she wanted to be with him. She let out a small, soft laugh.
“Well,” she murmured. “I guess we’ll find out together.”
Harley’s grin was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
THE END
Part IV
Lost in the Woods
By Alexis Davie
1
“I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, listening to you!”
Jax kicked at a rock furiously, and the stone narrowly missed Annabelle’s cheek. She turned her head away in the nick of time, rapidly blinking back the sudden onset of tears which flooded her violet-colored eyes. Rain was pelting against her skin, almost hurting her, but she didn’t feel anything but borderline fear and genuine unhappiness.
“Why didn’t you tell me this place was in the middle of nowhere?” Jax bellowed, stomping his foot on the muddy ground like a whining horse.
Annabelle could see his breaths coming out hot and steamy against the humidity.
“I gave you the goddamn GPS for a reason, Annabelle! You could have used the little bit of brain you have to tell me that it was going to take longer than we thought!”
“I didn’t know it was this far,” Annabelle turned her lovely face to stare imploringly at her fiancé, but she knew the action was futile; there was nothing she could say or do to placate him while he was in such a state of fury. Like the storm, she would simply have to bide her time and hope he simmered down soon before things got out of hand.
“Let’s get back in the car,” she pleaded, reaching a tanned arm out toward Jax. “We can wait out the storm and call for help afterward. I bet when the rain stops, we’ll be able to get a phone signal.”
“You get back in the goddamn car! Who knows how long it’s going to rain? It might be days. And even if it does stop, we’re in the middle of fucking nowhere! There’s no guarantee that we’ll get reception on a clear day. I need to find help, thanks to your idiotic idea. Why would you suggest taking a shortcut? Didn’t you notice that the gas light was on?”
He was not finished unleashing, and Annabelle was having more and more difficulty holding in her anguish. Didn’t you? You were the one driving! Annabelle silently slapped back with the smidgen of fire she could muster from within, but she wisely kept her rosebud mouth closed and allowed him to continue raging. She began to tremble as the storm snaked its way through her thin t-shirt and down her tight jeans. She rubbed her arms, trying to fabricate some warmth through the friction.
“Oh for Christ’s sake, Annabelle, get back in the car!” Jax yelled at her. “You are absolutely useless.”
He stormed off down the deserted pathway, headed in the same direction as they had come half an hour earlier.
“Jax, wait! I’ll come, too,” Annabelle yelled after him but he had already disappeared behind the lush trees, out of view.
Inwardly, she was deeply relieved. When she was certain he wasn’t immediately returning, she hurried to the Chevy, soaked and shivering, and collapsed in the passenger seat. He hadn’t left her the keys, but it wouldn’t have mattered. The beat-up car was completely dead. Digging around in their bags, she located a towel and attempted to dry her soaked frame.
Jax hadn’t noticed because of the rain, but tears had begun to flow from her eyes, mingling with the shower in synchronicity. Why do I put up with this? Why do I let him talk to me that way? They had almost become age old questions to Annabelle, ones she posed internally more and more with each day that passed.
Once upon a time, Jax and Annabelle had been a golden couple, the envy of friends and strangers alike. Physically, they were paired by the gods. He was tall, fair, and athletic, while she was petite, yet voluptuous, with dark curls and an alluring smile. All their peers agreed that their children would have unrivaled good looks.
In high school, Jax Hunter had been a football halfback, and Annabelle LaCroix, a cheerleader. They were both outgoing, witty, and academically successful, each eventually gaining scholarships to their first choices in colleges. Their parents were friends with each other, and the young couple had grown up only blocks away from one another in an upper-middle-class city in Michigan. It was the epitome of the American love story. They were picture perfect, and from the beginning of their teens, everyone in Middlebury had known they were going to live happily ever after. Everyone, that was, except Annabelle.
It had started going downhill unexpectedly right after college. She and Jax had been officially dating for just over six years, and things had been going smoothly. They spent all of their free time together, joking and laughing. They had the same circle of friends and similar views on most subjects. Jax had been talking about marriage, and Annabelle had been thrilled at the prospects for their future. But something changed, and she didn’t know what it was.
One evening, they had plans to go to a movie with two other couples: Annabelle’s best friend, Elyse, and her boyfriend, and Jax’s best friend, Julian, and his girlfriend. The night had started out well enough; the six ate dinner at the local greasy spoon before heading out the multiplex downtown, something they had done many times prior.
Jax had started telling some off-color sexual joke to the boys, and all three girls quickly shut him down, groaning at the inappropriateness of such conversation. They had continued to the show without incident, but when Annabelle and Jax bid goodnight to their friends and returned to Jax’s car, he had begun screaming without prompting. Annabelle had been caught completely off guard by his abrupt change in personality and could only sit listening to his anger, open-mouthed and in shock. It was a rage which had been brewing since dinner, and Jax had accused her of making him look stupid in front of their friends, a diatribe which had continued for over an hour, all while he drove aimlessly around town in the Chevy at breakneck speed. For effect, when he dropped her off at home, he smashed his fists across the dashboard, denting the hard rubber.
Shocked and terrified, Annabelle had apologized profusely, promising never to make him feel uncomfortable again. She had felt guilty and ashamed for putting him in that position and vowed to be more conscious of her actions in the future, never wanting to see that side of Jax again.
Unfortunately for Annabelle, however, that night had simply been the tip of the monstrous iceberg. Suddenly he was lashing out after every date night, nit-picking at things she had d
one or said, things she would have never imagined could offend anyone. She chewed too loudly or laughed too hard as his friends’ jokes. No matter how hard Annabelle tried to please him, their days always ended in an eruption and Annabelle crying into her pillow. Overnight, Jax had become possessive, emotionally abusive, and paranoid about her affiliations with any guys he didn’t know, and on occasion, he became jealous when his own friends paid too much attention to Annabelle.
Over time, Annabelle’s sunny smiles became further and fewer apart. She barely spoke in Jax’s presence as any innocent comment or question was subject to intense scrutiny and ridicule.
While he never put his hands on her directly, nothing was safe in his rage. Books were sent flying, furniture got kicked, and doors slammed. Annabelle often feared that she would be the next broken object in his wake. She always assured herself that if that ever occurred, she would end the relationship and never go back. She tried to ignore the cynical voice in her head which constantly whispered that she was doomed to stay in a relationship with a hot-headed man-child, whether he hit her or not. But she was holding out hope that he would return to the sweet man she once knew. Not for the first time, she asked herself how she had ever agreed to his proposal the previous fall.
It’s not too late. You aren’t married. You don’t have kids. You can still get out. But even as she had those thoughts, she recognized the self-reassurances as empty, unenforceable ideas.
Annabelle dried her face with a fluffy brown towel and turned to stare out the window at the unrelenting rain. She had hoped that this outing would go smoothly. Julian had set up the trip weeks earlier, and initially, Annabelle had assumed it was a boys’ weekend. None of her female peers had mentioned anything about the trip, but she spent less and less time amongst them as the years passed. Jax had cut off her social media access, and after work, he was there to pick her up every single night.
