by E Hall
Some members of the pack tend the grill and others line the buffet, serving up questionable concoctions that glow. A fog machine makes ghostly mist against the backdrop of night. I fill a plate with a whoopie pie with orange frosting, a slice of giant cookie cake decorated to look like a spider’s web, and a caramel apple drizzled with chocolate. I sit down with Avril dressed as a shark. We get along better now, but it is a fitting costume.
Holding a flashlight beneath her chin, she tells a spooky story about ghost sharks. “They linger in shallow water, waiting to attack. They circle, creating a whirlpool then suck up whatever is in the surrounding water.” She gets carried away, telling a tale about fins whipping, teeth-gnashing, and death on the rocky ocean floor.
An equal amount of laughter and gasps come from those gathered around. I wouldn’t doubt that the ghost sharks are real. Alister floats into my thoughts, but I want to ignore the multitude of worries cramming my mind. Tonight is for having fun.
Wind sweeps down from the mountains and across the valley. Voices echo from the bluff and the beam of a flashlight sways as another group approaches.
Just as Avril gets to the climax of her story, a low song filters between the notes of the crackling fire, the pirate-speak, and the chatter.
My skin chills. My hackles lift.
I don’t think anyone would dare dress as a fae or imitate their song. That can only mean one thing. They’re attacking.
I look around frantically, but I’m the only one who seems to hear it. Corbin stands on the other side of the clearing. His sword is sheathed. I rush over to him, to warn him when the bonfire suddenly dies, replaced by what looks like a flash of lightning.
But I know better.
Chapter 10
Corbin
For a second, everyone is quiet. Calloused fingers paw my arm and someone steps on my toe. There's a lot of shuffling, grunting, laughter, and shouting. Real-life chaos.
A blast of fae magic surges through the clearing. I survey my surroundings as Kenna rushes up to me.
Fear crimps her eyes. “Do you hear them?” she asks.
“No, but I see them.”
From the forest, silhouettes move across the field. My mind suddenly illuminates in a blue-green glow as magic flashes. I shift and am instantly thrown back, hitting my head on a rock. I struggle and fight back as magic blazes through the night.
Using the wolf-way of communication, I give the pack the cue to shift, ordering them to fan out from the central bonfire. A send a few others to the lodge to warn anyone there.
Kenna doesn’t shift. She and I stand at the head of our gathering, ready to fight if that’s what they’ve come for. The betas take up the flank. Despite the daily deaths and our attempts to find the scepter, the fae king has been quiet. Too quiet.
Melchior, tall, slender, and bearded floats toward us.
Snarls grow in chests. Paws dig into the dirt. Lips pull back to reveal sharp teeth.
Kenna, still in physical form, calls, “What business do you have crossing onto our land uninvited, unwelcome?”
Point one for the wolves. That was fierce, Trigg says using the wolf-way.
He’s still on probation, but at least Kenna and Avril get along now. While I was sword fighting, I saw them near the fire. I should’ve been on the alert and not going along with this silly nonsense. I’m Alpha. The fact that fae crossed our boundaries tells me I’m not doing my job.
“Good evening, fae maiden, Kenna,” Melchior says.
“That’s Alpha wolf Kenna to you.”
“Ah, but you cannot deny the call to the fae is strong.” The corner of his lip twitches.
Kenna’s breath fills her chest. She exhales slowly.
“Why don’t you make this easy and join us.” Melchior steps closer.
“Never.”
“Ah, then I take it your mate,” he spits the word, “didn’t tell you about our little agreement.”
Don’t listen to him, I tell her through our connection.
“You are to be my fae queen and rule the court with me. And if not, I will bring ruin to the magical and human world alike...through you. Just as I did with your father. As you can see with the recent losses along the forest boundary, my words are a promise and carry great weight.”
“And my word is final. The answer is no. You don’t get to to decide who I spend my life with or threaten me and get away with it.”
The wolves silently cheer her on.
“That is such a human way to think of things,” Melchior says the word human with more disgust than when he said mate. “In the old days, a lovely girl like yourself would have suitors, but as you can see there are no longer male fae. You can thank your ancestors for that.”
“Corbin and I are fated mates. We’re sealed. We’re getting married.” She splays her fingers, turns her palm in, and shows him the ring.
His eyes flash. Magic ripples over his shoulders, and he rolls them back. “I didn’t come here to negotiate.”
“Why do you want to make me your queen?”
He tilts his head down to her level. “I like to surround myself with beauty and friends and life’s riches. My court is a close group, what you might think of as a family, and you’re a mere consolation for Isa’s betrayal.”
“No, we’re enemies.” Kenna’s eyebrows sharpen.
“In that case, I challenge you to an Alpha Call-Out,” Melchior says.
Shocked rumbles ripple among the wolves. Turns out my reluctance to announce our status then perform the ritual to seal our bond wasn’t unfounded.
Dread fills me at the Alpha Call-Out fight. I didn’t want Kenna to have to go through with it. I didn’t want to revisit when I killed Logan.
It’s like the wind drops from my sails. I crash, feeling as though I’ve run aground in my pirate ship.
“You’re not a wolf. How do you propose to fight?” Kenna asks.
The fae king stands at attention. His courtesans part and a burly wolf with matted, brownish-red fur stalks forward. I scent blood, lust, and Alpha.
Anger and jealousy rear inside of me. I snarl low and menacing. The other Alpha wolf does the same.
“But we’re already sealed,” Kenna says, not understanding that in the wolf world, it’s all about dominance.
If a pair of wolf Alphas is untested, another must step in and challenge them. If they win, they can continue to rule the pack. If the male slays the other male, he wins the mate, I tell her in the wolf-way.
Kenna growls. “I. Am. Not. A. Prize.”
“Oh, but you are,” Melchior says.
“No, fae king. I’m your enemy. And I already told you, I’m a monster.”
I cannot fathom what is going through my mate’s mind, but she shifts and without hesitating, lunges at the newcomer.
The Alpha wolf’s muscles ripple as he braces for her attack. His expression streaks with primal rage.
My wolf rumbles mine. She’s mine.
Kenna pushes him backward, but he easily brushes her off. His gaze is on me as I bound forward with my teeth bared.
He swipes at me, running his claws through my fur, but not making contact with the skin beneath. I snake to the side and then lunge again, biting down on his flank. He doesn’t even yelp.
Kenna circles, looking for an opening. Most would argue that two on one isn’t fair, but the Alpha who challenges the mated pair is out for blood, while the couple is in newly sealed bliss. I suppose that balances things out.
The Alpha coils then springs, kicking Kenna with his back paws and using the momentum to drop me to the ground. I writhe under his hold then roll, getting back on all fours. I hold his yellow gaze. Alpha to Alpha.
Because we’re not in the same pack, I cannot hear his voice, but the message is clear. He intends to kill me. I’ll sacrifice myself for Kenna, but my wolf won’t give up just yet.
My wolf instincts register the threat. I don’t waste another moment and thrust forward, landing him on his back. We fight, snarling, a
nd growling. My focus is on his neck, but he’s strong and repeatedly swings out of reach.
He bites down on my thigh, piercing the skin. The pain is instant as he tries to rip my leg from my body. He shakes his head violently, practically picking me up off the ground. This Alpha is relentless.
If this is a glimpse into what life will be like without the Accords spell, I have to win. Melchior cannot claim Kenna as queen. Not only because I love her, but because he was right about me. It is my duty to protect—her and everyone else.
This lights the fire in me to twist free from the Alpha’s jaw. I scissor my teeth, biting him, wearing him down as I get closer to his neck.
But I’m too close. His teeth lower over my neck. His position prevents him from using the full force of his jaw. Now, I’m vulnerable.
Kenna drops in with a fierce cry. She closes her teeth around the Alpha’s neck. He shakes her off.
I get out from under him, but not fast enough, distracted as she slams hard into the ground and yelps.
My mate doesn’t move. The rage burning inside prompts me to strike hard. The Alpha and I lock teeth—each gripping the other close enough to the neck to draw blood. However, a surge of what feels like electricity moves through the Alpha like a conduit. I feel his extra strength as he chomps down, breaking the surface. I writhe, but it’s too late.
All he has to do is intensify the bite, break through the vein, and I’m finished. I try to bust loose. I fail.
I look for Kenna. I want her to be the last thing I see before I lose her and this life. But she’s no longer lying limp on the dirty ground.
My wolf mate with the stormy gray eyes is on all fours. She’s glowing, surging with electricity of her own. I’ve never seen a wolf lit with fae magic, but it comes off her in waves.
The air crackles enough to distract the Alpha from me and his bite loosens. I cannot get out from under him, but now I stand a chance.
Wolf-Kenna lifts a paw. In one blinding flash of magic a shifter does not inherently possess, she blasts the Alpha into the sky.
He lands nearby in a lifeless lump as my mate rushes over to me. On instinct, she licks my wounds, instantly providing healing.
We communicate the wolf-way. Melchior played dirty, gave the Alpha a magical boost so I tested out what I can do.
I’m grateful, but Melchior’s comment about her being the ruin of wolves whispers in my mind. As we both get to our feet, I scent unfamiliar wolf—lone wolves like the Alpha that aren’t part of our pack or any pack.
About ten of them descend from the hills as the fae vanish into the darkness. I’m certain this isn’t the last we’ll see of them. They must’ve solicited these lost wolves, promised protection or a better life.
Melchior pauses, “Ah, it’s the full moon. Too bad you won’t be able to protect the humans tonight. It looks like you’ll be busy.”
This means more deaths. The fae are hunting. The tension of being caught between defending my pack and the people of Polaris and beyond winds so tight inside me I’m ready to snap.
I bark in warning. If they’re hoping to plunder and discover treasure, they will only find their demise. Get ready to fight, I order the pack.
Now that’s how to ruin a party, Trigg says.
Melchior wants to divide us, weaken us, and distract us. What if we talk to these wolves? Ask them to join us instead? Kenna suggests.
Nope. It looks like we have to fight, Trigg says as a white wolf with bloodstained fur launches herself at him.
These rogue wolves must be outside the Accords spell. Melchior must’ve bribed or coerced them. The Alpha that Kenna killed isn’t their pack leader so they have no loyalty over losing him. But they’re relentless.
The white wolf with bloodstained fur doesn’t let up on Trigg. She’s bitten him three times. I try to get over to him, to tear the intruder up, but Avril gets there first. She attacks the female with vigor.
I defend my pack and am thankful we have safety in our numbers. Soon, we’ve slain nine of the ten wolves. The sharp inhales and exhales of my pack fills my ears as they catch their breath.
I scan for the final wolf and spot her and Avril locked in battle. My beta gets the upper hand and lowers her jaw over the white wolf’s neck. The stain spreads quickly.
However, not all the members of my pack are on their feet.
Trigg lies on the ground completely still. Lifeless.
My vision flashes to when I saw Kenna like that. But he’s not part fae.
Avril dispenses with the white wolf, casting her aside with the others. She pads over to Trigg, nudges him with her muzzle, and then lifts her snout into the air and lets out a long, lamenting howl.
The rest of us join in, sending our brother home.
Chapter 11
Kenna
The pack, and Avril especially, grieve over losing Trigg. By day, we all wear black. At night, we take turns howling, a wolf custom to make sure his spirit finds its way to the Sea of Dreams—the place magicals believe we go when we die.
Ironic that the theme for the Halloween party and Harvest Fest was the ocean.
It’s not much, but I go to the Sugar, Spice, and Everything Nice Bakery every day and leave Avril a treat in a bag outside her bedroom door.
I’ve gathered that my sweet tooth comes from being fae, but she and I share a love for sugar. And naming cars. Although Rhonda the Honda was technically my mother’s vehicle, I named it. I was five.
Meanwhile, after the Alpha Call-Out, Corbin hasn’t let me out of his sight day and night.
One morning, I wake up, hungry for a doughnut and stretch. Across the room, my gaze lands on the handsome guy seated in the chair by the window.
Corbin’s brown hair was recently trimmed but still has its perfectly messy quality. A bit of scruff fills in along his jawline. My heart flutters every time I see him like it’s the first time. Truly. My cheeks flush at the way he’s looking at me with longing.
I sit up and have to break the spell because I know I have bedhead and morning breath, not that he cares. “Did I snore?” I ask.
His face lightens with a smile. “I think of it more like soft hum.”
I cringe in embarrassment. The song of the fae that fills my ears so often shoots a spike of nerves through me. “We’re both Alpha, and I completely understand your desire to protect me, but if you recall, I’m the one who defeated the wolf at the Alpha Call-Out. You should probably get some sleep.”
A shadow crosses his features. “I feel more comfortable here with you.”
“You’re under a lot of pressure. People keep dying. We need to do something, but we need our Alpha at his best. You should rest.”
He presses his lips together because he knows I’m right even though he wants to argue.
I cross the room and climb onto his lap, forgetting my morning appearance. He’s seen it enough at this point. Plus we’re wolf shifters, bonded, mated, soon to be married. I pinch his chin between my fingers and bring his mouth to mine.
“You always taste like cherry Chapstick,” he says around our kiss.
His palm presses to the small of my back as his heavy arm wraps around me.
I thread my fingers around the sides of his face. My breath drags as I melt into the kiss.
Corbin’s heart pounds against the cage of his ribs as he smooths his free hand over my arm, to my shoulder, and then cups the base of my skull, drawing me close as we continue.
The loose hairs around my face tickle me, and I wiggle in his arms, breaking the kiss.
“I know I can defend myself, but it is nice knowing you’re here too. But I worry about you. What did you do while I was sleeping?”
“Thought about you. Us.”
“And…”
“I don’t want you to think, for one more second, that the fae king will bring you into his court. You mean everything to me. You woke something up inside my cold heart.”
I make a sizzling sound. “I’d argue that it’s a hot heart, part of th
is whole package here.” I flash a flirtatious smile and climb out of the chair to freshen up and start the day.
Corbin lets out a low whistle in my direction. “You’re adorable and beautiful, and I’m not sure you even realize it.”
I duck into the bathroom. And he doesn’t even realize the song I hear anytime Melchior’s name is mentioned. I perch on the edge of the sink and pull out my diary. I have it stashed under some towels along with the one from Lonsdale.
I write about how I want to be free of the fae within—even though my magic came in handy at the Alpha Call-Out.
Using the wolf-way of communicating, Baker tunes into our frequency. There’s been another death.
From the other side of the bathroom door, I sense Corbin’s energy stiffen.
It was the owner of the bakery in Polaris.
I don’t even need to hear him confirm it was Pepper’s grandfather. My chest craters. I stash my diary and hurry to get ready.
As Corbin and I drive into town, I go through conversations Pepper and I had. She’d told me about the history of the fae. Somehow, they were preserved whereas most of the magicals I know have no recollection of life before the Accords. It’s almost like they were cursed to forget.
This tells me that the spell has lifted for the fae or that they’ve always existed outside it. Or Pepper does.
I knock my head into the headrest.
“Care to share?” Corbin asks as he skids around a corner, hurrying into town.
“I’m trying to make sense of everything.”
“If that’s the case, don’t use human logic.”
“I suppose that’s why I haven’t been able to piece things together. I thought that the magic of the cry of the fae, the song they use to kill these men, only works under the moonlight.”
“If the Accords spell is lifting, there’s no telling what’s possible.”
“But that’s just it. Pepper told me about the stories of the fae—Alden and Isa specifically. That was pre-Accords. Somehow the knowledge was preserved.”
“Dragons used to be the keepers of knowledge, but there aren’t any left that we know of,” Corbin says with a shrug. “Doesn’t mean they don’t exist. Maybe they passed it along.”
