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Awakening: Book 1 of The Summer Omega Series

Page 11

by JK Cooper


  “Shel—”

  “It’s okay, dad,” she said, looking at Grant. He had finally softened. “Lucas was popular, good-looking, easygoing. Part of that crowd that everyone smirks at but secretly wants to be a part of. When he actually noticed me, I felt like I had somehow arrived.” She took a nervous breath. Was she really going to tell this story? “I had crushed on him pretty hard for several months prior, and everyone knew it.”

  Shelby stopped and took a sip of water, her hand shaking slightly. The water seemed to do nothing for her dry throat. When she spoke again, her voice trembled.

  “It was just before junior year started. Lucas asked me out, told me to meet him at Lake Ella for our first date. There’s a tree that looks like a deer lying down with huge antlers . . . it was a popular spot for . . .” She looked at her dad. “. . . I should have known. I’m sorry.”

  “Do not apologize for him,” Grant spoke firmly.

  She looked to Elias briefly before averting her eyes. She’d never really been in the presence of an Alpha before, not like this. She felt small but not oppressed. Nicholas, she decided, didn’t count as an Alpha. Not compared to Elias. Someone looking at Shelby right now might think her to be diminutive in character or inflicted with the shyness of someone long abused. Neither true. Even Kale, this gift to the male species, showed a deference to Elias that was more than the respect of son to father.

  But when she looked up at Kale, to once again draw strength from peering into his eyes, she saw a deep, abiding anger flaring, amber flecking his irises. Her story affected him, and she decided to abridge its retelling.

  “It was my first time. Shifting, I mean. My only time as well. Lucas had two friends with him, which surprised me because, well, it seemed strange to bring your friends on a date, right? They were there for ‘moral support,’ he said, but it didn’t take long to sense the danger. They held me down while Lucas started to—”

  She cut off.

  “Sorry,” she said.

  “Shel—!” Grant said.

  But it wasn’t an apology for Lucas. She’d told herself she wouldn’t say more. And now Kale’s eyes watered. Not with sadness but a burning rage. She discerned it easily. His face glowered with a hatred that kind of frightened her. Even Elias, she could feel his agitation though much better controlled. Gennesaret radiated concern and regret, a motherly type of feeling that at first she thought was foreign to her but then recalled its familiarity.

  The last time she had felt that was before she could walk, from her own mother. She could remember that far back? No, but the feeling of it . . . apparently feelings proved more indelible than actual memories. She couldn’t remember what her mother looked like, outside of photographs, but now she realized she knew how she felt, at least to a degree.

  “When I started to shift, Lucas’s two friends freaked. I got free, and they ran. I continued to shift. I didn’t know how to stop. My eyes burned, my arms and fingers grew, legs bulged and . . . well, you know it all better than I do. It was the worst pain I’ve ever felt.

  “Lucas fell back, and I slashed out at him before I even knew what I was doing. I didn’t know what I was doing, I promise. I didn’t mean . . .”

  She cut off. Why was she apologizing?

  “She arrived home naked, wrapped in a torn sheet with blood on it, and shivering,” Grant said, picking up her narrative. “It was not a cold evening, and I know the difference between shaking from a chill and the adrenaline of battle. I didn’t know what had happened at first. The only words Shelby spoke were ‘Lake Ella,’ ‘hurt,’ and ‘Lucas.’

  “I jumped in my Blazer and raced to the lake after locking Shelby in the house and calling a neighbor to be with her. Next to the tree Shelby described to you, I found the boy passed out with a gash across his face, down his neck. Did my best to staunch the bleeding as I called an ambulance. If I had known then what I soon after discovered . . . well, I might not have been so inclined to help. When they arrived, the paramedics assumed a wild beast had attacked him.”

  “That’s true,” Shelby said, looking at no one. “I scarred him for life.”

  “That’s less than I would have done,” Kale said, his husky voice therapy to her soul. Even in the midst of relating the most traumatic experience of her life to practical strangers, she realized how much she wanted Kale. So deeply.

  Grant continued, “Lucas was in the hospital for a few days. Shelby was eventually able to tell me enough of what had happened that I knew we had to leave. I had hoped that the time had passed.”

  “I’m confused,” Elias said. “Didn’t you know your mother was a Lycan?”

  Shelby shook her head. She wished she had, but she didn’t blame her dad for withholding that from her. How would that conversation have gone, anyway? Hey, Shelby, you know how your body goes through changes during puberty, well . . .

  “Manifesting that late in puberty is very rare,” Gennesaret said. “To be an Omega who manifests that late is . . . well, some would say prophetic. Many of our kind can go a whole lifetime without meeting an Omega, never mind a Summer Omega. Every Omega is sought after and protected.”

  “By all but some,” Elias corrected. “There are some packs that would abuse an Omega, taking advantage of her docile nature.”

  “I’m not docile!” Shelby said. She looked down in self-rebuke from her outburst. “Well, maybe a little.”

  “Don’t mistake docility for weakness, dear,” Gennesaret said. “They are really not the same.”

  “She’s right,” Elias said.

  “Of course, I am, Elias. You don’t need to confirm my words, dear.”

  Whoa. She can talk like that to an Alpha? Gennesaret’s words were not spiteful, calmly spoken, but still.

  “Of course, dear,” Elias said. He winked at Shelby, as if knowing her thoughts. Did he? “Go on, Grant.”

  “Lucas’s father came to see me. A man named Sherman, someone I used to know. Once. Seems like a different lifetime.”

  “Knew him from where?” Genn asked.

  Grant hesitated. “The Delta Teams. I didn’t know Lucas was his son. I didn’t even know he lived near me. He said he was coming for me and my daughter, that he’d been waiting to see if the ‘curse’ had been passed on from my wife.”

  “How did he know about your wife?” Elias asked.

  Again, Grant hesitated. Shelby felt a ripple of something foreign in the air.

  “I don’t know,” Grant said. “I never told Shelby about her mother until she herself manifested.”

  “Dad?” Kale said, looking to Elias. “A hunter?”

  Elias ran a finger over his upper lip, his eyes distant. “Possibly.”

  “Right,” Grant said. “Let’s come to it. I’m Shelby’s father. I always will be, and I will always protect and love her. But Moriahna, my wife, made me swear that if Shelby manifested, I would find her a pack. Moriahna impressed it upon me that she would need one, no matter how much I loved her. It’s something I can’t understand, I’m told.”

  “How long have you been without a pack?” Elias asked, concern on his face. More, she sensed his concern in the air, somehow. Did she smell it?

  “Since it happened when I was sixteen. Almost a year,” Shelby said. “You’re worried about me going Feral.”

  Elias nodded.

  “I know of the Feral, but why does that happen?” Grant asked.

  “We are not sure,” Gennesaret said. “Some even choose it.”

  “But my wife, she was separated from her pack for years. She didn’t become Feral.”

  “She was a mature wolf by the time she left,” Gennesaret said. “It’s only a threat to newly manifested wolves. Though, older wolves can supposedly choose it also, if they wish.”

  “Choose it?” Shelby asked. “Why would anyone choose this? To be in wolf form permanently?”

  “It’s . . . freeing,” Kale said. “Right now you fear it. I did when I first manifested. It’s natural. But you haven’t been able to shift s
ince that night?”

  “No. Could have used it. In Odessa.” Even she could hear the regret laced with guilt in her voice. “I could have protected you,” she said to her dad.

  “Not your job, Shel.” Grant’s square jaw set tightly.

  “That’s definitely unique,” Elias said. “This inability to shift. But perhaps being with a pack can take away whatever blockage exists.”

  Grant straightened in his chair. “Are you saying you’ll accept her into your pack?”

  “Yes,” Kale said.

  Elias fixed his son with a glare and Shelby sensed the soft rebuke in it. “An Omega is valuable,” he said. “But that’s not why we would accept her. Not solely the reason, anyway.”

  “Still listening,” Grant prompted. Shelby knew her father’s military side had had enough discussion and eagerly wanted to come to the point.

  “There’s a war brewing,” Elias said reluctantly.

  “War?” Shelby asked.

  “The European packs,” Elias said. “They are being united under a single head in a movement called the Advent.”

  “It will move to the U.S. and other parts before long,” Gennesaret said. “Already some Advent agents are in parts of South America and Mexico, perhaps Canada as well. They are preparing.”

  “Genn runs our intelligence side,” Elias explained. “She has developed a communication network with many other packs.”

  “She even has ins with some satellite surveillance contractors,” Kale said. “It’s really cool!”

  So, there was a teenage boy inside that masculine body.

  “You said preparing,” Shelby said. “For what?”

  “America, behind Europe, has the largest werewolf population,” Elias said. “If the American packs can be united through the Advent with the European packs under a single head, they will be powerful enough.”

  “For?” Grant asked.

  “To take over,” Elias said. “To rule.”

  “Has there never been a united pack with a single ruler?” Grant asked.

  “No, you misunderstand,” Elias said. “I don’t mean to rule the Lycan species. I mean the world, Mr. Brooks. Humanity.”

  “What?” Shelby asked. “Why?” War with the humans? She still thought of herself as more human than Lycan.

  “Those who believe in the Advent believe we’ve hunkered in the shadows of humanity, hiding what we are. They want to walk openly in the daylight, in a manner of speaking.”

  “And those packs that don’t join them?” Shelby asked.

  Elias inhaled slowly. “That has yet to actually be seen. The Alpha of a pack is challenged by the leader of the Advent, someone who calls himself Alpha Prime. This Alpha Prime has never been defeated, and the pack of the dead Alpha is assimilated into the Advent pack.”

  “You’re worried,” Shelby said. It was not a question. She could feel it, not to mention hear it in his voice.

  “The most natural entry point for them is through Mexico, into Texas. We would be the front line. Canada as well, but fewer packs are up north to assimilate.”

  “So you don’t agree with the movement,” Grant said.

  “No,” Gennesaret said.

  “And you would resist?” Grant asked.

  Elias nodded. “We are human and wolf, not one or the other. I would resist humans trying to subvert or exterminate werewolves as well.”

  “Your guards,” Grant said. “Not mere hired security, then.”

  “The illusion of it, at least,” Elias said. “As I said, we’re preparing.”

  “Are they . . .”

  “Werewolves? Just Ackerman, head of security. He recruited most of the others. Most are former special forces.”

  “I noticed.”

  “Wait,” Shelby said. “You were telling us why you would allow me into the pack.” Did she really want that now, knowing a war was likely coming? I’m not a warrior or anything. But her dad had taught her to be, hadn’t he? Did he know about the Advent?

  “It’s related,” Elias said.

  Gennesaret perked up. “An Omega in full bloom, Shelby, can sense feelings and calm situations.”

  I already can, Shelby thought, but didn’t interrupt her. She thought of the encounter earlier with Chelsea. Well, when I want to.

  “While those Omega traits are valuable to a pack, the legend of the Summer Omega—an Omega who manifests late—says that she will be able to interpret emotions, to know when someone is lying, for example, and even project emotions to others, causing them to feel what she wants them to.”

  Shelby found her dad’s eyes, which were locked onto something and yet nothing. The distance she saw in them spanned miles.

  “Okay,” Shelby said. “But—”

  “Even see glimpses of the future,” Gennesaret finished.

  “We don’t know if you’re the Summer Omega,” Elias said. “But with a building threat at our door, we’ll take whatever advantage we can and having an Omega with us is an advantage, regardless of the legend's veracity.”

  “It is,” Gennesaret said confidently.

  Elias made a gesture with his hand, flicking it palm up, and pursed his lips. “Perhaps. She could have manifested late simply because she has a human father.”

  Gennesaret just smiled, her expression clearly saying, “I don’t think so.”

  “You would have to take both of us,” Shelby said. “My dad, too.”

  “Shel—” Grant started but was interrupted.

  “Yes,” Kale said. He looked directly into Shelby’s eyes. Just a few minutes ago, it seemed like Kale was going to try and rip her dad apart . . . or get torn apart by her dad. She wasn’t sure which would’ve happened, but now Kale was open to letting her dad in the pack?

  “That’s not possible,” Elias said. “Not as part of the pack.”

  “That is my condition,” Shelby said, finding enough backbone to look Elias in the eye. “You might be an Alpha, but he is my dad.” A wave of certainty filled the air. Her firmness on the matter radiated from her. She felt it, and she knew Elias felt it. “He already knows about werewolves and is an ally.”

  “Security,” Grant said. “Make me part of the security detail.”

  Elias rubbed his hands together, thinking.

  “I assure you I could add some steel to the ranks, sharpen a few edges,” Grant went on. “If there is a war coming, I’d prefer to be by my daughter’s side.”

  “And he’s killed werewolves before!” Shelby said.

  Elias raised his eyebrows. “I’m not sure that’s a check in the plus column.”

  “Elias, the girl wishes it,” Gennesaret said. “I don’t see any harm.”

  “Kale, you’ve been relatively quiet other than agreeing with everything Shelby has said,” Elias remarked. “Anything constructive you want to add?”

  Kale quickly typed something on his phone instead of answering.

  “Kale? Should we give you and your phone some privacy?”

  “Sorry, just had to break a date tomorrow.”

  Shelby perked up. Break a date?

  “Kale,” Elias said, somewhat irritated. “Do you have anything else to say on the matter?”

  “Just a question,” he said, now gazing at Shelby. He half-smiled, and she felt herself start to melt again. “Will you go to homecoming with me?”

  The warm evening air rushed past Shelby’s face as she rode home from dinner in the Blazer, window down. She felt like she was glowing, and checked the sideview mirror just to be sure she wasn’t. Home Coming with Kale Copeland . . . Though she didn’t glow, her eyes did shine with a gleam of . . . was that contentment? She definitely felt home when she thought of Kale. She sighed, happily, and then started preparing herself for the torrent of verbal abuse sure to come from Chelsea. Yeah, Shelby, you’re going to experience Banshee mode. She still didn’t know what that looked like.

  She replayed every moment of the dinner, savoring certain moments. Like when I nearly drowned in the emerald ocean of his ey
es. Then, her stomach groaned, but not from worries about the whorey trinity or the meal.

  “Dad, you were hesitant when talking about Lucas’s dad. And about mom.”

  “Old wounds,” Grant said.

  “Do I know everything? About mom?” Shelby asked.

  The obvious pause before his answer gave Shelby more consternation.

  “You know enough,” he answered.

  “Not everything?”

  Grant looked out his window then turned to Shelby. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Later Shelby.”

  Shelby shifted in her seat to face her father more fully. “That’s not fair. Why not now?” She hated when he did stuff like this. And often when he said “later,” he really meant “never.”

  “Because I said so.”

  “What am I? Five?”

  Grant sighed as they turned into the driveway, more a patch of gravel and dirt than pavement. “Please, Shel, just trust me. Old wounds are painful sometimes.”

  As they pulled up to the house, the Blazer’s headlights swiped across an older blue BMW Z3 with white stripes on the hood parked beneath the large moss tree. Someone was waiting on the porch, sitting on the old steps.

  “Sadie?” Shelby asked. She exited the Blazer, the door creaking as she shut it.

  The dark red-haired girl sprang up. It was past 8:30, and the sun’s last glimmers had just set.

  “Hey!” Sadie said.

  “Hi,” Shelby answered. “Dad, this is Sadie, my friend I met at tryouts today, the one I told you about.”

  “Aw, how sweet. You told your dad about me.”

  Shelby saw her dad stiffen a bit but he played it off well. “Hello,” he said. “Nice to meet you, Swearing Sadie. Thanks for being a friend to Shelby. Always tough when you move to a new town.”

  Sadie glared at Shelby. “You called me ‘Swearing Sadie’ to your dad?” She scoffed and turned to Grant. “Very nice to meet you as well.” Shelby saw her friend take him in with her eyes in the way only another girl could notice.

  “I’ll be inside, Shel,” Grant said. He smiled politely and nodded at Sadie as he ascended the steps to the front door.

 

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