by Jen Talty
Her father placed a firm hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. “You claimed me when I was five? How the hell would you even know I was the girl for you?”
“It was fated, like Jackson and your sister,” her father said in that deep tone he’d used when he’d been disappointed. “We don’t necessarily know why, but there is purpose to your mating. Nothing you can do to stop it.”
“Sure, there is,” Darrell said as he stood, facing her father with a puffed-out chest. “She can reject the imprint. It won’t kill either one of us.”
“But you’ll be miserable for the rest of your lives.” Her father had always told her that happiness and love were the greatest commodities in the world. When you were blessed with them, you should never let them go.
“And that brings us back to why I’m here. We won’t get the chance to find out if we are compatible if I’m dead,” Darrell said.
She covered her mouth, hoping to muffle the gasp. In the grand scheme of things, the imprinting thing could wait.
“Avery, I think it’s best if you go to another room. Your mother is in the kitchen,” her father said.
“Nope. No way. I’m staying since this does affect me.”
“No, you’re not.” Her father pointed toward the hallway. “If I need you, I’ll call you, got it?”
“Dad, since we all now know that—”
“Can I have a minute with Avery, please?” Darrell stood, resting his hand on the small of her back. The familiarity of it melted the anger into tiny pieces of forgettable angst.
“Sure,” her father said.
She took Darrell by the hand and led him into the main dining room, closing the door.
Resting her hip against the table, she folded her arms, even though she wanted to wrap them around him, pressing her lips on his, feeling his velvet tongue twirl around in her mouth.
“I’m sorry you had to find out about the imprinting that way.”
“I’m more pissed you told my father before me,” she said, her words laced with the venom of a snake.
“I didn’t want to tell him, but he suspected and called me on it, wondering if you knew.” Darrell pressed his hands on the back of a chair, his dark eyes pleading with her to forgive him.
But what was there to forgive? Fated mates were destined to be together. Their bond stronger than any others.
True love.
“When did you plan on telling me?”
“I don’t honestly know. If I wasn’t faced with my entire pack being wiped out, I probably would have after a couple of dates, but most wolves I know who mated by imprint, their mates knew as they fell in love.”
“But you’re already in love with me.” She swallowed her breath, clearing her throat. “Based on what I’ve read.”
He smiled, and it made her heart skip.
“Love needs time to develop, so while deep in my soul it’s true, we don’t know each other very well and if your father can figure this shit out, maybe we’ll have a chance.” He took a few steps closer. The heat from his muscles coated her body. “The day we danced, my life changed. Everything I did was leading up to the moment I could walk back into your life.”
“Why’d you wait so long?” She chomped down on her tongue, wishing she hadn’t asked the question. It implied she wished he had come for her sooner. “I mean, you could have contacted me at any time.”
He reached out, taking her chin between his thumb and index finger. “You’re the best dancer I’ve ever had the privilege of being paired with.”
“I was five. I’m sure there were other principal dancers—”
He gently brushed his lips over hers like a paintbrush making the first stroke on a canvas. “No one has ever been better than you, which is why I’m concerned about your knee and ankle.”
She pursed her lips, knowing it also scrunched her nose. A look she wasn’t fond of. “I told you, it’s overuse.”
“You know there is something wrong, and I fear it has to do with me.”
“Why do you say that?”
He ran the back of his hand across her cheek. “Is it a cold, sharp pain?”
She opened her mouth, but no words came out. The cold sensation in her knee started a few months ago. It came and went, but lately, it had increased in intensity.
“I have that same feeling in all my joints. My father, near the end, the pain was so excruciating, and nothing the doctors gave him helped. We need to find out if what you’re experiencing is in any way related to this spell.”
“Wait a minute. You imprinted on me while we were dancing, right?”
He nodded. “It’s not like I had much control over it, and while it made me happier than I’d ever been in my life, it scared me a little.”
“Did you tell anyone?”
“I spoke to my dad about it,” Darrell said, dropping his hands to her hips.
Instinctively, she leaned into him. “What did he say?” A wave of sadness coated her heart. She’d never get to meet his father.
“That when it happens that way, so young, it means something important and that you were one special, young woman.”
She closed her eyes as he kissed her forehead, circling his arms around her waist. Inhaling deeply, she let his wolf scent of freshly chopped wood seep into her bloodstream. That smell had mesmerized her years ago, but she’d been a child and didn’t understand why it made her feel so good inside.
“Wait.” She cocked her head back, blinking. “If my pain is from this spell, my father would be able to tell that… come on.” She took him by the arm and scurried off toward the living room.
“No. I don’t want him to worry about you.”
“He’s already worried, and he’s risking his life and powers for me because he believes royal witches have fated mates much like wolves do. He’s a romantic old sap, and he’ll do anything to make sure his girls have what he and my mother have. Besides, this might make it so he doesn’t have to peel back your inner aura.”
“That really doesn’t sound appealing.”
She let out a short laugh. “He still might have to do it.” She glanced over her shoulder. “But if what I suspect is true, he’ll know the right location.”
“Still doesn’t sound like fun.”
“Dad.” She stepped into the living room where her dad sat in his big chair, reading a magazine, waiting patiently. “Where’s Jackson?”
“Helping Mom move some furniture around so she can set up a crib. She thinks her grandchild will be staying over, often.”
Avery couldn’t wait for her sister to give birth, but right now, she had other things to deal with. “We need you to cast a matching spell.”
“Why?” Her father peered over his reading glasses.
“Because I think I’m infected by the spell because he imprinted on me all those years ago.”
Her father bolted upright. “Hold hands.”
She held up their already intertwined fingers.
Her father reached for a small box on the coffee table. “Out of the cauldron and into this case, bring a single spell into this space. Cast it back if not a match, but if it is, mix it for a batch.”
Darrell squeezed her hand as his body trembled. The coldness in her leg increased. She gritted her teeth as a tearing sensation lifted from her knee, floating into the box. A larger one popped out of Darrell’s chest. He let out a low growl.
“I have good news, and I have bad news,” her father said as he stuck his finger in the box, swirling it around.
“The bad news is what’s happening to me and my pack is also happening to Avery.”
“Yeah, that’s bad.” Her father set the box on the coffee table and continued to peer inside, moving it around, breaking it apart.
“How? Why?” Darrell asked as he tugged her to the sofa. “She’s not a wolf, and it seems to be only happening to males.”
Her body weakened from the spell, she caved into the soft cushions, rubbing her knee.
“That brings me
to the good news.” Her father closed the box, sealing a piece of the spell. “First, I can probably match it to the coven.”
“Since you have it, can’t you do some hocus pocus and reverse it?” Darrell asked.
“It’s locked, so no, I can’t. But whoever cast this spell did so on the day Darrell claimed you as his mate.”
“Someone from the dance studio?” She blinked, remembering all the girls that glared at her that day. Deep down, she knew they all hated her. Sure, some tried to be nice, but during her entire career, others had been jealous. She’d learned to smile and ignore the looks and block out what everyone said about her behind her back. “That certainly narrows down the suspects.”
“It does, but whoever did this is either dead or dying,” her father said, rubbing his temples.
Not a good sign when her dad did that.
“Why do you say that?” Darrell asked.
“This is a spell that wipes out an entire bloodline by increasing the aging process. It’s doing the same thing to them, but quicker.”
“I don’t understand that part,” Darrell said, his hand resting on her knee, gently massaging, as if he knew exactly where the pain was. “Why cast a spell that will do the same thing to you?”
“If a child did this, he or she might not have known. But their coven would have to because this witch would have immediately aged and died shortly thereafter, and it would be happening to every witch, so with each death of theirs, one would die of yours.”
“Why did it start with my father and not me?” Darrell asked.
“I don’t know, but this coven found a way to keep the witch alive until recently because it took years for it to start happening to your pack, which means, they are probably doing that same thing with everyone who is getting sick,” her father said.
“We need to find this coven and their Book of Shadows so my father can unlock it and banish the spell.”
“I don’t understand why this coven wouldn’t do that themselves, since they are dying, too.”
“They can’t.” She curled her fingers over Darrell’s hand. “Only my father can unlock a Book of Shadows and if they were to go to him, he’d have to strip all of them of their powers, forever.”
Her father stood, taking the box in his hands. “I’ll work on seeing if I have enough of this spell that will tell me what coven we’re dealing with, while you two get me a list of every witch that was at that studio that day, focusing on anyone who might have it in for either of you. Then we need to find out who went missing, got sick, or is dead.”
Chapter 4
Darrell stood in the doorway to Avery’s bedroom, though it was more like a suite than your basic place to rest your head at night. Her father’s private words bounced around in his mind, haunting him.
I want you and Avery to stay here with us until we can break this spell. Stick by her side. You’re both going to need each other.
Had he been able to control his imprinting, he wouldn’t be responsible for her pending doom.
“Shut the door,” Avery called as she dumped her bag on a chair by a sliding glass door that led to a patio overlooking the pool.
Growing up, he hadn’t been poor by any means, but he had never lived like this.
“This room is bigger than my entire apartment,” she said, pushing open the doors, letting a cool breeze float across the curtains.
“I’m living in a hotel until I find something between the city and where the majority of my pack lives.” He ran his fingers across the back of the coastal-blue fabric of the sofa.
“Did you reach your mom?” Avery asked.
He nodded. “Everything is the same. No one seems to be getting any worse, yet.”
“My dad is wicked smart and a great warlock, he’ll have no problem figuring all this out.” She pulled out a laptop and situated herself on the sofa. “Come sit. You’re making me nuts, and we can’t do anything until we hear back from Gabe.”
“There are only a few names on that list that I even remember.” He rested his feet on the coffee table, keeping his hands in his lap, ignoring the deep-seated desire boiling in his stomach. “What are you doing?”
She tapped away on the keyboard. “Googling the names on the list Miss Tammy gave us. I’m sure they all have some sort of social media presence, except the one who did this.”
He leaned over her shoulder, sucking in her peach scent. It reminded him of a dry, white wine on a summer night at the beach with a salty breeze rolling in from the ocean. “I remember that one,” he said, tapping on the screen. “She was pretty good.”
“Looks like she’s working on Broadway as a choreographer.”
“In that class, there were only a couple of solid dancers who had a promising career, but most were at best, good teachers in the making.”
“Except Regan Wilcox. She was a snot and a half.”
“Who was she?”
“She was the oldest girl in the class, and it was her last shot, and I took the spot.” Avery shifted the screen, showing an archived image from the dance studio. She pointed to a tall girl standing in the back. “That’s Regan.”
“I remember her. We took classes together when I first came to the studio. That day, when I left, she was in the bushes. No idea why, figured maybe she was smoking or something and thought she could hide it. That girl was weird.”
“Wait. What?” Avery’s fingers paused, hovering over the computer. “She was where?”
“Remember those big, purple bushes in the back parking lot?”
Avery nodded.
“I’d seen her hide back there a few times over the years and once or twice, I’d see a puff of smoke. I thought it was one of those e-cigs. Gross habit.”
“Did you see it that day?”
“I don’t recall. I remember waving good-bye to you, noticing her, which gave me a sudden chill, and then I got into my parents’ car.”
“I got a chill that day, too,” she whispered as she pressed a button. “It was Regan.”
“How can you be so sure?”
She turned the computer screen. “Because there is nothing about her anywhere. No social media. Nothing except one mention from the studio archives.”
He reached for his phone. “Let’s call Miss Tammy and see if she knows what happened to her.” Tammy had been gracious enough to give them a list of students from that year, so he hoped she’d be willing to share whatever she could about Regan.
“Hi, Darrell,” Miss Tammy said as he hit the speaker button. “Twice in one day. I’m flattered. Does this mean you’ve given some thought to making an appearance and have you talked to Avery about it?”
“I’m sure we can arrange something in the future,” he said, lacing his fingers around Avery’s, caving to his desire to feel her smooth skin. “I was hoping you could tell me whatever came of Regan Wilcox.”
“Regan? That’s a name I haven’t heard in years. Why do you want to know about her?”
“I can’t really get into that, but I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important, and we can’t find anything on the internet about her.”
“The only thing I can tell you is that she quit when she didn’t make the company. Her parents showed up a few days after the audition and informed me that Regan, nor her sister, would be returning. I haven’t heard from or seen any of them since.”
“Thank you, Miss Tammy. Avery and I will get back to you with a couple of dates that might work for us.”
“Thank you so much. I was thrilled to see you’d taken the job with the Los Angeles City Ballet and working with Avery. I wish we had videotaped that audition. It was so moving.”
“In more ways than one.” He smiled as he pulled Avery closer. “Talk soon.” He ended the call and tossed his cell to the cushion next to him. Tracing her lower lip with his finger, he leaned closer.
“Darrell,” she said in that soft, sweet voice that started a fire deep in his gut.
“Shhhh. We’re alone, and I want one kiss.”
> She pressed her hand on the center of his chest, her fingers grazing his skin with the kind of heat only lovers shared. Her strawberry-blond hair bounced over her shoulder, curling at the ends.
He cupped her chin as her long lashes fluttered over her eyes. When their mouths met, his pulse raced as if he’d been running in the woods for hours. She tasted like cinnamon and sugar. He wanted to savor her sweetness for as long as he could.
One kiss.
For now.
“We need to call my father,” she whispered, resting her forehead against his, letting out a long sigh.
“I know.” Selfishness had been something he struggled with most of his life. He wanted to be a dancer and a choreographer, and sometimes he felt like he’d put his family out because of it.
Now he’d stolen a kiss when they should be racing to tell her father what they’d uncovered.
“I don’t know how I feel about this.” She rubbed her thumb across his cheek, and then dropped her hand to her lap. “To be honest, you imprinting on me when I was five is not only weird, but what would have happened if I had fallen in love with someone else?”
“You could still be with someone other than me. It’s not like I own you or anything.”
“But you claimed me as your mate.”
“According to my species, we were destined to be together. That our souls are connected on a deeper level, but I’ve met wolves who have imprinted, and it didn’t work out. Also, you have to remember that we know when we imprint, but when it happens that young, it fades as if it were a dream, until our mate is put in front of us and we realize the connection again.”
“Why wouldn’t it work out?” Her nose wrinkled.
He fought the urge to bat it with his thumb. “Sometimes when it’s with a non-wolf, and the other creature doesn’t believe in fated mates, or is prejudice, there could be too much to overcome.”
“Can the wolf find love, if that were to happen?”
That wasn’t a question he wanted to answer truthfully. He didn’t want to pressure her that way, but lying wouldn’t be a good way to start things, considering everything else that was going on. “It’s not ideal, but once the imprinting is rejected, they can find a suitable mate in other ways.”
