© Albany Walker 2017
All rights reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living, or dead, or events is entirely coincidental.
Albany Walker
Cover design done by MG Book Covers and Designs
Formatting done by Brenda at Formatting Done Wright
Editing credit goes to a very special lady that help me beyond measure when I didn’t have anyone else to turn to. So THANK YOU!!!!
I’d like to give a huge thank you to my Mom and Dad for giving me the courage to write this book, and the feedback they gave me all along the way. Even when my Dad told me I was a good story teller, but a terrible writer. Totally true by the way my editing needs editing!
Next comes my baby girl Emmy Lou if I hadn’t been holding you in my arms for countless hours every day I never would have taken the time to put the words that crawl around in my head on paper.
Without the constant encouragement from my hubby and our three boys, who are so very proud to tell people that their Momma is a writer, I probably would have stopped perusing publication a long time ago.
To all my Academy girls that never stopped rooting for not only me but all the writers in the group, you are AMAZING.
Lastly, I’d like to thank Wattpad for giving me a place to let my words roam, and for all the readers that took time from their lives to not only read my stories, but also express to me what they thought of them.
To you, my readers
Table of Contents
Acknowledgments 3
Dedication 4
Prologue 7
Chapter 1 12
Chapter 2 21
Chapter 3 27
Chapter 4 34
Chapter 5 40
Chapter 6 44
Chapter 7 49
Chapter 8 57
Chapter 9 64
Chapter 10 72
Chapter 11 78
Chapter 12 88
Chapter 13 99
Chapter 14 108
Chapter 15 121
Chapter 16 135
Chapter 17 148
Chapter 18 164
Chapter 19 178
Chapter 20 194
Chapter 21 212
Chapter 22 222
Chapter 23 230
Chapter 24 243
Chapter 25 258
Chapter 26 269
Chapter 27 280
Chapter 28 290
Chapter 29 305
Chapter 30 316
Chapter 31 323
Chapter 32 331
Chapter 33 339
Epilogue 347
About the Author 357
Five years earlier
I smile looking up to my mom as she playfully bats my dad’s hands away from her so she can finish making my birthday cake. I’m fourteen today. Big deal right? If I’d only known then that it would be my last birthday with then I wouldn’t have whined that my Dad had surprise for me, that did not include my friends and a party.
“I know you want to hangout with your friends sweetheart but tonight give an old man a break. Let me keep the two most beautiful women all to myself,” my dad said while giving me puppy dog eyes.
I rolled my eyes. “Old man, yeah right,” I scoffed. My dad is so handsome that after age twelve every one of my friends got tongue tied if he even walked in the room. “Whatever Dad.”
“Cakes almost ready, Sophie. Go on and get ready. We have reservation at 8 o’clock,” my mom interrupts, looking as beautiful as my dad is handsome.
“Okay mom. Where are we going? Do I need to change?” I look down at my jeans and scooby doo tee shirt.
“No sweetheart you look pretty.” I run the upstairs to check my long, wavy hair for frizz and grab my phone. I have a couple text messages from friends wishing me a happy birthday and asking if was coming out later. I ignore the messages, intending to respond when I get home.
Twenty minutes later we pull up to my favorite restaurant. The downtown area of our upper middle class neighborhood is quaint. Black street lights fashioned after antique gas lamps line the relatively busy sidewalk.
There’s even an old-fashioned movie theater that still plays black and white movies that my parents like to watch on date nights and a few trendy boutiques lining the road.
As soon as I step out of the car, I feel funny, butterflies making my tummy feel sour. When we pass a small pub, the feeling intensifies. My dad notices me holding my hand over my belly and asks if I’m okay.
“Yeah, I guess I shouldn’t have had that spoonful of icing. My tummy is just a little off,” I reply, grimacing to myself about how I found my mom and dad sharing a kiss in the kitchen, so I stole the wooden spoon mom was using to decorate my cake.
Mates! I think with an eye roll. My parents were lucky enough to find each other not all shifters do. The few that do find their mates live out their lives with the other half, content that they have the other piece of their soul beside them. Unfortunately, the rest make due hoping that one day it will be their turn.
At dinner, my belly seems to calm. We eat, laugh, and eat some more while the men at the grill sing happy birthday to me. My cheeks light like lamps as every head turns to stare at our table. Looking down, I finish my meal quickly, embarrassed from the attention.
After dinner, we decide to walk up the street and get ice cream. I leave my parents, lost in each other sitting on a bench sharing a cone, and go grab my sweatshirt from the car.
“Hurry back sweetheart,” Dad says while pulling mom closer.
Back at the car, my tummy churns again. Agh “What is wrong with me?”
The door to the pub opens, and the butterflies explode in my stomach, causing me to suck in a gasp. The scent of forest, frost, and leather hits me first. Holy biscuits, that smells good. I won’t shift for two more years, but my body knows what the smell effecting me so profoundly means. Mate. A man rounds the door and stops dead in his tracks.
My eyes rise and rise to meet his. The shadows keep the details hidden, but his strong jaw and large frame tell me he is much older than me. After what seems like years passing, he takes one step closer and clinches his fists. Dark hair falling just past his ears blows back from his rugged face showing me his scruffy jaw tensing repeatedly. Fear lashes at me not from this man but from not knowing what’s next. I’ve never heard of a mates meeting so young. It’s happens after the first shift, not before.
“Mate,” he utters so deep and quietly that I almost miss it, but his voice soothes my nerves.
The door opens again as a group of boisterous men and women stumble out. Only seconds have passed when a gorgeous blonde grabs his arm and slides her hand into his looking at him with love clearly written on her face. He doesn’t push her away nor does he look away from me. We stand frozen as the world moves around us.
One of the men slaps him on the back and says, “Mase, you missed it man. Roxanne just slapped that girl that kept staring at you all night.”
He turns to the man that was just speaking, and the spell is broken. I look down, rubbing my hands across my belly not sure what’s happening when the same man speaks again, “Who’s the little lady?” Head cocked to the side like he’s trying to figure me out. By this time, I have everyone in the group’s attention. Stepping back from the weight of their stares, I fumble with the sweatshirt I retrieved from the car.
The blonde woman sli
ts her eyes at me and asks “Mase?”
“No one,” he growls. The ache in my stomach instantly moves to my chest hollowing it out.
No one, I repeat in my head.
“I almost ran into her when I came out just making sure she’s okay,” He grates.
“She looks great to me,” the other man says as his eyes run up and down my body making me squirm. A low rumble sounds, and everyone freezes turning to him.
“Don’t,” my mate says. To me, to them? I’m not sure. Everyone in the group is still frozen staring at him, except for her. She looks to me. I would run if my feet would let me, to him or away from her I don’t know that either.
“What’s your name little girl,” she spits like a viper.
I open my mouth to reply when I hear my father call, “Sophia.” I turn to his voice and hear from behind me, “let’s go. Now!” Spoken like a curse from my would be mate.
My mom and dad reach me seconds later, asking if I was okay and why I never came back.
“I’m not feeling well, Dad,” I say, and it’s no lie. The hollow ache in my chest intensifies as I rub just above my heart.
“Okay sweetheart, let’s get you home,” he says looking to my mom questionably. We turn toward the car when I see him holding the woman’s hand; Roxanne, I’m guessing. They’re almost around the corner. He doesn’t look back once before walking out of my life.
Two weeks later my parents are dead, and I’m alone.
“Piss off,” I mumble acerbically as I drag my bags up to my new front door. The condo I just purchased is right on Main Street. When I look out my front windows, I see Torch Lake with its crystal clear water and beautiful, sandy beach. My kindle and I dream about that beach.
About a half mile down, I see small, tourist shops and a few smaller restaurants. In the opposite direction is the Hair of the Dog Bar, crazy name right? The four men leaving the bar are just as crazy, shouting at me about the beauty of my ass while I lug my stuff up the walk. Throwing my bags through the open, front door, I turn and give them a two finger salute. They laugh and coo like it’s foreplay. “Jackasses!” Slamming the door, I put my back to it and slide down.
I’m home. I haven’t had a home in five years, not one that felt like home anyway. “Not now, Sophie,” I say out loud. I’ve already had all my new furnishings delivered. After a few adjustments to the kitchen, I have just my personal stuff to unpack. An hour later, I’m done and drinking a big cup of coffee to celebrate. Today is Wednesday, my nineteenth birthday is Saturday, and my first day as a college student is Monday. I can’t believe I’ve finally made it to this point.
Michigan is new to me. I’ve always lived in some random Kentucky city. One of the first things I noticed about my new home, at least for the next few years, is all the lakes with beautiful beaches. I came for the small, private college located just a few blocks from my new condo. Why did I pick this college, you ask? Well, it all started with the name, Hope. Hope College in Point Pleasant, Michigan, cool right. That’s something I need, hope. So here I am.
The death of my parents orphaned me. With no family to speak of and being too young to be on my own, I, and underage shifter, ended up in foster care with humans. The first home I went to wasn’t so bad; I think they knew I had money and thought they could get it. I wasn’t there for very long before they figured out there was no pot of gold with this rainbow. My second home was horrible; the third night the woman, Beth, backhanded me for speaking at the table. I’d never even been spanked by my parents. Things escalated quickly. I think the worst was listing to the other kids get hit. I hadn’t shifted, yet, but was still stronger than your average fourteen year old. More often than not, I would get myself into trouble to distract the Check Cashers from the other kids. Some hated me for it, but for the most part, they didn’t understand why I’d do it. I don’t always understand it myself.
After I shifted for the first time, things became easier and harder all at once. I healed even quicker and was able to fight back better, but I needed much more privacy. There were times I only shifted once a month, just barely enough to let my wolf run. I had to learn to control her alone and quickly.
I don’t remember how many nights I wished my parents lived in a pack so I would have been taken in, cared for by my own people, but they lived off the grid as they called it. I never knew why they never hid things from me; they just didn’t live long enough to tell me everything.
I did know it wasn’t safe to seek a pack alone as an under age or un-shifted wolf. I could easily become someone’s property. Dealing with the humans was bad enough.
I never did tell me parents I met my mate that night all those years ago. Maybe if I had things would have been different, they could have explained to me why he left, helped me understand what to do with the rest of my life. We assume there will time to tell the people we love the secrets we keep, whether from embarrassment or just thinking there will be time tomorrow. Hindsight is twenty-twenty and all that.
When they first died, I was sure my mate would come for me. Every night, I would dream of him saving me. I even held out hope that after my first shift he would find me. Those thoughts evaporated when one of my dad’s tried to rape me not long after I turned seventeen. I walked away that night with the hope of a Prince Charming coming to save me gone. My foster dad didn’t walk away that night. In fact, I don’t think he’ll ever walk again.
As soon as I turned eighteen and could get to the money my parents left me, I was gone. I lived in a small apartment and finished high school. I took every self defense and martial arts class available, making sure I’d never be a victim again.
Hello pity party, table for one. I need a distraction, stat. Grocery store, here I come. Hours later, I’m loading the back of my white, vintage Jeep Wrangler with everything from a broom, vacuum, and cleaning supplies to all the groceries I could fit into the second cart. I love to cook, and it shows. Since I’ve been on my own over the past year, my hips, butt, and boobs thank me for not starving. I’m still short, just not as wiry as I used to be. My long, dark hair catches on the roll cage as I shove everything in. The broom and mop handle stick straight up out the top.
As I pull from the parking lot, I catch a scent of another shifter; it’s the first shifter I’ve smelled since my parents passed. I’m so taken aback I gun the engine before anyone can scent me.
“Shit, shit, shit!” I slam my hands on the wheel as I pull into my parking space. I don’t know how to deal with other shifters. I knew I might run into one eventually, just not this soon. I don’t know why my parents kept us away from others; I just know that a rogue shifter can be considered a threat. Am I a rogue? I don’t even know.
I quickly bring my supplies in and put everything away, unsuccessfully trying to forget about my almost meet and greet.
Thursday and Friday pass with little fan fair. On Saturday, I make myself a pineapple upside-down cake and buy a few new books for my birthday. Exciting, I know.
Then, I hit the beach. There are a few families with small children. It’s not very busy considering it’s the last week before school; most of the tourist fugees, the town people’s name for tourist, are gone.
My blanket is warm from the sand and sun, and I can feel the cool breeze blowing in from the lake. I keep my cut off shorts and tank top on while I read. Completely relaxed, I roll on my belly before turning on some music.
I must have started to doze; before I’m fully awake, I feel someone near me. I can hear them breathing. My heart speeds, and my fight or flight response kicks in. Before I move, I feel him inhale at my neck; I freeze.
“She smells so fucking good man. Do you smell that?”
I open my eyes before whoever he’s talking to can get near me and roll out from under him. His arm flies out when I move; caught off guard, he falls to my blanket where I was just lying. I’m on my feet and ready to run before he can blink.
“Shit, she’s fast. How the hell you do that?” Another voice asks from my ri
ght.
Keeping both of them in sight while I look for more of them, I raise my hands and back away in the universal “I don’t want any trouble” gesture. Sniffer is now getting up and looking at me like I’m a wild animal.
“It’s okay, love. I’m not going to hurt you. Are you okay? Don’t run, okay. I’m Casper, and this here is Michael. Are you new here?” He tilts his head “I haven’t seen you before. Are you here for vacation or school?”
My brain is going a millions miles a minute. They’re both shifters; I can smell them. Will they report me to the local pack? Is there a local pack? What do I do? They’re both just staring at me. Neither of them are acting like I’m in trouble. Should I just go with it?
“I’m sorry I scared you. What’s your name love?”
Love, why the hell does he keep calling me Love? “Sophia,” I say, still far enough away that I can run if I need to. I answer him a little breathlessly, “yeah, sorry...I was sleeping? I guess you startled me.”
Relaxing his stance, he says again, “yeah sorry about that,” rubbing the back of his neck like he might be embarrassed. His friend is still looking at me funny, so I relax and try to play it off as if I was just caught off guard. Smiling, I chuckle, hoping they can’t tell how fake it is.
“So, Sophia, are you on vacation?” His eyes sparkle as he ogles me from top to toe.
“Yeah...ahh, I mean no. I’m starting classes at Hope on Monday. You guys on vacation?” I question pointing between the two of them. Michael still hasn’t looked away from my face; his brow is drawn like he’s thinking very hard.
The Sniffer or Casper responds, “no, we’re local boys,” with a smirk that I’m sure he’s seen lots of action from. He’s not hard to look at, but I haven’t found one man appealing in five years. Tough break, my mate rejected me, and I’m still stuck on stupid, anyway.
Michael finally speaks, “how’d you move so fast?”
I shrug my shoulders and answer honestly, “no idea. Fear, I guess.”
“Have I seen you before? Something about you seems familiar.” Michael asks.
Becoming His Page 1
