by Tamar Sloan
The deed done, the Weres begin to disperse. Some have a long drive home. One family will have one less member in their car, which is something none of us wanted to see. Tara would have found this Council particularly difficult. I’ve seen what the loss of a member can do to a family, but she’s had to live it.
I look at the Tate Alpha, knowing it’s a tough choice to live with. I look at the rest of the Weres disappearing down the path. A choice that needs to be made for the safety of all.
Seth is the last to leave, following the procession across the green grass. As he walks past me, he sees me watching. His hazel gaze grabs mine and doesn’t back down, not that I expected it to. He leans in as he approaches me. “The Tate Alpha is right.” Surprise has my eyebrows wanting to head for the canopy. “Our children do deserve better.”
A few of the Weres in front of him stiffen, a couple look down. One or two look at each other. They all heard what he said.
I tilt my chin up, looking at him hard, making sure my voice is just as sure. “Yes, they do.”
I don’t break my gaze from Seth’s retreating back. Letting anyone who may still be watching know how solid my belief is.
But it’s all a show. Because here, inside the wide-open world of the Glade, the place where magic hangs and time stands still, I feel the trees move in. My eyes move around the closely packed sentries, the dozens of Weres flowing past me, feeling the weight of something sinking through my chest, settling in my gut. I purposely don’t look at the Precept rock.
A handful of Alphas are left behind. Mom and Dad, Mitch and Tara, John and his Alpha mate, and me.
John scratches his chin. “It’s not a good day when a choice like that has to be made.”
I sigh. “You did what needed to be done, John.”
John’s green eyes catch mine. We now have something in common. Living with the decision of banishment.
Dad’s eyes squint a little, looking very chief-of-police. “What I’m wondering is who was holding the camera.”
Mom’s eyes widen. “Daniel wasn’t alone.”
Tara’s eyes are just as large. “How many others are there?”
We all quieten as we digest it all.
Daniel’s words. Seth’s actions. Rules and law are slowly being eroded.
Dad is stroking his lip. “There was some truth to Daniel’s words.”
I spin around. “You’re kidding, right?”
John has crossed his arms. “He’s right. Things are changing.” He turns to Dad. “There’s more unrest than we thought.”
I cross my arms, too, but I doubt John has the same feeling slithering in his belly. “The last Precept has started something.”
Tara shakes her head. “I think it may have fanned the flames of something that was already there.”
I rub my own lip, not entirely convinced. It’s inevitable that she would think of Kurt here, today.
With my head tilted down, I get to see Tara’s shoes shift in the grass. “Maybe we do need a Prime Alpha.”
I don’t scowl, although I really want to. I’m getting tired of the Prime Alpha talk. “He’s not the answer to our problems. What is he going to do?”
Tara looks at me squarely. “Well, I could sure use some backup.”
I deflate, because that wretched feeling isn’t in my gut any longer. It simultaneously sinks and expands like a black balloon. Heading to my feet and anchoring me in the too-small Glade, compressing my chest from the inside out.
The way Mitch is looking at me doesn’t help. His eyes are screaming so loud I want to cover my ears. I can translate every single word that is being hurled in my direction.
I turn away, lifting heavy feet and dragging my pounding brain, heading for the car.
I will not choose.
16
Eden
I’ve had to wait long, anxious hours to get some answers. We can’t email or even text about it, seeing as Weres keep everything off record. And we certainly can’t talk about it at school. All through Biology, Math, Chem, English, I did little but fiddle with my pen, jiggle my leg. And just to draw out time, I had two frees. Noah was all smiles and grins like everything was normal. Mitch was even more serious, if that was possible. Tara got to be the buffer between her two best friends.
Then we had to drop off Dana like we always do. Today the bright, substance-less chatter had my teeth on edge. I had to tell myself it’s not Dana’s fault. She already knows everything that happened.
Then we had afternoon tea with Adam and Beth. Beth, bright and welcoming, like I’m part of the family. Adam, reserved and polite, like you would expect with a visitor. The warring halves of my heart represented in Noah’s dark-haired mother and carbon-copy father.
It’s well into the afternoon when we finally sit under Grandfather Douglas. Noah rests against his grooved bark, my back against his front, his arms and legs circling me. Mitch leans back, long legs stretched before him as Tara curls into his side, one leg slung over his. The spring winds rustle through the porcupine branches above us, blowing my hair in my face. Before I get a chance, Noah’s fingers brush it away. Like he knows I wear it down for him, even though it drives me nuts.
I grab his hand, brushing his fingers with my lips in thanks. His hand squeezes my own. “How did it go?”
I feel Noah’s chest expand and deflate. “Daniel wasn’t very apologetic. He’s been banished.”
“Oh.” I know what Daniel did was serious. I’ve seen the clip. But I know what it’s like to be someone who’s not quite the same as everyone else. To try and fit in somewhere you don’t. That’s about to become Daniel’s life.
I pick up a pine needle, all dry and brown, twirling it in my fingers. Its motion mimics the sensation I can feel churning behind me. “He did it on purpose?”
Mitch grabs a handful of needles, crushing them in his palm. “He said it’s time we stop hiding.”
“You’re not serious!”
Mitch looks up. His eyes have never been more serious.
Noah lets out a breath, fanning my hair. “Yeah, this darned Prophecy is getting everyone edgy.”
That’s not edgy. That’s Precept-breaking talk. “Well, what does the Prime Alpha do?”
I feel Noah shake his head behind me. “There’s no job description.”
“What does it have the potential to do?”
“Nothing new from what I can tell. Every pack already has an Alpha.”
I see Mitch move, leaning a little to the side, his head dropping down to brush Tara’s. All I can see is his scrunched brow, the tense mouth. His face says he doesn’t agree, but I’m not sure with which bit. His blue eyes look up. “What do you think it all means, Eden?”
I stop mid-twirl. Why would he ask me? “Ah, I’m not sure.”
Tara turns a little in Mitch’s arms. “C’mon Edes, you’ve seen the rock, you’ve seen the clip. What’s your opinion?”
“Doesn’t everything happen for a reason with you guys?”
Noah grunts behind me, and I’m not exactly sure what that means.
“Well, what does the Prophecy predict?”
“Again, no-one knows.” For some reason, I know Noah is staring at Mitch.
Mitch doesn’t drop his gaze. “He’s the Were to rule all Weres.”
Noah snorts like he’s heard that one before. “And then what?”
Mitch points a pine-needle in our direction. “Well, I’m not sure Daniel is reconsidering his actions. And a lot of people saw his lack of remorse, heard his sentiments.”
Tara flops a little, her rounded back folding into Mitch. “And Seth agreed with him.”
I think of Seth’s passive-aggressive defiance. “So, he’s some kind of law enforcer?”
Noah is shaking his head again. “The last thing we need is some super-dude running around being the firm paw of the law.”
I smile a little at Noah’s joke and feel his arms tighten around me. Then the smile fades when I remember Kurt. I don’t look at Tara as the wor
ds he said, so chilling and angry, rise in my mind…I had plans, a destiny to be something more than just an Alpha.
I think of the stilted explanation Noah had given me in the car home from the Glade. His denial that the Prime Alpha was needed. “What would you want him, or her, to do?”
Tara gives me a fist to the air in feminist solidarity.
But Mitch isn’t in the mood for social statements. “Stand up and lead, for starters,” he growls.
“And then what?”
Tara stares off into space. “He would give us something to stand for.”
I think about that. Weres seemed so peaceful, content with living their lives, secret but connected to their kin. Now that seems to be changing, and with the door of possibility being forcibly opened, a world of opportunities awaits.
“How do you decide who’s going to do it?”
At this question, Tara leans forward. “I think he’s already been chosen.”
“Why do you say that?”
“It makes sense. The final Precept wouldn’t appear without him”—Tara winks at me—“or her, being chosen. Otherwise, the challenge of who is going to be Prime Alpha would be an almighty fight.”
By people like Kurt. Or Seth. Or maybe even Daniel.
“Then why hasn’t he stepped up?”
Tara shrugs. “Maybe she doesn’t know.”
Mitch has another handful of pine needles being pulverized to dust in his hand. “Maybe he doesn’t care.”
Noah stiffens. “Maybe he’s waiting for something.”
Like what?
Mitch arches a brow, blue eyes on me again. “What would you do?”
My own brows hike up. “Me?”
“Sure, you’ve asked the most intelligent, unbiased questions so far. What would you do?”
I bite my lip. Noah has gone very still behind me.
Weres are a powerful species. But is their strength in their raw power? I think of the big heart I can practically feel beating against my back, of Noah’s patience and protectiveness. Of Mitch’s steadiness and passion, of Tara’s bubbly, nurturing spirit. Telling me there is more to Weres than their animal strength.
And is their power better off in the open? Exposing themselves is a dangerous sentiment. The consequences unimaginable. Wouldn’t it be more useful behind the scenes?
I suppose it depends on what they’re working toward.
I shrug; I know what I would do if I was a leader. “Make a difference.”
Noah’s arms tighten around me. “How?”
I shrug again. “That, I don’t know. But give people, or Weres, a purpose they believe in, and they will follow.”
Silence descends again. No one speaks. Noah is quiet behind me, and I can feel a kaleidoscope of emotions churning back there. They’re difficult to distinguish, but they feel faintly hopeful, maybe a confusing sense of pride. Mitch is looking at me like he’s rearranging some stuff in his head.
I don’t mind. This is the most open conversation I’ve had with them. The most inclusive one. Warmth spreads through my chest, matching the heat behind me.
I look to Tara to see what she’s thinking, just as she springs to her feet. “Why don’t we go for a swim?”
I arch a brow. It seems Tara has moved on.
Hang on a sec, a swim? The water will be freezing! I turn to look over my shoulder, to see what Noah thinks of the idea. But Noah is looking at Mitch, who is watching him right back.
Noah shakes his head. “Nah, it’s not warm enough.”
“What? We always go swimming this time of the year.”
“Yeah, but Eden would turn into a Popsicle.”
“Swimming is a great spectator sport.” I wouldn’t mind watching Noah swimming, tracts of body exposed, especially that chest that I never get to see, water running down his smooth skin…
Another glance passes between Noah and Mitch. “Yeah, I don’t feel like it either.”
Tara’s hands are on her hips. “No twin talk, you two. Share it with the group.”
“Twin talk?”
“Yeah, those two communicating between themselves. It used to drive me nuts.” Those hazel eyes narrow. “It still does.”
I suppose Tara is entitled to demand open and honest communication.
Mitch flushes, looking down to pick up his own pine needle. “I just don’t feel like swimming.”
Those hazel eyes narrow another smidgen. “Mitch Phelan, you’re half wolf, half dolphin.”
Noah jumps in, almost like he’s rescuing his brother. “We could go for a walk, see how they’re doing with the foundations for the house.”
Mitch stands up, eyes alive with enthusiasm. “Hey, yeah. Another couple of weeks and the frame will be up.”
Tara’s lips turn down for a moment, and I wonder if she’s going to call them out. “Fine, but we go next week.”
Another look passes between the two brothers. Mitch shrugs, “Sure, although finals are coming up.”
I stand, and Noah follows. He seems intent on brushing off the pine needles that stick like Velcro. Then he grabs my hand without quite looking me in the eye.
Tara is already moving away from Grandfather Douglas. “So, should I be worried I could get lost in one of these foundation holes?”
Noah finds another pine needle and flicks it at Tara. “Probably, I’d say they’re deeper than three feet.”
“Zip it, Alpha heir.”
We head to the clearing, the banter lighter than I’ve seen it in a while. Even Mitch is joking about his rise to Alphadom.
I manage to laugh but can’t quite bring myself to contribute. That look that passed between Noah and Mitch, their ‘twin talk’ moment, hangs on, refusing to leave.
And now it’s here; I can’t deny its implication.
Because despite the deep connection I have with Noah, maybe because so much passes between us, another revelation lines up beside the others.
Noah is keeping secrets.
17
Noah
Why are all universities pale and square? Big cream buildings with rows of big square windows overlooking big rectangles of uniform grass.
I think it’s to make them look scholarly and intimidating.
Well, architects seem to have a good understanding of the human psyche, because Wyoming State manages to do a little of both.
The main building, bigger and more cream than the others, sits in the center of a square, all formidable and I’m-so-important. Green and white banners, you never get away from pine trees in Wyoming, hang from the second floor for the open day. At least it doesn’t have columns.
There are eager soon-to-be-graduates wandering everywhere, some wide-eyed, others keeping their cool like they don’t really care if they’re accepted. Eden’s head is in the map we were given by a preppy-looking student at the front entrance. I look at that dark hair falling over creamy cheeks, eyes scanning the page.
My arm comes to rest on her hip as I look over her shoulder. “Isn’t it the same as their web page?”
Eden’s lips twitch at the reference to the amount of time spent in front of her laptop, but she doesn’t look up. “This one fits in my pocket better.”
I did have to convince her not to bring it. I lean in to kiss her cheek. This is what we need, time together, being normal, keeping it light.
Eden’s hand comes up to stroke my cheek. As she looks up, something catches her eye. “Here they are.”
Tara and Mitch walk toward us, holding hands. Looking normal and even light themselves. Tara skips a little, and even Mitch’s serious smile is a little less serious today. The little shock wave, okay fine, the tsunami from the YouTube clip, has done what all waves do. They build, peak, dissolve, and you never know they were there. It had taken a few days, but a laughing goat compilation had eventually taken the coveted trending slot. With Daniel banished, talk of the Prime Alpha should die down.
My brows dip a little when I see Dana jog up beside them.
“Hi, guys”—s
he smiles brightly—“thought I’d check out my options for next year.”
“Good thinking.” Eden’s shoulder presses a little more into my side, the heat noticeable even on this spring day. “Nice jacket.”
Dana glances down, like she’s not sure how she’s ended up wearing a Wyoming State blazer. “I totally forgot I had this on.” She spins on the spot. “A friend lent it to me. But I think it kinda suits me.”
Eden smiles. “Is there any area you are particularly interested in?”
Dana waves a hand through the air. “I’m not pinning myself down to anything specific, yet.”
“The place is packed and kinda big.” Tara turns to look from one side to the other. “I’m thinking we divide and conquer.”
“Great idea,” Dana gushes. She turns to look at Eden and me. “What are you two checking out first?”
Tara rolls her eyes. “It doesn’t really matter, we’re finding the arts faculty first, you need to start ‘pinning down’ your options.”
Did Dana’s smile just tense a little? She turns to Tara. “Sure, which way?”
Tara shrugs. “I have no idea, but the helpful peeps standing at every corner can point us in the right direction.”
Mitch gives us a wave as Tara turns toward a blonde girl standing not far from us.
I look at Eden, whose happy smile at the prospect of investigating this educational maze together matches mine. “Where should we start?”
Eden grabs my hand, already knowing where to go. The map she tucks into her pocket is redundant after all the time she’s spent memorizing it online.
We walk past Mitch, Tara, and Dana, their three heads tilted over a map held by the blonde. “We’ll see you guys in an hour?”
Tara waves a hand without looking up. Mitch nods and almost smiles. We head down the path dividing two rectangles of lawn, off to who-knows-where but I don’t care. It’s me and Eden and a future I want to believe in. I squeeze the hand holding mine, in reply Eden nudges my shoulder with her own.
Dana’s voice, carrying on a sigh, follows us. “They’re so cute together.”
Judging by the way Eden shakes her head, a little smile on those rose lips, you didn’t need to be a Were to hear that.
