Shift (Southern Werewolves Book 1)

by Heather MacKinnon

  “It’s always my job! Everything is my job! Everything is my responsibility! It’s up to me to protect every single member of this pack, and that includes you!”

  I opened my mouth to scream at him some more, but realized this wasn’t getting us anywhere. The damage was done. He’d betrayed my trust. Lied to me. And, there was no coming back from that. Not for me, and not for him.

  This was over.

  I straightened my spine and extended the handle of my suitcase. “Well I’m not your problem anymore.”

  His fiery blue eyes dimmed, broad shoulders falling even further. “Don’t leave, El, please.”

  “My name’s ‘Elizabeth’.”

  He winced like I’d struck him.

  My nose burned again, and I knew I was seconds from tears. I needed to go. Now.

  I turned around, and rolled my suitcase toward the door, grabbing my purse along the way. Wasn’t sure how I was leaving this place without my car, but hell, I’d walk to town, and pay a cab to drive me back to Raleigh if that’s what it took.

  “Please. Don’t leave me.” His voice was low and soft, almost begging, and I swear, a piece of my heart broke clean off. A large, alpha shaped piece I knew I’d never get back.

  I’d never be the same after this, and a part of me liked that I’d only have to live with the gaping hole for another three weeks. After that, I’d be free of the agony I was feeling right now.

  Free of this pack.

  Free of this pain.

  Free of this man.

  A single tear slipped from my eye, but I halted the rest. “Tell me something,” I asked, my back to him. I took a deep breath. “Is there anything else you’re keeping from me?”

  His silence said it all.

  I waited longer than any self-respecting woman should, but I didn’t want to walk away. I didn’t want there to be something else he was lying about. Didn’t want to have to leave.

  But, I did.

  “Goodbye, Abraham,” I told him quietly before walking through the door, and closing it behind me.

  Closing it on him.

  On us.

  Evey and Callie were leaning against the opposite wall looking the saddest I’d ever seen them. I gave them both a simple nod, and went to walk past them when Callie pushed off the wall, and stood in front of me.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Home.”

  “Can I drive you?”

  I eyed her critically. She’d lied to me too. They all had. But, at least she hadn’t spent a whole week in my house. Talking, and laughing, and eating, and drinking, and bonding, and lying.

  I nodded once, and she smiled gratefully. Ignoring her, I stalked toward the stairs, ready to just be gone.

  “Bye, Ellie,” Evey called, the sound of her broken voice stabbing me almost as viciously as Abraham’s had.

  A part of me, a huge, mac-truck-sized part, wanted nothing more than to take the pain out of Evey’s voice.

  Take the misery out of Abraham’s blue, blue eyes.

  But, I couldn’t do that.

  They’d betrayed me, and that wasn’t something I could just forgive. I had to protect myself. Couldn’t fall back into that dark place I’d barely crawled out of last time I’d let someone in, and they’d broken my trust.

  I couldn’t go back there.

  Even for the best friend I’d ever had.

  Even for the most incredible man I’d ever met.

  I just couldn’t.

  We made it down to the garage, and Callie pointed me toward a little silver Prius, and I almost laughed.

  Of course Callie would own a Prius.

  She opened the hatchback, and I tossed my bag in alongside hers before stomping over to the passenger door. When we were both seated, she took her time checking mirrors, and adjusting her seatbelt before she finally turned the car on, and carefully reversed onto the driveway.

  As we drove down the long drive, a gray blur caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head to find a large wolf running through the trees alongside the car. It kept pace with us for a few minutes before stopping in place and tilting its massive head back. A long, loud, mournful howl ripped from its throat before the wolf turned the other way, and sprinted off.

  I knew it was Abraham.

  I’d know him in human or wolf form. There was an undeniable connection. A fine, but indestructible thread that ran between us.

  I’d have to spend the time I had left severing that.

  I didn’t want to feel the pain in my chest that I knew wasn’t just mine. It was his too. I don’t know how I could feel his anguish, or how I knew it was his, but I did.

  It was so much larger than my own.

  Deeper.

  Sharper.

  Infinite.

  I didn’t know how I’d manage both our pain, but I had no other choice. He’d broken my trust, and that was something I’d never forgive. He knew I would die, and he’d let me walk around believing I had a future.

  And what’s worse, he let me believe we had a future.

  That there was something building and blooming between the two of us. Something beautiful, and rare, and perfect.

  But, that was a lie.

  It was all a lie.

  And as Callie headed toward the highway that would take me away from this, away from him, the anger that had boiled, and frothed inside me finally made way for the sadness that had been bubbling underneath. With all the eyes off me, the bravado collapsed, and I let the tears I’d been holding in fall. Let out the pain I’d been hiding.

  And, I cried.

  For hours.

  The tears endless as I cried for myself.

  For Abraham.

  Even for Evey.

  Cried because every pack member I’d met knew I wouldn’t make it and had still befriended me.

  But, none of it mattered anymore.

  None of it could last.

  Because I had three weeks to live, and nothing could change that.

  A while later, Callie’s gentle hand on my shoulder roused me from a fitful sleep.

  “We’re here,” she said quietly.

  I mumbled something back and climbed out of her little car. It was dark by now, but the sight of my apartment had never been more welcome. I was trudging up the sidewalk when I heard Callie clear her throat softly behind me.

  When I turned around, I found her standing awkwardly near her still-open trunk, fidgeting with her hands and shuffling from foot to foot. I raised my brows at her.

  “Um, well, the thing is, I was supposed to stay with you this week, but after everything that happened, I wasn’t sure…” she trailed off, clearly uncomfortable.

  I sighed. “Is it really still necessary?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I won’t live through it, Callie. What’s the point?”

  Her brows furrowed. “We don’t know that,” she replied quietly.

  I shook my head, my southern manners kicking in. “You can come in if you’d like, but I don’t see what help you’ll be.”

  She nodded and grabbed her bag before following me up the stairs. “We don’t know anything for sure yet, Elizabeth,” she said behind me, but I ignored her.

  I just wanted my cat.

  And, my bed.

  And, maybe a bottle of wine.

  Or two.

  We made it in the door before Charlie came barreling toward me, crashing into my shins as always. A reluctant smile cracked across my tight face.

  I felt like I’d been soaked in dirty dishwater and then laid out to dry. Cracked, and brittle.

  I picked up my cat and stalked over to the fridge. A half bottle of white greeted me, and I snagged it, forgoing a glass to drink it straight from the source. After I’d taken a few swigs, and felt the wine swirling through my head, I turned to find Callie still standing by the front door, bag in hand, eyes wide as she surveyed my apartment.

  “You can come in,” I told her.

  She nodded
absently. “Your apartment is so… colorful.”

  One corner of my lips twitched, and that was the closest thing to a smile I could muster at the moment. “I get that a lot.”

  Her eyes found me, still snuggling with my tabby. “And, you have a cat,” she deadpanned.

  I nodded and took another gulp of wine. “Sure do. His name’s Charlie.”

  “And, Evey was all right with that?” She asked uncertainly.

  “She didn’t really have a choice, but yes, they got along just fine.”

  Callie nodded again. “Well, if Evey can get along with him, I’m sure I can too.”

  I shrugged. It didn’t matter to me whether she liked my cat or not. Not much of anything did except the crisp bottle of wine in my hand that I was quickly coming to the bottom of.

  I tipped my head back and took another large swill before using the bottle to point down the hall. “At the end is a spare bedroom. You can put your things in there. It doubles as my office, but I haven’t been using it much.” I laughed humorlessly. “And, I won’t be using it for much longer so it doesn’t really matter, does it?” I put the lip of the bottle back to my mouth and finished the rest.

  Callie shook her head and took the empty bottle from my hand. “This won’t help.” She set it on the counter and crossed her arms over her narrow chest.

  “It can’t hurt at this point can it?” I narrowed my eyes and went back to the refrigerator for the unopened bottle. I twisted the cap off, and took a big gulp, glaring at Callie who just sighed.

  “I’m going to go put my stuff away, and then you and I are going to have a talk.”

  I took another big sip, my head swimming. “About what? What could possibly matter at this point?”

  She sighed again and turned away. “I’m going to tell you a few things Abey should have told you a while ago.” She walked past me, rolling her suitcase behind her. “And, trust me, it matters.”

  I scoffed. “What could possibly matter, Callie?! I’m going to die in three weeks.”

  She stopped in her tracks, and spun to face me, her pale blue eyes sterner than I’d ever seen them. “There’s a chance you might live, Elizabeth. I thought that might interest you.” She turned on her heel, angrily swiping the curtain of beads out of her way as she went.

  I might live?

  A big part of me didn’t dare to hope. But, that tiny indestructible, and eternal optimist deep inside wouldn’t let me give up.

  Not completely.

  Not yet.

  If there was even the slightest chance I might make it, I would take it. Take it and run.

  Because Elizabeth Montgomery was above all else, a fighter.

  Chapter 31

  When Callie returned, I was already sitting on my bright pink couch, cat in one hand, bottle of wine in the other. She’d given me a sliver of hope, but that didn’t mean I was giving up the alcohol.

  Not yet, at least.

  She walked gracefully through the living room, bringing with her the delicate scent of roses, and took a seat next to me. She gave a reproachful glance at my bottle of wine, and I gripped it tighter. I’d wrestle her for it if I had to.

  She shook her head. “First, you need to understand that Abey didn’t keep this from you out of selfishness.” I rolled my eyes and took a large sip of wine. “He’s not like that. You haven’t known him very long, but I’ve known him all my life. Those things you accused him of are so far from the truth.”

  My gut twisted uncomfortably, but I stayed silent. “He’d never keep something from you to benefit himself,” she continued. “It was only to protect you. We all knew how hard it must have been finding out werewolves were real, and that you were about to become one. Add onto that all the changes your body is going through, and we agreed it would be best to save this information for later.”

  I sat up straighter. “When were you all planning to tell me? The night before my shift?” I scoffed.

  Callie shrugged. “Possibly.”

  “That’s great. The eleventh hour is a great time to tell a person they’re going to die.”

  “What good would it have done to tell you sooner?” She waved a hand at my wine, and I clutched it tighter again, taking a spiteful sip while she watched. “Look at you, drinking just to cope. How are your next three weeks going to be, knowing you might not live through the shift? What good has it done you knowing this?”

  “But, it wasn’t your decision!” I exploded, causing Callie to wince, and lean back. “I should have been told upfront, not have to hear Beatrice bragging about it to Abraham–”

  “She wasn’t bragging, Elizabeth. She would never do something like that.”

  I waved away her defense of her sister’s character. I didn’t want to hear it. Not now.

  “It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have had to find out like that. He should have told me. Evey should have told me,” I added, my stupid nose burning with unshed tears again.

  Callie leaned over and placed a hand on my arm. “She was ordered not to. We all were. She couldn’t have told you even if she wanted to.” Callie leaned back, pulling a sequined throw pillow onto her lap, and tucking a leg beneath her. “When an alpha gives a direct order, you don’t disobey it. That’s what he did. He ordered the whole pack to keep this from you. So don’t blame any of them, they had no choice.”

  My chest loosened the slightest bit.

  Evey hadn’t betrayed me.

  My friend hadn’t lied to me.

  As the load lifted, my stomach twisted with guilt. I’d treated her terribly. Accused her of lying when she’d had no choice. What kind of friend did that make me?

  My nose burned worse.

  “She knows, El. She knows you didn’t know. She’ll forgive you, don’t worry.” My watery eyes met her sympathetic ones. “We all love you. We’d forgive you anything. You’re pack now. Family.”

  I sniffed back the emotion threatening to escape me. Instead, I took another big gulp of wine despite her disappointed scrutiny.

  “But, what about Abraham? Why did he order you all to keep it a secret from me? Why didn’t he want me to know? Why did he lie to me?” I whined.

  “I told you. He thought he was doing the right thing. He didn’t want to upset you. He’d do anything to make you happy, you have to know that.”

  If I were being honest, I’d had an inkling that was the case. But, I wasn’t in the mood to be honest. I took another large sip of wine, the bottle now half-empty.

  “He should have told me,” I muttered stubbornly.

  Callie nodded. “I agree. Once the shock of becoming a werewolf wore off, he should have told you. You were bound to find out one way or another, and it would have been much better coming straight from him, and not from an overheard conversation.” She eyed me critically, and I shrunk in my seat.

  “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” I whined again. “I’m still getting used to these things.” I tapped my ear.

  She nodded and waved my words away. “I know, I know.” She sighed. “I wish that stubborn man had listened to us and told you sooner.” She shook her head. “He just couldn’t make himself upset you…” she trailed off, and my stomach twisted tighter.

  Have I made a huge mistake?

  The stubborn streak in me shook her head violently, and I drank some more wine instead.

  “You said I might live?” I asked pathetically. I was afraid to hope, but Callie had planted the seed, and despite my best efforts, it had not only grown roots, but also sprouted.

  She nodded seriously. “Some bitten wolves make it. There haven’t been many in recent years, but it happens.”

  I swallowed harshly. “What are my odds?”

  “The odds are about twenty-five percent in your favor.”

  My hope deflated once more. “That's not very good odds,” I muttered, taking another long sip of wine.

  “Your odds are considerably better than that.”

  I perked up. “Why’s that?” My words were beginning to slur
.

  She bit her lips and averted her gaze. I frowned, confused until it dawned on me. “You’re not allowed to tell me that either, are you?”

  She shook her head sadly.

  “Is that the other thing Abraham isn’t telling me?”

  She paused for a short moment before nodding, brown curls bouncing around her small face.

  I growled and drank some more wine.

  “This is bullshit,” I said, taking both Callie, and myself by surprise.

  I never cursed, but if I was going to start, this was a great time.

  “Why don’t bitten wolves make it through their first shift?” I asked.

  “It didn’t always used to be that way. Years ago the odds were better, but it seems as though the magic is disintegrating, and making it that much harder to transfer to humans.”

  I sat up quickly. “Magic?”

  Callie nodded. “Didn’t Abey tell you where werewolves come from?”

  I squinted at the wall above her head, trying to get my wine-soaked brain to think straight. With a snap of my fingers, I grinned. “He mentioned magic once. And, witches I think. Or, was it psychics? I’m not really sure…”

  Callie sighed dramatically. “I bet a little less wine would jog your memory.”

  “Leave my wine alone.”

  She sighed again. “Would you like to hear our origin story? Or, will you not remember it in the morning?”

  I frowned at her. “I’ll remember it. I’m not–” a hiccup interrupted my sentence and completely discredited me, “drunk.” Another hiccup, and a sigh from Callie. “Please, I want to know.”

  She nodded. “Well it was a long long time ago, back near what we now call Germany. There was a poor shepherd who wanted nothing more than to live a simple life with his wife, a woman he’d loved since childhood. She was the most beautiful woman in their village, and before long, she caught the eye of one of the most revered warriors. This man was a hero in their village and soon took the shepherd’s wife as his own.”

  “That’s terrible! Who just takes someone’s wife?” I asked, swallowing another mouthful of wine.

  “Back then, warriors were aristocracy. They could pretty much have whatever they wanted as long as there was no one to stop them. As for the shepherd, all he could do was watch helplessly as the warrior took his distraught bride from him. Mad with grief, the shepherd sought the most powerful person he knew of; an old witch that lived in the surrounding forest.