Wolfsbane (Howl #3)

by Jody Morse

  Luke’s face moved closer to hers and when his lips came down on hers, it felt like a thousand sparks had been lit up inside of her. She kissed him back, gently running her fingers down his neck and over his spine.

  Samara could feel a shiver wash over Luke’s body as her fingers caressed his skin. He pulled her closer to him, and a feeling of longing washed over her body.

  But she also knew that now wasn’t the right time. She wasn’t ready yet . . . not when they had all of this other stuff to deal with. So, instead of doing what she wanted and giving into both of their desires, she pulled herself away from him, trying to ignore the look of disappointment in his eyes. She rolled over onto her side and whispered, “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight,” Luke replied quietly. A long moment of silence filled the room. Samara wasn’t positive, but she thought that she heard Luke whisper that he loved her just as she began to drift off to sleep.

  Chapter 7

  The next morning, Samara was woken up by the sound of someone pounding on their hotel room door. She immediately sat up in bed with alertness, and glanced over at the clock. They had overslept, and Samara realized she had completely forgotten to set the alarm clock on her phone before they’d fallen asleep.

  The banging on the door continued, as Luke stirred next to her. He rubbed his eyes.

  “Guys? Stop being lazy and get your asses up. It’s time to leave,” Chris called in a husky voice from outside the door.

  “We’ll be ready in five,” Luke called back to him, climbing out of bed and pulling on his clothes.

  Samara grabbed her own clothes and headed into the bathroom to brush her teeth. As she glanced at herself in the mirror, she smelled something unusual. She sniffed, nearly dropping her toothbrush on the tiled floor.

  The scent was clear. There were werewolves from another pack nearby.

  “Luke?” she called. “Can you come here?”

  Luke emerged from the hotel bedroom, a hardened expression on his face. “I smell it, too,” he said, and Samara realized that he had probably sensed her worry or heard her thoughts.

  “Do you recognize the scent?” Samara asked. She still wasn’t able to identify scents from other packs; she could barely pick up on her own scent’s pack. She assumed it was because she was still so new at this that her sense of scent hadn’t had told to develop yet.

  Luke shook his head. “No, I don’t. I’m pretty sure I’ve never smelled it before.”

  Samara breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn’t sure why it had even crossed her mind that it could be Jason, since he was in Massachusetts, after all . . . and if he wasn’t there, he was probably back in Pennsylvania. It was doubtful that he’d come all the way to Alaska.

  “It’s probably the Koto pack,” Luke continued. “That’s the pack your great-grandfather was in. They’re known to rule all of Alaska. In fact, I think they’re the only pack up here, but I’m not sure.”

  “If my great-grandfather was a Koto, why was my grandfather a Vyka?” Samara questioned. She still didn’t know all that much about Grandpa Joe’s werewolf family history. It had been shocking enough to learn that her grandfather had been a werewolf at all, let alone learn about his family werewolf origins.

  “From what I understand, there was some sort of falling out between your grandfather and one of his pack mates.” Luke paused, as though he were trying to remember what he had read in a history book. “Whatever happened, Joe left in search of a new pack. He didn’t just want one to accept him as a pack mate . . . He wanted them to make him Alpha. When that didn’t happen, he went to drastic measures. He conquered the Vyka pack leader, and gave the other pack members the option to leave if they wanted. He convinced some of his werewolf friends from back home to leave, and he built the strongest and most powerful pack he could.”

  “I wonder why he let the Vyka pack members leave if they wanted. If he was looking for power, it would have made more sense for him to keep those pack members, and then add more of his own,” Samara commented. “I wonder what happened to the ones that left.”

  Luke shrugged. “I’ve never heard anything about them. I’m not even sure who they were. Colby might know.”

  There was another knock on the door. This time, Kyle’s voice asked impatiently, “Are you guys ready to leave yet?”

  Samara rolled her eyes. “Yes, we’re ready,” she called back. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  *

  There was a light dusting of snow on the ground, and it was still flurrying as they left the hotel. Samara was surprised to find that she didn’t feel cold. She didn’t feel warm, either. With a pair of denim jeans, a light sweater, and a pea coat on, she felt comfortable.

  Maybe her body was finally beginning to adapt to the cold.

  She followed Colby, who was leading the way. Luke was close behind her, with Chris and Steve not too far behind them. Kyle and Josh took the rear.

  “Do we even know what we’re looking for?” Samara asked Colby. “I mean, you said it’s going to take a half hour on foot, but where are we going?”

  He smiled at her. “Don’t worry about it. We’re going to find the place. I know the general direction, but if we don’t find it, the GPS on my phone works pretty good.”

  Samara nodded. She felt relieved that Colby had once been the Alpha of their pack; he was much better at leading them than she was. When they got back home, she knew that she was going to have to ask him for pointers . . . and she still wanted to give him that makeover. The highlighter yellow hoodie that he was sporting today was just too distracting, especially for Alaska. On the bright side, no cars would miss them in the dark.

  Once they were about half a mile down the road, she felt like the snow was starting to get heavier as it fell, splattering against her nose and cheeks. Even her hair was beginning to feel wet.

  As they turned a corner, she checked her cell phone for the first time that morning. There was a new text message from Emma.

  Samara felt her heart skip a beat. Had Jason gotten to her best friend already? When she opened and read the text message, she felt herself relaxing again. Emma had written: So, u weren’t joking about this sleepwalking stuff. I changed into a wolf last night and woke up this morning without any clothes on.

  Told you! Samara wrote back, stuffing the phone back in her pocket. At least Emma definitely believed her about the whole werewolf thing now. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders; even though her best friend had seemed pretty convinced so far, Samara had still worried that she was going to doubt her.

  As they approached an old clothing shop, Luke asked, “Do you want to stop and get something warmer to wear?”

  Samara shook her head. “No, I’m fine now. But thanks for thinking about me,” she said, reaching over and squeezing his hand. Luke smiled at her.

  Colby came to an abrupt halt in front of them. “Do you smell that?”

  They all froze in their places behind him, and she heard her pack mates sniffing the air. No one answered him, but she knew that they were all thinking the same thing she was; there was definitely another werewolf nearby.

  “I say we change,” Chris whispered. “We’ll be quicker and more intimidating if we come across this other wolf.”

  “Yeah, let’s do that,” Samara agreed, wondering why she hadn’t thought of it herself. They all cut across the road and began walking into the woods. Once they were completely concealed by the trees, they changed to their wolf forms at the same time, the blue cloud of smoke filling the woods and drifting through the trees.

  Let’s keep moving along, Colby instructed, leading the way through the woods. We gotta pick up the pace if we want to get there soon.

  They raced through the woods, on all fours, until they reached a snow-covered mound. Samara was about to lead her pack members up when she saw it, and the smell became even clearer. A wolf stepped out from behind a tree and approached them.

  The wolf stood taller and had broader shoulders than an
ordinary wolf that would normally be found in the wilderness. It was definitely a werewolf.

  Halt, who goes there? the werewolf’s high-pitched, girly voice asked.

  Even in wolf form, Samara could hear Kyle laughing. Halt, who goes there? What are we . . . in the eighteenth century or something?

  Kyle, Samara said, shooting her cousin a glare. She really didn’t want him to piss off this werewolf. Not while they were in Koto territory. She turned to the wolf. I’m Samara, and this is Kyle, Luke, Colby, Chris, Josh, and Steve, she said, introducing all of the members of the pack.

  I’m Kyana, the wolf said, sitting down on the ground contently. What pack are you from?

  Ima, Samara replied. She didn’t even ask Kyana what pack she was from; she already knew the answer. We’re from Pennsylvania.

  I know where you’re from, Kyana replied, meeting Samara’s eyes. Even through the dark Alaskan day, she could see that Kyana had vivid orange eyes. She had never seen anything like it before. Although the color seemed like it would be haunting on any other wolf, there was something friendly about Kyana’s eyes. Samara automatically found herself trusting her.

  How do you know where we’re from? Josh asked. Samara noted a sense of defensiveness in his voice.

  I just know things, Kyana replied, and Samara could have sworn she saw her roll her eyes. What I don’t know is why you’re in our territory.

  Samara wondered if she should be honest with Kyana. She glanced over at Luke. He nodded, encouraging her to explain.

  My grandfather, Joe McKinley, left something for me here. I’ve come to reclaim it, Samara replied, deciding not to go into much detail.

  It didn’t matter, though. Kyana’s orange eyes lit up at just the mention of Grandpa Joe’s name. Joe McKinley, you say? He was your grandfather?

  Yes, Samara answered, nodding her head. One of her furry, white ears flopped over and covered her eye.

  My papa will want to speak to you. Come with me, Kyana instructed.

  Samara glanced over her shoulder at Luke. His golden eyes mirrored what she felt: worry. Kyana didn’t seem all that bad herself, but what was her father going to be like . . . and why did he want to speak to her? The whole situation seemed rather strange.

  Even though Samara’s gut told her to turn around, to tell her pack that coming to Alaska had been a huge mistake, she didn’t. She followed Kyana across the snow-covered ground and through a dark forest.

  She was about to ask how far they had to travel when a low growl came from behind the bushes. It sent Samara’s hair straight up. When she saw the large wolf that emerged from the bushes, she began to panic.

  Akar, it’s okay. There’s no reason to be so defensive. I asked these wolves to come speak to Papa, Kyana explained. Samara quickly realized that Akar must have been Kyana’s brother; they had the same orange eyes, and the same silky white fur, which closely resembled her own fur.

  Akar narrowed his eyes at Samara and the rest of the Ima before grunting loudly. Samara took it as a sign of his approval because Kyana continued to walk. She led them into a narrow opening inside a rock structure. It reminded Samara of a human-made cave.

  This is our den, Kyana explained.

  You live in a den? Colby asked.

  Kyana turned to look at him, baring her teeth and prepared to snarl. Yes, we live in a den. We stick to old werewolf traditions here. Don’t judge.

  I’m not judging. I find it very fascinating, Colby commented as they approached what looked like a tiny room with blankets and pillows on the dirt-covered ground.

  Do all Alaskan natives live in dens? Samara questioned. She’d never been to Alaska before, but she was truly curious about her ancestors’ upbringing. All of her ancestors couldn’t have been werewolves, though, so she wondered if they had all lived in dens like Kyana and her family.

  No, they live like ordinary people. It’s just a werewolf thing to live in dens, Kyana replied. She glanced around the den. My father isn’t here. I’ll go find him.

  Samara watched as she strolled out of the den. She couldn’t tell if Kyana’s tail was just moving, or if it was wagging happily as she left.

  Okay, is anybody else creeped out? Steve asked. Why does this guy want to talk to Samara?

  I guess we’ll find out soon, Luke said, lying down on the ground. The good news is that I didn’t notice any other pack members nearby, except for the son. I think we could conquer all of them if we had to.

  Samara instinctively let out a low growl. Don’t talk that way. No one’s going to conquer anyone here. We’re not here to fight anyone, especially not on their turf. We’re just here to talk. But I don’t know what we’re here to talk about.

  Before anyone could get another word in, the sound of paws hitting against the dirt floor filled her ears, and she turned around to see a white wolf standing behind them. It was the largest wolf she had ever seen; his shoulders were pressed back and he exuded an overwhelming sense of confidence—to the point where it could easily be mistaken as cockiness.

  Samara McKinley? Kyana’s father’s voice boomed, echoing throughout the den. His orange eyes scanned the area for her.

  That would be me, Samara spoke up nervously.

  Well, well, well. I didn’t expect to see you in my neck of the woods anytime soon, the wolf said.

  Chapter 8

  Who are you, and how do you know my name? Samara asked Kyana’s father, who stood before her.

  Let’s just say that I was a good friend of your grandfather’s, the wolf responded. My name is Orkos. If you don’t mind transforming into a human, I’d like to offer you and your pack a cup of tea.

  Tea sounds good, Samara replied politely. The truth was, she definitely wasn’t in the mood for tea at that moment.

  The den filled with a cloudy smoke as the Ima, Kyana, and Orkos all shifted to their human forms. The cloud of smoke that surrounded Kyana and Orkos was a vibrant shade of orange, which matched the eye color that they had as wolves.

  Once she was back in her human form, Samara got a good look at Kyana and Orkos. They both had silky black hair and almond-shaped eyes, and their skin was on the tanner side.

  As Kyana handed each of them tiny cups of tea from a kettle in the corner, Samara noticed that she was really pretty—and not just girl next door pretty. She was the type of breathtaking that could land her on the cover of a magazine one day.

  Orkos was also attractive, and Samara was surprised to find that he wasn’t old. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties or perhaps his early forties. Even though she knew it was rude, she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “If you knew my grandfather, why aren’t you his age?”

  Orkos laughed. “How long have you been a werewolf?”

  “Not long,” Samara admitted, taking a sip of the tea. She tried not to wrinkle her nose at its bitter taste and forced herself to gulp it down so she didn’t seem rude.

  “Werewolves all age differently. Some of us stop aging when we’re in our twenties, some of us continue to age until our bodies are physically in their eighties or nineties. If you want my opinion, I think it has a lot to do with your nutrition. Nobody’s gonna stay young-looking by drinking beer and eating pizza all the time,” Orkos said. “If it comes from the earth, it’s good for you. Stay away from that processed garbage, and you’ll be fine. I think the reason your grandfather aged quicker than many of us do is because he loved his cigars.”

  “I didn’t know my grandfather smoked,” Samara admitted. “Why didn’t he get lung cancer?”

  Orkos laughed. “Silly girl. We don’t get cancer. We can’t get a disease that causes us to die the same way humans would. It’s just not in our immortal blood.”

  “Oh, right.” Samara shook her head at herself, feeling sort of dumb for not realizing that sooner. “My grandfather died of natural causes, though,” she said, recalling that Jason had told her that her father had died because his strength had basically been too draining for his body to handle.

  “That’s sub
jective,” Orkos said, shaking his head and looking down at the ground.

  “What do you mean?” Samara pressed. “You don’t think he died of natural causes?”

  “All of the history books say he did,” Colby chimed in, and Samara had to stifle a giggle. Leave it to Colby to rely on history books to know what went on in the werewolf world. Samara knew that if werewolf history books were anything like human history books, they probably didn’t always give the most accurate account of history.

  “The history may say it and some people might believe it, but I don’t,” Orkos admitted, meeting Samara’s eyes. “I think he was murdered.”

  “What makes you think that? Wouldn’t it be well-known by now?” Chris, who had remained quiet until now, spoke up.

  “It wouldn’t be well-known if the people who killed him did a good job of covering it up,” Orkos replied with a shrug. “Things aren’t always as they seem.”

  “What would make you think he was murdered?” Samara asked. Even though she knew that her grandmother had been murdered by werewolves, it had never crossed her mind that her grandfather might have been killed, too.

  Orkos paused for a long while, and when he looked back up at Samara, he had a wistful look in his eyes, as though he were reminiscing about what had happened like it was yesterday. “I received a letter from Joe just before he died. He told me that he wanted the two of us to go to Arkansas to hide out. There’s a really low werewolf population out there, so he thought we wouldn’t get discovered. Apparently, he had some bad dealings with wolves in his general area, and he wanted to get away from them. I think he knew he was in danger.”

  “Who do you think killed him?” Samara questioned. What if her grandfather’s murderer was still out there somewhere?

  “I don’t know,” Orkos replied, shaking his head, his chin-length black hair moving with it. “Part of the reason no one believes Joe was actually murdered was because no one conquered his pack. A new Alpha from another pack didn’t take over. But that doesn’t mean that he couldn’t have been killed. There are ways around it. For example, I know there is one clause that says that if you conquer an Alpha, you can request that your firstborn son takes your place as Alpha instead. But if you want my opinion, I think someone from the Vyka—someone from Joe’s own pack—is who killed him.”