Pack Obsidian Gold

by C. M. Stunich

  “Zara Wolf,” Majka said, her voice as strong as ever, her gaze unyielding. Wherever we are, it wasn't a place I'd even come across by accident while on pack land. And I had a hard time believing that the rest of the pack would miss such a place, not when everyone was so busy pissing and marking turf, exploring every last inch of property with scent and sound and sight.

  No, this place was pure magic and mystery and only Majka knew the way.

  “And yes,” my grandmother continued, glancing over at me with a shimmer in her dark eyes. “She has much potential, this Alpha-Ki.”

  “I can sense it,” the dead girl said, sweeping back wet strands of hair and smiling at me with her blue mouth. “I can feel it.”

  She closed her eyes and after a moment, started to cough violently, these horrible wet hacking sounds that rose the hair on the back of my neck. My first instinct was to move over to her, pat her back, perform the Heimlich maneuver. Anything to get those horrible sound to stop.

  “Stay still, Zara Wolf, it never helps to get too close to a rusalka.”

  A rusalka, I thought as I watched the girl curl over, putting a fragile hand to her lips. She spat a small glimmering white pearl into her palm and then sat back up, offering it out to us.

  “The pearl. Freely given and freely returned,” she said, but my grandmother did not move to take it. “I would not hurt you,” she added, using her other hand to cross an X over her chest. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

  “Today, my granddaughter learns lessons from her elder. Lesson one is … even the most sacred of alliances can be broken. Roll the pearl to me, please.” Majka added something in Croatian that translated roughly to and may the Goddess help us all. I wasn't quite sure what that was for, but life had been so … tumultuous lately that really, it could've been for any number of reasons. “And during Rusalnaya, Pack Ebon Red vows to bring you some entertainment.”

  The rusalka—I think Karma was her actual name—smiled, her dark eyes glimmering with a malevolent appreciation that belied a darker truth behind her melancholic exterior. Vaguely, I knew what a rusalka was, but I figured if I asked Anubis when I got back to the Pairing House, he'd probably know a hell of a lot more.

  Google was nice and all, and I could probably get information about rusalki—plural form has an i—but most of it would probably be bullshit and video game characters. Last time, I looked up werewolf for fun, all I got were Twilight references. Taylor Lautner was cute and all, but seeing half-naked pictures of him from the movies didn't tell the world shit about werewolves.

  The pearl rolled across the wood planks of the dock and Majka's lightning quick hand reached out and snatched it up.

  “Don't be a stranger,” Karma said, pushing back with her hands and sending her legs over the edge of the dock and into the water. “Rusalnaya Nedelja isn't far away; I look forward to seeing you again. Now that I'm awake, I'd love to have some visitors.”

  The girl sunk into the water until only her eyes and the top of her red hair was visible … and then she disappeared from sight beneath the still water. Not a single bubble marred her passage.

  “Majka,” I began, but she held up a hand to silence me. I knew better than to push my luck and sat patiently as she extended her other palm, the small pearl sitting pretty stop her palm.

  “Take it. Eat it.”

  “Why?” I asked and my grandmother's mouth twisted into a smile, her silver crown sitting crooked atop her head, drawing a few beads of blood where it touched the whiteness of her scalp.

  “Are you questioning me, Alpha-Ki.”

  “Even the most sacred of alliances can be broken,” I replied and my grandmother's smile … became a rictus, wolfy grin.

  “Good girl, my little štene,” she growled. I almost smiled at that—štene meant puppy in Croatian. if I thought she were insulting me, I might've growled back, but I was damn near certain this was a rare moment of affection from my ancestor. “Question everything and everyone.”

  I held out my palm and she placed the pearl in it, rising from her feet with a small groan. I stared at the tiny object as she cursed in Croatian—something about goats' balls again—and swiped her hands down the dark folds of her skirt, shedding pine needles and small pebbles.

  Getting to my own feet, I glanced back at the quiet pond and wondered what exactly a rusalka did down there all by herself. I could hardly imagine a lonelier existence.

  Majka left the clearing the way we came, and I followed, feeling that brisk spring breeze wash over me as I passed between the trees. As soon as I stepped out, I glanced back … and the clearing was gone. Tiny droplets of rainwater spattered my face as I stared at the muddy length of a game trail, the undergrowth crushed flat by the hooves of deer.

  The brown ribbon snaked through ferns and foliage into the evergreen of pine trees, the deciduous limbs of oaks and maples dripping with pale green moss.

  “Alpha-Majka,” I asked, turning back and jogging to catch up, my bare feet spattering mud against my calves. My grandmother was surprisingly quick for somebody that was a over a century in age. “What was that place.”

  “Lesson number two,” she said as she led the way back to the big house, her red hair billowing around her face in the storm. “Life is full of mysteries … some of which are best left unexplained.”

  Anubis was waiting for me on the porch when I got back, sitting in his anime patterned pj pants and picking at the remains of what looked like a crepe. I figured Montgomery must've cooked breakfast again. I didn't really know anyone else who knew how to make crepes, let alone had the motivation and skill to actually execute such a plan.

  “How did the lessons go?” Anubis asked, reaching up an unconscious hand and swiping his fingers through his navy blue hair to flatten it. As usual, the move did nothing but tousle the spiked strands even further.

  Smiling, I stepped forward and took his wrist, pulling his hand away from his hair. I liked it the way it was. But his self-conscious need to fix it stemmed from his Alpha-Father, I imagined. The elder Pack Crimson Dusk male seemed to determine to make his grandson's hair presentable. The few times I'd seen him together, that's all the man had done. I'd even seen him snatch Anubis up and try to lick his hair down in an embarrassing grooming session fit only for a pup.

  It was substantially weirder to watch when both wolves were in human form.

  “Well, I learned absolutely zero about magic and … a whole hell of a lot else I didn't expect or need to know.”

  Nic pushed his way out of the screen door and it made my heart hurt to see how pale his face was, how dark his eyes, how far away he looked. But I reminded myself it'd been less than twenty-four hours since he'd died. I had to give him some time.

  “Hey,” I said and he smiled at me, a slightly prettier expression than I saw this morning, but still … not even close to his normal self.

  “So can you throw a wolf across a room with a flick of your hand now.”

  I grinned.

  “Hardly.” I perched my ass on the edge of the porch railing, my red hair wet and dripping in front of my face. The skies icy tears drenched the forest and brought to life all sorts of incredible scents—baby rabbits peeking their heads from their burrow for the first time, the brilliant kiss of spruce trees and sap, the fragrant whisper of the lavender bushes near the porch steps. “We didn't even discuss magic. Instead, she gave me this.”

  I held the pearl out on my palm for the boys to examine.

  Now that I was out of the forest and away from the magical glade, I could feel the power in the tiny object. It radiated out in waves, a familiar kiss of earth magic that I knew I had no reason to distrust. I already knew that I was going to do as Majka asked and swallow the damn thing.

  Anubis stood up from the rocking chair, his tight black tank straining over the muscles in his chest and belly. I literally had to bite my lip to keep my hands to myself.

  “May I?” he asked, and I nodded, shivering as his fingertips brushed across my pa
lm, warm and comforting. My body responded instantly, my nipples hardening beneath my dress, my tongue flicking across my lower lip.

  With the rain and the fresh scents of spring and the excitement of last night … well, neither man seemed to notice. Thank God.

  “Where did you get this?” Anubis asked, studying the pearl with curious crimson eyes, turning it this way and that, the brilliant sheen catching even the morning's weak gray light. It was a beautiful little jewel.

  And I was going to have to eat it.

  I wondered what it was going to do to me?

  “A rusalka,” I said and Anubis' eyes flicked up to mine. He looked genuinely shocked; Nic just looked confused.

  “What's a rusalka?” he asked as Anubis passed over the pearl and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

  “A rusalka is a … spirit of sorts,” Anubis said, his gardenia and jasmine sent teasing me and making me wish I were standing just a little bit closer to him. “Honestly, I wasn't even sure they really existed ...”

  “Why?” Nic asked, rubbing the pearl between his thumb and forefinger, the darkness banished from his eyes with curiosity—at least for the moment.

  “Because rusalki are ...” Anubis began, flicking his gaze to mine. We stared at each other and I knew what we were both thinking without even having to communicate via wolfspeak. Fuck. “They're supposedly dead. Spirits. Women who've been wronged waiting around for the chance to confront their accusers.”

  “They're dead?” Nic asked, and instead of being upset, he looked almost excited by the prospect. “What do you mean?” He handed the pearl back to me and when our skin touched … I knew I needed to touch him. Anubis, I wanted to touch. I wanted to run my fingers down the sides of his jaw, hover my lips over his, feel his hands on my waist. But Nic? He needed that skin-to-skin contact.

  Tucking the pearl into the pocket of my dress, I pulled Nic to me with my fingers on his wrist and wrapped my arms around his waist. The sigh that escaped him made the move more than worth it, like he was exhaling the stress that'd taken up residence in his bones.

  “Well,” Anubis started and then shook his head, looking at me over Nic's shoulder. “I mean, it's just a rumor ...”

  “No, it's true,” I said as I pulled away from Nic, but kept my hands on his wrists, rubbing my thumb over his pulse. “She didn't breathe, her heart didn't beat, and her lips were as blue as the waters she rose from.” I looked at Nic, standing there with dark eyes and red hair, the trademarks of Pack Ebon Red. Marks that once caused me so much pain because I knew I couldn't have him, that I couldn't keep him.

  But that wasn't the case anymore.

  I wasn't going to let Nicoli Hallett go.

  Ever.

  “Let's go inside,” I added, glancing over my shoulder at the pouring rain. We should feel safe enough to talk on the porch of the Pairing House. But we weren't. No, there were traitors in the pack.

  Fucking Allister Vetter.

  I shook my head and grabbed Anubis' hand, dragging both him and Nic toward the screen door. It opened without me having to let go of either boy, Che's big form slouched lazily against the wall next to it.

  “Come on in, Alpha-Red,” he told me with an exaggerated wink, stepping aside to let us through.

  I wasn't surprised to find Aeron and Harlem waiting inside—I could smell the stink of Blood and fae through the screen door. I made a point to close and lock the heavy wooden door behind me, grabbing a bottle of witch hazel from the decorative table next to it and dousing the entrance.

  It was highly unlikely anyone that Nikolina or anyone else would come over here again today, but better safe than sorry.

  “Any word from Whitney?” I asked, snatching my cell off the sofa table and checking my messages. There were a few from Faith, but nothing alarming. And definitely nothing from the witch.

  “None,” Aeron said, her face pained, her glamour back in place. She swept gleaming ebony hair over one shoulder, dressed in jeans and a pink tank top that looked more like Harlem's style than her own. I imagined she borrowed clothes from the vampire princess. “And I doubt we'll hear from her for a while. She'll have a hard time explaining how and why her Maidenhood was broken to the Coven. And even if she comes up with a plausible excuse, they'll be watching her.” Aeron's blue eyes snapped up to my face, her teeth gritted, her emotions clearly stirred up from last night.

  I couldn't blame her—if one of my boys were in Whitney's situation right then, I'd have been sick with worry.

  “The Crone will be watching,” Aeron breathed, turning away and sucking in a deep breath. “She's still alive though. I can feel it.” The faerie girl looked over her shoulder at me. “I read the tea leaves this morning and she doesn't seem to be in any danger … yet.”

  The old wood floors creaked as Jax appeared from the direction of the study and the downstairs bathroom, his blonde hair wet and dripping into his face. He was dressed in white sweatpants and nothing else. They hung low on his hips, low enough that Harlem's eyes caught and I growled low under my breath.

  She flicked her blue gaze back to mine and raised a blonde eyebrow.

  I met her stare and waited until she glanced away with a huff and a snarl of her own. Harlem Blood might be the dominant type, but this was still my land, my house, my males. Mine.

  Glancing to my right, I found Montgomery in the kitchen, dressed in a frilly white apron and loading dishes in the dishwasher. Tidus was sitting on the counter in the kitchen, sucking on a popsicle. He grinned at me when I caught his attention.

  “You were gone a while,” he said, sliding off the edge of the countertop and making his way into the living room, dressed in tight acid wash jeans and a loose sky blue tank. “You must be exhausted, huh?” Tidus flashed a grin at me. “Let me know if you need, like, a foot massage or something. I'm really good with my thumbs.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Che snorted as I smiled at Tidus and then glanced down at my phone, pushing the button on the side to light up the screen.

  “How long is a while?” I murmured under my breath, talking mostly to myself. Oh. I hadn't even paid attention to the time. I had been gone a long time—almost six hours. It definitely hadn't felt like six hours, sitting in that dark little glade. Time must pass differently there.

  I shivered.

  Time was another one of those absolutes that should not be messed with. Death, and the ticking of the clock's fragile hands. If a few minutes spent in that copse of trees was six hours, what would happen if one were to spend the night? I didn't even want to think about it.

  The stairs groaned as Silas made his way down, his gold eyes locking on mine and making my heart skip a few beats. There. All my boys in one room. I could talk now.

  Looking over at Harlem and Aeron, I debated talking about Majka and her lessons.

  Even the most sacred of alliances could be broken, right?

  “You want some privacy?” Harlem asked with a sassy hip pop, planting her fist against it. “You fetched us but now you want to be alone with the boys? Unless you're planning on fucking them, I feel like we should be included in whatever it is you have to say.”

  “Why?” I asked, moving into the living room and cross my arms over my chest. I stared at the vampire/werewolf girl, dressed in short-shorts, a black sweater with a keyhole cutout, and ankle boots. She looked fierce and modern but also … like a threat. Especially when her teeth curled back from her vampire fangs.

  “Because we're risking everything to help you out. The last you can do is tell us what's going on.”

  “If this had to do with Kingdom Ironbound or Coven Triad, I'd agree with you wholeheartedly,” I said, refusing to be bullied in my own living room. “But it doesn't. This is strictly wolf business.”

  Harlem grit her teeth, and I could see it, this violent ripple that paused through her eyes, across her skin, made her shiver. More than anything else in the world, she wanted to be wolf. Pack. She wanted to belong.

  “Fuck. Why did you even send
for us if you weren't ready to share anyway?” she growled, moving toward the front door. I stepped in front of her, cutting off her path.

  “I'll tell you,” I said, making a split second decision. “But first, I want to know why you hesitated at the cafe, when Whitney asked how we knew about the witch's slow drain spell.”

  “What?” Harlem asked, her husky voice hiccuping and giving away the fact that she knew exactly what I was talking about.

  “You said you'd dug through old documents,” Anubis explained for me as I glanced to my left and found Montgomery standing there with a cup of steaming coffee and a plate of crepes, dressed in whipped cream and chocolate-hazelnut sauce. I could smell strawberries and bananas from here.

  “Sustenance, Alpha,” he told me as my heart stuttered and I remembered him kneeling between my thighs … a knight, a king, an alpha. Montgomery was born to lead. He also, apparently, was born to cook because the food in his hand smelled like heaven.

  “Thank you,” I said, trying not to think too hard about his green eyes looking down into mine, his body moving inside of me with slow, sure strokes. Everything Montgomery did was careful and calculated, but not calculating. He was a planner, but not a schemer. And his honesty shone like the sun on a cloudy day.

  I wanted to kiss his mouth so bad in that moment.

  Instead, I took the mug and the plate, turned toward the living room … and then turned back, holding the plate and food out to the side so I could lean in and capture his lips. My body was already riled up, my thighs clenched tight, this throbbing pulse between them that had me biting Monty's lip.

  He groaned and very gently put a palm on my chest to push me away.

  “If we get started down that route ...” he began, breath hitching. His breath feathered across my moist lips as we stared at each other. I'd been having sex for all of a week and a half and it was killing me not to have more of it, like I'd opened a bag of potato chips and eaten just one. Well, okay … um five different flavors of chips … and a few repeats. But still, my body wanted more, the natural urge to mate and breed with my males almost overwhelming. I couldn't even imagine how Montgomery was feeling, having had just a taste.