by May Sage
But what her mother saw was that he had money, and that was enough. She wouldn’t have been nearly as vehement in her protests if she’d known that from the start.
“We’re not here to fight,” he said, ignoring Marissa, and looking directly at her aunt and uncle. “In fact, we’re not here for you, at all.”
Clari frowned, confused when he got up from his seat. Then, she started hyperventilating. Daunte bent a knee, and got a small black box out of his pocket.
“We’re here for you, Clarissa. You were thrown into our world and you never even tried to escape from it. You’ve accepted every single bit of crap coming along with it, fangs, fur, and all. We’re here because you deserve everything you’ve ever wanted. You’re my mate, and, in my world, that’s everything. Let me become everything in yours.”
* * *
The End.
* * *
Next in the series: Catnip.
Catnip
Chapter 1
Flight
They were all screwed.
Coveney’s animal jumped out of the way, blocking the attack of the Vergas wolf with ease, and buried his sharp fangs in his flanks. A pained growl was ripped from his chest and he turned to see an arrow lodged in his shoulder.
Shit. His tiger wouldn’t be able to get rid of it, and shifting back to his human form in the middle of this mess was nothing short of suicidal. He’d only taken a second to contemplate how utterly screwed he was when another wolf jumped him from the right; he saw another set of arrows flying at him on the left.
Arrows…
He knew someone who used those, and she rarely missed her mark.
You’re so dead, he told himself. He was - there was a very good chance that they all were. But inside their home, there were nine children, at least two of whom would die if he failed, so he didn’t have a choice. He needed to fight.
Zack, his Alphas’ newborn son, was condemned by shifter laws because of what he was: a Turner, able to change a regular human being into one of them. Their existence was a secret that shifters had spilled a lot of blood to keep under wraps.
Lola, their toddler, wouldn’t live much longer. There was a chance that the Vergas wolves had come because of Zack, too, but Coveney doubted it. They had wanted to kill Lola for a long time, hunting them everywhere, until his Pride had managed to push back.
But today, if things went their way, these wolves would have a chance, unless he stood his ground as long as possible to give the children a chance to run with their Beta female.
He had to survive.
Launching himself at the wolf, Coveney’s tiger roared as a second arrow pierced his skin, closer to his heart this time.
It wasn’t the first time he’d been shot. It hurt like a bitch, but he could ignore the pain. He had to.
His claws ripped through the wolf’s back; he placed a paw on its head and, with a flick of his wrist, broke its neck. Then he turned left, facing the direction where all those damn arrows had come from, and there she was. Smirking. Of course she smirked. She was finally getting what she’d wanted for the best part of a decade.
* * *
Lorren hadn’t always been that way. Back in the day, she’d actually been a sweet kid; his very best friend. He couldn’t even pinpoint when things had started to change, exactly, but he remembered when he’d realized there was no going back, not for them.
Coveney noticed that women had tits late for a shifter. They were animals, and most of them got horny shortly after hitting puberty and shifting for the first time, but he was nineteen when he found a girl that fascinated him more than a video game. Lorren disliked Holly on sight, but Coveney figured it was just because of the usual best friend versus girlfriend rivalry. However, one day, he’d been called to his Alpha’s office and found himself accused of rape.
Him. He’d been too shocked to utter a single word.
Oh, he’d fucked, wildly, savagely, but Holly had been an eager participant, and she’d loved every second of it.
“I don’t understand,” he’d said. “Holly…”
But it hadn’t been Holly who’d gone to the Alpha with poisonous lies. It had been Lorren.
With some distance, he now saw he’d been a dumb fool. Lorren had been into him; she’d probably seen them as a thing because there had been no other women in his life. Not that it justified the way she’d ruined his life, but, if he’d realized what had been going on, he would have acted differently. He might even have given things a try with Lorren, for the sake of their friendship; he liked his girlfriend well enough, but they both knew their relationship was casual. Shifters didn’t complicate sex.
Instead, he’d been completely blind, and the betrayal had hit him even harder for it.
Almost everyone turned from him, believing her word over his. Holly, his family, his friends. There were a few notable exceptions. The Prince who left his family Pride, going with Coveney rather than letting him become a loner. Others followed, standing firmly between him and the mob. They’d become the Wyvern Pride in the following months.
They were everything to him. No wonder Lorren smirked as everything he held dear was burning to the ground.
Lorren hated him more than ever since he’d been acquitted, no doubt. She got entangled in another lie, years after his departure, and the Royal Pride ordered a witch to cast a truth spell this time. His name was cleared in the process, when the witch saw fit to ask about what had happened back then. Coveney still felt bittersweet about the whole thing; sure, now everyone knew he wasn’t the piece of shit they’d believed him to be, but at the same time, they hadn’t believed him enough to get her tested back then. A simple spell and he might never have had to leave his home, his family.
Her punishment was becoming a Squire, a slave of the Royal Pride, which explained what she was doing here. If the Royal Pride had been called to fight against them, she’d be part of the attacking force.
Coveney saw a dozen familiar faces behind her. He was relieved to see his own family, and their Alphas, were notably absent. It would have been messed up if their King had come to kill his own grandson. But it looked like the Royal Pride hadn’t sent anyone official after them - these were just a bunch of stuck-up idiots who’d acted on their own.
He could see Lorren’s glee from a distance as she shot arrow after arrow - all in his direction. He had to deflect the adversary in front of him in a one on one and avoid getting shot again.
Coveney’s tiger screamed out as a wolf head-butted him right in the shoulder where he’d been shot. Falling to his flank at the impact, he saw another arrow fly, aiming right at his heart now that he was knocked over.
He almost closed his eyes, but he was no coward, so he watched death coming at him.
A split second before the weapon found its mark, a high-pitched scream resounded in the skies.
Great. Eagles. The servants of the shifter council had joined the party. Not only was he going to die - he was dying knowing his Pride was doomed.
That was his last thought when the magnificent bird of prey descended, plunging at high speed towards the driveway-cum-battlefield.
And it caught the arrow in its talons, before batting its large wings and flying back up.
What the…
An eagle had saved him?
His tiger sniffed tentatively and caught a faint scent he wasn’t ever going to forget. Olives. Lavender.
And blood.
Shit.
The eagle - the female eagle, if his sense of smell didn’t betray him - had been shot by Lorren. She may not be injured badly enough to die on the spot, but it didn’t matter.
Coveney knew that, like everything else Lorren touched, her arrows were poisonous.
Chapter 2
Duty
The majestic bird of prey had, as usual, done more than her share. At Ava’s request, she’d leapt out of her skin and saved the day, grabbing the arrow aimed at the heart of the feline she’d observed from a distance for longer than she
cared to admit. Then, after another arrow grazed her wing, she’d carried on flying, bravely, and not only long enough to get them away from the battle. She’d stayed in charge of their body, knowing how little Ava could tolerate pain.
Poor eagle. A powerful, deadly beast, stuck with a wimp of a human.
You did well, birdie. Let me take over now.
She knew she had to put her big girl panties on; she was still bleeding, for one, and despite all her skills, her eagle couldn’t tie a bandage. Secondly, she needed to take over, because if she didn’t grow a spine, her eagle would start resenting her, some day. She might even stop listening to her at all- which was how shifters became feral.
The bird flew further into the woods, where they’d left her clothes and her car before setting out to meet the Wyvern Pride that morning.
Every day, Ava woke up, took a shower, brushed her teeth, and told herself in the mirror, “I’m going to go speak to the Wyvern Alphas today.” And, every day, after lurking at the edge of their land, staying far away from their patrollers, she came home without so much as exchanging a word with a Wyvern.
Well, almost every day. A couple of weeks back, she’d come across a large, powerful, and ruthless tigress from their pride. Yeah, that had helped with the jitters. Strangely, she’d gotten away without losing any limbs.
And today…
She’d felt the change in the air as soon as she left her hotel room, and every single piece of her had been tempted to run. But she hadn’t. Thinking of all the children they had playing around the pride house, thinking about the felines she’d observed from a distance for weeks, and, above all, thinking about that stern, stoic white tiger she hadn’t failed to notice, she’d let her braver self take over, and flown at high speed around the entire territory to see what they faced. It wasn’t often that Ava Flavia Dale could be proud of herself.
Shifting back, Ava cried out in pain, her hands pressing her side. The wound wasn’t huge, so it shouldn’t have felt like someone had plunged a white-hot knife inside her. Even she wasn’t that much of a wimp. Swallowing her bile, she peeked at the wound, long enough to see some disgusting green discharge coming out. She sniffed and cursed out loud. Shit. Poison.
What was she supposed to do now?
Ava was particularly unprepared for the shitty cards life had dealt her these last six months. She’d been pampered. As the fourth child, the child no one really needed, her place in her flock had been embarrassingly privileged. She had the benefit of being treated and respected as a Dale, yet no responsibility fell on her shoulders. So, she’d spent her time helping her siblings - her elder brother, in particular. Richard had started to take over for their parents, but he was so severe, the rest of the flock practically trembled when he entered a room. Having her by his side had mitigated their reaction. She was the soft Dale. The one people smiled at and offered cookies to.
And then, six months ago, her entire world had collapsed.
She’d been on the run the entire time since; twice, those who wished to kill her had come close. The old family friend she’d run to now laid in a shallow grave because he’d helped her.
She wasn’t the fourth child anymore. She was more than likely the only Dale left alive, and not for long, unless she got that wound looked at.
Painfully, Ava managed to pull her jeans up her legs. Dismissing her bra, she grabbed her t-shirt, but lifting her arms was excruciating, so she just pulled her leather jacket on.
She wasn’t far from her inn. She could make it.
And then what? Unless the owner was miraculously well-versed in the art of manufacturing antidotes, and willing to administer it to a shifter, she was still screwed. She couldn’t go to a hospital; regular human doctors hardly knew how to deal with shifters, and, anyway, they would ask questions. Origins, address, name. She couldn’t afford that sort of trail.
She had access to a fairly large pile of cash, though. Thank fuck for nameless, untraceable Swiss bank accounts, held by bankers who still remained faithful to her family. She could hire a witch.
Where would she find one, though?
One name came to mind. The name had been the answer to every question she’d asked herself for months, but each time she’d thought of it, she’d trembled.
In her travels, at the rare times she’d come across other shifters, they’d mentioned him. Everyone knew him, or knew of him, in any case. In this part of the world, he was known as a benevolent loner, someone people could turn to when they really needed help. She knew better.
If she wanted to live, she was going to have to seek out Knox, all the while knowing that there was a very real chance he would take one look at her and rip her throat out. Knox wasn’t benevolent. He certainly wasn’t a loner, either.
But he could end the madness that had ripped her family apart if he so wished. He could also probably put her in contact with someone who could heal her.
Again: if he so wished. He probably wouldn’t.
* * *
We have to go our separate ways,” Richard had told her, ignoring how she frantically shook her head.
The blood of their parents still soaked her long skirt, but while their betraying butchers were occupied, she managed to get away. Then, she’d seen two of her siblings, Aria and Rupert, take a knife through the heart. The monsters who’d turned on them had also raped them both, first, while Ava hid in the secret corridors between the walls of her home, like the coward she was.
She crawled to safety when the murderers dispersed, and, finally, after putting every single skill in her arsenal to good use, she got out. Richard had found her as soon as she’d left Dale and stepped into Rome.
She couldn’t lose Richard after all that - she just couldn’t.
“If we’re together, we’ll be ten times easier to spot. They’ll go after me,” he’d told her, only managing to make her cry harder. “You’ll get a head start. Then, you can fly far, far away from here. Fly to another country if you can, I know your bird can do it.”
“Never,” she’d yelled.
“Three thousand years, Ava. That’s how far back our family goes. We’re the first of our kind - the first eagles. Do you know what may happen to every eagle on earth if none of us live?”
She did know.
“America. You fly to America, you hear me? They say the First Wolf is in America, somewhere. You need to get to him and ask him to step in.”
Her eyes bulged in her face.
“He can end this, you know he can.”
“But he’s a monster.”
The original monster her grandmother told her tales about, the boogieman that would come and eat her if she was naughty. She wasn’t a kid anymore, but she recalled the tales.
“Those are just stories, Sister. And if they aren’t, it doesn’t change anything. I’ll be on the run for months, or years. They have everything they need to track me. You? There isn’t even a picture of you online, and I burned your room before leaving. You’re safe. Find him, and get him to help, or every single one of us dies.”
If he’d just told her to save her skin, she would never have left his side, but he had known better. He’d given her a mission she couldn’t refuse. So she hugged him hard, and shifted, before running for her life, remembering a lesson she’d been taught before she could write. Her blood didn’t belong to her.
She had to find the First Wolf. In New York, she learned that Fenrir went by Knox, nowadays. In Boston, she was told he sometimes came out of his den for his friends. In New Orleans, there were whispers of him lending his hand to a pride of felines a few months back. So, slowly, she’d crept closer and closer to her goal.
Six months, she’d survived. She’d live another day, she swore, dragging her feet all the way to her room. She collapsed on her bed and succumbed to the darkness.
Chapter 3
Choice
The fighting stopped just as suddenly and violently as it had started. One second, they were surrounded by so many enemies they had no
hope of living through the day; the next, the few amongst their enemies left standing were begging for their lives.
The woman who came to save the day looked like a Sports Illustrated model. What she did belonged in the realm of the impossible; at a flick of her wrist, a humongous wave rose from the nearby lake and took shape, undulating to wrap itself against the attackers’ throats. She smirked as they were dragged to the bottom of the lake.
He should have been happy. Instead, he felt sick to his stomach. That wasn’t a fight as much as an execution. Whatever creature these things, these Scions, were, he didn’t want to deal with them. Today, they’d been on his side, but who knew what they’d do tomorrow?
“You’re alright?” Rye asked him, catching his expression, right after the madness was over.
They’d made a deal with the devil, and won. Hopefully, they wouldn’t live to regret it too much.
The Scions weren’t the only reason why he was so wound up, though. Nor was losing a friend - a long-time friend he’d loved like a sister. Tracy would be missed and remembered.
But Tracy didn’t make him pace through the dining room, muttering to himself.
“I’m fine. Rain cleaned my wounds,” he replied.
Thankfully, he’d had a witch on hand. He might not have managed otherwise, as he knew how to take care of Lorren’s venom, but her silver, wolfsbane, and belladonna blend of poison acted fast on shifters.
“I wasn’t talking about your wounds,” Rye replied. “I haven’t seen you so agitated in a long time.”
Coveney closed his eyes.
“There was an eagle,” he said, finally. “A female, I think. She saved my life today; got in the way of one of Lorren’s arrows.”
