by Hattie Hunt
Also, Emma needed to talk to Chuck. If she volunteered, she had an inconspicuous reason to seek him out after the meeting. Emma raised her hand.
5
An hour later, Chuck looked back and forth between Emma and Jordan, incredulous. The sun bathed them in full light as they stood at Jordan’s car, a good distance from the group of gathered bears. Emma didn’t want to attract their attention.
“You’ve been keeping this up for two years?” Chuck shook his head and clenched his eyes shut. “Two years. What made you think that was even half of a shitty idea? Let alone, a good one?”
Emma bristled. “We didn’t think we’d be skipping over the official engagement and going straight to a wedding.” It kind of pissed Emma off that she had to explain herself. “We were planning on telling everyone we were breaking it off in a couple of weeks.”
Chuck raised his dark eyebrows.
Emma felt like a kid who’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Chuck had a way of making her see the error in her grand plans without saying much.
Still, he wasn’t seeing the point.
“Cheryl is trying to trap me. Us. She either wants to force me into a challenge or call my bluff. Apparently, a wedding was her scheme to do just that. Even if she really believes me and Jordan are together, we have been pushing off her suggestions of an engagement for months. She has been pushing harder ever since she kicked Joe out of the clan. It’s like she needs to make up for getting rid of the favorite son by marrying off the clan’s favorite couple.”
Gods, that last bit sounded conceited. But she was still convinced that she had seen Evan and Frank exchanging bets after the announcement.
Chuck rubbed his forehead. “You now I can’t interfere.”
“I am not asking you to. But you can’t tell me that this actually the right time to challenge Cheryl.”
“There is never a right time.” Chuck crossed his arms and looked over his shoulder towards the Elliot house. “It happens when it needs to happen. We know this has been coming. You need to make the decision for yourself. Do you want this, Emma?”
“Do I want what?”
“Marriage to Jordan? Being the alpha?”
Shit. What did she want? Emma looked at Jordan, but he wasn’t looking at her.
He had hardly looked at her since they left the meeting.
Because Emma had let him down. Pulled him deeper into her mess. He had been so supportive through everything.
How much of that had been him giving himself to her? He said he agreed. They weren’t mates. They couldn’t be mates because they didn’t share the same… soul song or whatever it was called.
For the first time, she actually had to consider. Did he want this? Deep down? Had she taken that from him?
Emma shook her head, banishing the thoughts. Becoming alpha meant finding some semblance of freedom, finally. So, yeah, she wanted that. “I need a little more time.” She spared a glance at Jordan, then focused on Chuck. “The wedding isn’t going to happen. But I couldn’t drop that bomb in the middle of a council meeting. Embarrassing Mama would have been disastrous.”
From the corner of her eye, Emma saw Jordan relax. The tension she hadn’t realized was there melted off his shoulders. That made her feel a little better. He’d been worried they would actually get married.
Chuck opened his palm and gave her a dry look that he only shared with her. She’d never seen him give anyone else that look. She exasperated him. “What’s done is done. The most I can do is step in if Cheryl starts causing trouble over this.”
Which… she would.
“You know how it works. It’s not my place to get in the middle of clan politics. I’ve already stepped in with your brothers.”
“I know.” And that was more important than this. One brother had nearly died and the other had been shunned. “Thank you.”
Chuck nodded, and turned away.
Emma sighed, leaning back against Jordan’s car.
He copied her, sliding close and wrapping an arm around her waist.
She leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I should have ended this masquerade right then and there. I just… I froze.” Jordan was the only person she could admit that to.
“Why?”
“Because you’re tangled up in this mess? Because I knew Mama would react poorly and I didn’t want you to—I don’t know, get more involved somehow?”
He chuckled. “You act like I haven’t spent the last fifteen years wrapped up in the middle of the Elliot clan. I may not be an Elliot, but I was sure as hell raised as one.”
“There is never a dull moment, that is for sure.” Then it hit her like a sack of bricks. “She’s already pushed two of her kids away. What happens if I stand up to her? What happens if I challenge her and don’t win?”
“You will.”
“I might not.” Because Cheryl might fight back, and she was the type of bear who would fight back dirty. “She wouldn’t have any more kids left.”
“She’d have me,” he said quietly, the impact of the statement evident in his tone.
“Yeah.”
“We’ll get this figured out. Sure, the wedding announcement was a bit of a kink in the plan, but you’ve been working towards this for years, Em.”
Yeah. She had, but realizing that if things went bad, Cheryl would get ugly on Jordan. It was something she hadn’t consciously even thought about, but it had been eating at the back of her mind. Jordan may have grown up in that house, but he’d never had to deal with that side of Cheryl before.
Jordan shrugged. “I could have stood up, too. I could have said something, but she caught us both off guard.”
How was he so infallibly positive about things? “Maybe you should be alpha.”
“Shit.” He laughed, pushing himself off the car. “You found me out. I was planning on taking over once you got Cheryl out of the way.”
Emma laughed. It felt good to laugh. Then she sighed and stood. “Well, I guess we should go talk to Cheryl.”
“Do you have a plan?” His tone was light, but his dark eyes were pinched.
“Not really.” She’d only been practicing what to say for the past decade, and only been seriously thinking about for the past two years.
“She isn’t going to be happy.”
That was an understatement. “Nope. But she should also have known better.”
“What if she doesn’t let us off the hook?”
“She will. She doesn’t have a choice.” Because Emma wouldn’t leave her one.
Emma’s stomach churned, and she reached for Jordan’s hand as they walked up to Cheryl.
Mal hovered near the surface, wrapping her in his bear strength, ready to come out if he needed.
Emma hoped it wouldn’t come to that. She didn’t want to challenge Cheryl yet, didn’t want to put on the mantle of responsibility that came with the clan.
Cheryl was deep in conversation with Steve and Donna.
Emma growled in irritation. Did those two ever leave her side anymore? Besides that, there were still a lot of people around for what she needed to do.
Well, maybe it would be better if people were around.
Emma wished Joe was there or Brett. People liked the twins, and if they were on her side, maybe more people would be too. Not that people didn’t like her. She knew they did.
But Cheryl was alpha.
For now.
Emma was going to be sick.
Eventually, Cheryl looked up, meeting Jordan’s gaze with a smile before turning to Emma with a resigned expression. “Emma, dear. Congratulations on your wedding date.”
“What day did you say that was?” Emma made herself drop Jordan’s hand, even though she would’ve preferred to keep him close. “Because it was news to us.”
Cheryl waved it off with a dismissive hand. “Details.”
“Of which the concerned parties are particularly lacking.” Emma shot a look at Cheryl’s ever-present cronies. “Can we
talk in private?”
She let Mal shift forward, just a little. Blonde grizzly fur rose around the nape of her neck and along her shoulders. Her thin-strapped tank top didn’t hide much.
Donna narrowed her eyes, her hackles rising.
Cheryl was one thing, but Donna was another. She was a brown bear. A small brown bear and one that Emma could take in about one minute. “About the details that you’re not privy to?”
“What is there to talk about?” Cheryl’s tone was flat, lacking the usual derision she used when talking to her daughter. She didn’t shift out, but Emma could see her bear close to the surface, her eyes glowing a soft mauve.
Emma forced herself to take in a slow, steadying breath. “Plenty.”
Cheryl eyed her for a second and then sighed. “Make it quick, then. There are clan issues I need to deal with.”
Good enough. Emma spun and made her way back to the house. She considered trying to talk to Cheryl right there, but then she would lose her only additional leverage. Maybe, for once in her life, Cheryl would be reasonable. If not, a public declaration of her and Jordan’s split would most likely set Cheryl back in line. Emma could at least hope.
Emma stepped inside and closed the door behind Cheryl, cutting off her two cronies before they could follow. She didn’t need them getting in the way or voicing their opinions.
Cheryl raised an eyebrow, but let it stand. “What is so important?”
Jordan stepped in front of Emma, his height level with Cheryl. What the hell was he doing? This was not the time to play hero.
Emma looped her finger into his belt loop to pull him back.
Jordan swiped her hand away. “Emma and I aren’t getting married.”
Cheryl laughed. And laughed.
Jordan’s confidence waned as she carried on, and he shot a look back at Emma.
She rolled her eyes. He should have known better.
“Son, the two of you have been paired for nearly five years. You don’t just not get married.” She had always treated him like a child. Called him son when she had two boys of her own.
“You don’t understand.” Jordan’s bear pulled forward, his nose elongating into a snout, ears rising from shaggy hair in golden contrast. “We are not getting married.”
Emma pushed him aside, and Jordan turned to her with a snarl. Too much bear. Jordan never snarled. “Mama,” she said, putting a hand on Jordan’s arm.
His bear pulled back.
Emma sighed and faced her mother squarely. “We haven’t been together for two years.”
Cheryl’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe you. You wouldn’t keep a secret like that from me.”
Wouldn’t she? “We didn’t know how to tell you. It was just… easier not to.”
“So, you’re a coward?”
She would go there. “No one wants to deal with you.” Mal’s growl enhanced her voice, making her point for her.
Cheryl puffed up at the challenge, her shoulders hunching forward as her muscles bulged. She pushed the shift just to the limit of ripping her clothes, a mastery she had accomplished long ago and used to great effect.
Emma hated it. “We are not mated. We do not want to mate. And we will not mate.”
“And if I command you?”
“I will reject our marriage at the altar in front of the entire clan.”
Cheryl blanched. She hadn’t thought of that, it was obvious. She tended to forget that Emma wasn’t her perfectly obeying daughter, though how was anyone’s guess. That was the reason she hated Emma so much, at least that’s what Emma guessed.
“You wouldn’t do that to me.”
Emma chortled. Wouldn’t do that to her. “Do I have a choice?”
The woman considered that for moment, looking between Jordan and Emma. And then back to Jordan. She had raised him. Emma could see the wheels turning, looking for a way to get him on her side.
Jordan put his hand around Emma’s waist without breaking Cheryl’s gaze. He pulled Emma to his side, not like one would a lover, but in the way a brother protects his sister.
Cheryl frowned. “And what am I supposed to say to the clan?”
“Maybe that you should have asked us before announcing it?” Emma couldn’t decide if she should call Cheryl out directly. She was walking a fine line. For the moment, things seemed to be going their way.
“Did you talk to Chuck about this?”
Emma took a risk. “No.” She shrugged. “I just wanted details on what he would be needing me to do for field day.” Thank the gods she had grown up with two older brothers she’d had to lie to occasionally.
It had been the right thing to say because it gave Cheryl a way out. She made a show of consideration.
Emma wasn’t going to let her backpedal. “I don’t care when you do it or how, but you need to tell the clan that the wedding isn’t happening.”
Cheryl raised an eyebrow.
“Do it however you want. But, you must do it, Mama. If you won’t, I will go out there right now and announce it to the world.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
Mal tensed, retreating into Emma’s mind. This is too easy.
I know.
Emma nodded and stepped away from Jordan. “Know this, Mama. Jordan is my best friend. We love each other. But we are not mates. You can’t force it.”
“You have made your point.”
“Okay. Well, let me be more clear.” Emma leaned in, so Cheryl was sure to hear her next words. “You don’t get to treat him the way you treated us.”
Cheryl turned a frigid gaze toward Emma.
Yeah. She’d made her point.
6
Mason woke before sunrise. He could function on a few hours of sleep. Most days, he did. But last night… well. He wouldn’t call the tossing and turning and staring at the ceiling sleep. He’d been nervous. Today was the first day he’d introduce himself to the community as someone smart enough to be a teacher and it was going to be a disaster.
New town.
New job.
New people… shifters.
Shifters.
Who would have thought? When he had first been approached by Chuck for the position at Svelte Academy, it had seemed like the perfect opportunity. Now, he wasn’t so sure. He thought he would be teaching school. Math, English, history. Which was what he’d been trained for.
Teaching a room full of juvenile shapeshifters and paranormals? It kind of felt like he was going to teach at Hogwarts.
Field day had been his idea when he first arrived. It was spring. Normal schools would be letting out soon for summer. Svelte went year-round. In the public schools, back in DC, the school Mason had worked at always did a field day to let off some of the spring steam. Get outside, run off some energy, give out ribbons, then buckle down for the rest of the quarter.
Apparently at Svelte, the kids already had what Mason would consider a variation of a field day. On a weekly basis. Except, their excursions took the kids off into the woods to practice their shifting. That on its own was something Mason couldn’t wrap his head around.
The first time he’d shifted, he’d been arguing with his parents. Probably about a missed trip to a Smithsonian. They’d all been standing in the kitchen, and quills had just erupted right out of Mason’s back. They’d skewered his shirt, and he’d wiped a hand across his face without understanding what was happening or realizing that he was suddenly… spikey. He ended up with three quills stuck in his cheek.
That had been the first time he’d heard of shifters. His parents were both shifters, and they had been suppressing their spirits for more than a decade. In DC, they didn’t have a clan or a pack. They were loners, trying to live a normal life and make ends meet. They’d wanted Mason to do the same.
For the most part, he had. But once he’d discovered his connection to his spirit animal, he couldn’t let it go. He never shifted in front of his parents again. At first, he just ambled around his room. When he was shifted, his senses wer
e heightened. Hearing, smell. His eyesight, already lacking, didn’t benefit from the shift because porcupines had bad eyesight to begin with, but his other senses did. Mason found himself shifting in darkened alleys, parks, woodlands. Anywhere he could shift secretly. Because living in DC as an African porcupine wasn’t exactly natural.
Which was why he had overestimated his abilities to teach at Svelte. Things in Troutdale weren’t what he’d expected them to be. And he’d already made of fool of himself on more than one occasion.
Like with Emma at the bakery. He still didn’t know what had happened with that. He knew better. Or at last he thought he did. But it just kind of happened. Like a freaking child, he had half shifted in public. She’d been right to reprimand him. He wasn’t quite as sure about being smacked in the face, though.
Mason flipped through the pages on his clipboard, checking off the events for the day.
Sack race
3-Legged race
Parachute Popcorn
Sprint
Long jump
Tug-O-war
Relay Race
High Jump
Something for everybody. He hoped.
“You’re here early,” a woman’s silky voice said, followed by the scent of lavender and spun sugar.
Mason jumped, and his clipboard clattered to the barn floor. The barn served as a type of gym… of sorts. The papers, only half clipped, scattered around his feet. He spun around to find himself inches away from Emma.
Her amber eyes lit up the entire room, her face framed in a halo of platinum blonde hair.
He swallowed, forcing his heart to start again. “Last minute touches, you know.” Mason dropped to the floor and gathered his papers. He had stared at her too long. Right? He totally had.
“Sorry I scared you.” She knelt and picked up a piece of paper near her foot.
He cleared his throat. He must really be nervous for her to scare him by saying hello. “I figured you’d be at the bakery.”
“I take Tuesdays and Fridays off. School duties.”
“Right.” Of course. She was a shifter. All the adults took turns working at the school. Which was weird. A neat kind of weird, but still weird.
