Outcast Box Set

by Emilia Hartley

  When everything hurt, and she thought she was only steps away from breaking, she would climb in through the shed window. She wasn’t sure how they knew, but they always did. Cohen would slink out to the shed with a book. He’d pass it to her, some new fantastical tale about far away places, and fall into a chair. Every time, he’d close his eyes and snore, but she was convinced he faked it.

  He’d made her feel safe in a time when her life was very much not safe. She leaned forward and let her head rest on the steering wheel. If she agreed to a dying man’s request, she would do it for the sake of the man Cohen had once been. She would repay him for what he’d done and then be rid of him. If he wanted to run away and seclude himself from the world again, who was she to argue?

  A small part of her knew it was wrong. The seclusion had changed him. She was sure of it. Letting him retreat to it would only make it worse. Could she let him do that? Could she let him hurt himself for the sake of the safety of others?

  There was a knock on her window. Her head shot up, heart racing. Archer stood outside her car door with a disgruntled look on his face and a paper coffee cup in his hand. He motioned for her to roll down her window.

  “Gage did it again,” Archer grumbled.

  She was about to ask what when he thrust the coffee cup at her. She took it with confusion, feeling the warmth of its contents seep into her fingertips.

  “The little shit keeps asking for complicated drinks and then telling me he doesn’t like them.”

  “One would think you’d have learned by now,” Ashe commented.

  “I’m not built to learn. Apparently, I’m built to take commands.”

  Ashe scowled. If Archer was going to lead the Packs, he would have to change who he was. She wasn’t sure that was going to happen. Her gaze drifted to the house and found Cohen leaning in the door way, hands shoved in his pockets as if he could be casual. She knew his entire body was on alert.

  Tightening her grip on the coffee, she made a decision. Ashe was not going to let Cohen slip away from the Pack. He was the strength they were going to need. He just didn’t believe in himself yet.

  “Tell Gage thanks for the coffee.”

  “I’ll tell him to fuck off,” Archer grumbled, saluting her as she put the car into reverse and backed out of the driveway.

  Cars were beginning to line the side of the road, the bigger trucks choosing to park in the field just off the road. It seemed the Packs were throwing another shindig. It helped them feel more like a family and more inclined to help one another after all they’d gone through. While Ashe approved of what Joanna was trying to do, she knew there was no place for her at these gatherings.

  Pack meant something different for Ashe.

  She could feel Cohen’s gaze on her as she drove away. It wasn’t until she was nearly downtown that it fell away. She wanted nothing to do with whatever lay between them. If she was lucky, it was only Sampson’s request. That was what the cards had foreseen. That was all.

  She climbed the stairs to her apartment, coffee in hand. Unable to wrap her mind around anything useful she grabbed a paperback fantasy novel and crashed into a comfy chair to lose herself.

  Chapter Four

  The buzz of her phone in her lap woke her. The room was bursting with the first light of sunrise. Ashe wiped at the drool on her chin with the back of her hand and swore at herself for sleeping in the chair all night. She’d fallen asleep in the midst of a steamy scene and her dreams had been haunted by it.

  She dreamt she was the heroine, rushing in to save her people. Cohen was the love interest, standing bravely at her side. Together, they escaped to the privacy of a cave in the wilds. By the light of the fire, Cohen discovered the creamy expanse of her skin.

  The phone buzzed again. She shook her head to dispel the lingering dream. She wanted to brush her teeth and cleanse her mouth of the taste that filled it.

  “Hello?” she croaked.

  “Ashe?” Cohen’s voice was weak on the other end, as if he could barely manage to speak.

  Her heart tore and she sat up straight. “What’s wrong?”

  “Dad…” There was a long pause. Dread hit her, and she knew what he would say next. “Dad passed away in the night.”

  She retraced the day before. Sampson had seemed better, as if life had been momentarily breathed back into him. How could it have taken such a turn overnight? Ashe didn’t understand. She’d laid out his medicines, each one made to help him survive a little longer. She’d secretly hoped he might live to see Joanna and Archer’s wedding in a week.

  His words of regret returned to her. They’d been the words of a man knocking on death’s door, filled with remorse for a poorly lived life. Sampson had known. Ashe was certain of it.

  No! She refused to believe that Sampson’s time had been up. The man had been banging on Death’s door for weeks. He’d kicked at it and screamed at it, begging the specter to carry him away. It hadn’t been Sampson’s time. Not with all the work she’d put into his health.

  Something had happened.

  “Cohen?” she whispered, knowing shifters had excellent hearing. “I’m going to send you the kind of message no one can hear. Just hold on.”

  She didn’t wait for him to respond. Ashe hung up. She settled into her chair and reached out into the universe with her soul. It detached with practiced ease. Once she’d had a place of her own, she spent a small time shut inside, only going out in her astral form. Killian’s presence had scared her into almost never leaving. This had been the only safe way for her to visit her friend.

  Her astral form landed in the kitchen of Vancourt house. Cohen sat at the table with his head in his hands. She could have sworn the shadows around his eyes were dripping, falling like tears onto the table. His phone was on the table beneath his head, as if he waited for her to text him. The urge to touch him, to rub his back, was overwhelming. She did reach out and touch his shoulder to draw his attention.

  Cohen’s head snapped up. He searched the kitchen for the presence. Ashe had to shift her astral body so that he could see it. When he finally found her, a look of surprise nearly chased away the sorrow on his face.

  “Listen to me carefully,” Ashe began. “I don’t think your father died of natural causes.”

  Cohen opened his mouth and closed it, his jaw tightening. Even though no one could hear her, if he spoke to her, people could hear him. So, he stood from the table and made his way to the door.

  “Where are you going?” Ashe hissed.

  Cohen looked up the staircase to his right and shouted that he was going for a drive. Before anyone could stop him, he slammed the door behind him. Ashe just watched, utterly lost. What had she done wrong? She knew someone had killed Sampson. She knew it down to her bones.

  So, why had Cohen run?

  ***

  Seeing her like that, immaterial and nearly non-existent, had hollowed Cohen. His throat went dry at the sight of her. The urge to pull her into his arms and bury his face into the softness of her had been overwhelming, but she hadn’t actually been there. Her spectral form, a gift he assumed she got from her mother, made him yearn for something real.

  So, he’d grabbed his keys and left before anyone could stop him. The news Ashe had whispered in his ear needed to be discussed, but he couldn’t do it like that. If she was right, they would need privacy. He didn’t know a place more private than hers.

  He lifted his hand to knock on her door. He felt an odd sensation to turn around and leave overcome him. He shook his head and let his knuckles rap against the faux wood. The sensation to turn away still pulled at him. Part of his mind told him this was the wrong place. Thankfully, the ever-present roar of his bear overpowered the feeling.

  The bear knew where Ashe was. It knew at all times.

  Cohen ignored whatever that might mean and knocked again. This time the door flew open. Ashe looked up at him, wide eyed and ruffled. Her clothing was askew, the same dress wrapped around her figure.

  �
��Did you sleep in that, or…” He paused and searched the apartment behind her for signs of another person. The bear thrashed against his mind, the roar of anger louder than ever as they considered another person sharing Ashe’s bed. It tore at his mind, like claws raking against his brain.

  She quickly righted her dress, cheeks growing red. “What are you trying to insinuate?”

  Cohen sniffed the air, pressing past her. He couldn’t find the scent of another man in the apartment and it calmed his beast. The thoughts of someone else taking that thin dress off her…

  “I’ll have you know I’m still a virgin.” Ashe lifted her chin, even though her face grew even darker.

  The bear rumbled in his mind.

  Perfect.

  He shushed the greedy beast roaring inside of him. It wasn’t Cohen’s place to claim her virginity. It wasn’t even his place to care about it. Ashe was just a person who could help him. But, the bear thought of other ways she could help. It sent him images of her hands wrapped around his cock; her thick lips smiling up at him; long lashes rimming her bedroom eyes as she stroked him.

  Cohen had to shake his head to clear the carnal imageries the bear kept feeding him from his mind. But still, the bear continued to steal glances at Ashe as she went about the living room. It growled and grinned wildly when she bent over to pick something up – the sight of her taut behind enough to make his cock react. Cohen jammed his hands in his pockets and closed his eyes against the bear’s greedy gaze. It took all of his willpower to counter its primal desires.

  “I’m not here to tell you how to live your life,” he began, daring to crack open his eyes. “You visited me and handed me some heavy news. I wanted to see you in person, so we could have a proper conversation about this.”

  Because she couldn’t be right. Cohen had stayed under that blasted roof every day and night just to make sure no one else tried to be as dumb as Grover. Sure, Sampson had outlived his usefulness as an Alpha, but that was no reason to murder anyone in their bed. Yet, Ashe claimed that someone indeed had done just that. And right under his nose.

  Ashe flopped unceremoniously onto the couch, her hair floating like a dark halo for a fleeting moment. Then, her head fell back, and she let out a sigh. Cohen stepped closer and sat on the edge of an ottoman. He did not dare sit on the couch when all his bear could think about was the line of her cleavage and how easily the fabric around her firm body would rip away.

  He set his elbows on his knees and looked to the floor before he spoke. “Tell me what you think happened.”

  Ashe put her feet on the ottoman he sat on. “Clearly, it wasn’t a challenge or else it would’ve been clear. There’s no way to make a physical fight look as though he died in his sleep. There would be bruises or scrapes.”

  Cohen nodded in agreement. Sampson had looked… peaceful when he found his father that morning. There’d been a surprising amount of emotions roaring through his head when he had found his father dead. Far more than he’d ever expected. As the wave of sentiments resurfaced, Cohen’s hand gravitated toward the bare skin of Ashe’s leg. The touch grounded him in ways he never thought possible. For a moment, he was lost in the sensation of skin on skin as he rubbed his thumb back and forth.

  “Cohen, are you listening to me?”

  His head shot up. His heart gave one thump. Had he spaced out? Had the bear taken control?

  But, the room looked fine. Everything was in one piece. Ashe was right where he’d left her, no fear on her face. If anything, she showed a small amount of annoyance.

  She sucked on her lower lip, wide eyes filling with worry. Cohen growled, as if he could chase away whatever was scaring her. When he spoke, his voice was slightly hoarse.

  “No, I will confess I didn’t hear you.”

  “I said someone poisoned Sampson using my remedies. If this gets out, the Pack is going to blame me. It will be a literal witch hunt.” She grabbed a throw pillow and hugged it tight, her feet slipping away from his touch, her knees folding into her chest.

  Seeing her this afraid made Cohen’s hands clench. He tried to put them on his knees, forcing his fingers to lay flat, but they kept curling. “I doubt it. Most of them wanted him dead. While my father was a decent leader and kept outside threats away, he was not a good man. Besides, everyone else thinks his death was of natural causes.”

  Ashe sucked in a breath, holding it before nodding. Cohen left the ottoman to sit beside her on the couch. His side pressed against hers as he placed his arm along the back of the couch. He was surprised when she leaned into him, resting her head on his chest.

  Inside him, the bear grew quiet. It settled down, seemingly calm and content for the first time in Cohen’s life. He looked down at the woman with awe. His chest tightened, and he couldn’t help wrapping his arm around her shoulders and holding her tight.

  “What if it does get out that it was murder?”

  “Then we will prove it wasn’t you.” He made it sound easy, but he knew it was going to be a challenge. If someone had slipped into the house, beneath his nose and poisoned Sampson, it was going to be hard to find them.

  He looked down at the woman in his arms and wondered if this was all part of her plan. She could have easily slipped something poisonous into the medicines she’d been feeding Sampson. Then, once he died, she could be smart and blame someone else. She could very well be using Cohen and he was falling for it.

  Beware of the witch, their father had always told them. He’d forbidden them from even talking to her, as if she could use their own voices to bewitch them. Perhaps she could, now that Cohen found himself drawn to her every moment of the day. Sampson’s command was long gone, and their voices freed, but now he found himself tangled with her.

  He pulled away from her and stood up. Outside the window, Stonefall bustled with the life of the early morning. A plush papasan chair faced the window, a forgotten novel laying splayed on the floor beside it. He bent to pick it up, turning it over to study the kilt wearing man on the cover, and snorted.

  Cohen needed to get away from this place. He needed to get away from Stonefall, from the damned Pack he’d been forced to lead, and from the enchantress behind him. She was clever, weaving her words so that Cohen could not tell lie from truth. He didn’t know what to believe, and the need to protect her was strange and overwhelming.

  “How about this,” Cohen bartered. “You break the bond my brother forced me into and I’ll make sure there is no witch hunt out to get you.”

  “This feels wrong.”

  He spun on her and closed the distance in two long strides. He leaned toward her and gripped the back of the couch, caging her where she sat. This close, his heart lodged itself in his throat. Her lips parted and caught his attention. From there, his gaze fell down the front of her, captivated. She could be lying, could be using him to mask her revenge on the Pack, but his body didn’t care.

  It wanted nothing more than to capture her mouth and revel in the taste of her. The bear rumbled in agreement, greedy for the sweet tang of her pomegranate lips. The dress would rip away easily and there was enough room on the couch to take her. His cock agreed, jumping to the ready.

  What kind of spell had she woven over him? He jerked upright, nearly stumbling away from her.

  She said nothing about his strange behavior as he spun away from her. Probably because she knew what she’d done. It was intentional. The normally loud and vicious bear said nothing. It only tried to turn him back in Ashe’s direction, as if it could not get enough of her.

  ***

  Ashe watched Cohen pace the length of her apartment. It wasn’t much, considering she couldn’t afford a bigger place. He’d reeled back from her as if burnt by silver, but she knew she wore none.

  Once more, the force inside her rose and propelled itself toward Cohen. It tugged and begged for her to close the distance. Ashe stifled a nervous laugh, unable to believe the force would ask her to comfort a clearly distressed bear shifter. It seemed like asking for trouble
.

  For pain.

  “Fine,” she snapped, unable to listen to the wearying pace of his footsteps or the pleading of the voice in her head. “I’ll do what I can to break the bond you’re so damn afraid of, but I’m going to warn you that I don’t even know where to begin.”

  Cohen stopped. His head spun toward her. “Don’t tell me that. Tell me you can break it. Now.”

  She scoffed. “You’re awfully demanding for someone who doesn’t want to be an Alpha.”

  “And you’re awfully useless for someone who claims to be a witch.”

  She shot up and flung her hand toward the door. “Get out.”

  Cohen opened his mouth to argue. She wanted to pull the breath from his mouth and silence his whining. She wanted to kick his ass down the stairs that brought him to her door. He shouldn’t have even been able to knock on her door. The warding sigil she’d drawn should have made him turn around and forget why he was even there.

  “I don’t have to listen to you berate and threaten me,” Ashe began. Where did this stubborn strength come from? Where did she get the courage to make demands of Cohen? She had no clue, but she was grateful for it as he looked at her, completely lost for words.

  His surprise dropped into a smoldering glower. She didn’t care. He could hate himself all he wanted, but Ashe was trying. She worked to be someone that she could love, even if no one else in this world would love her.

  Cohen closed the space between them with two quick strides. Her breath caught in her throat, but she didn’t back away, holding her ground in the face of his menacing presence. His eyes searched hers, the shadows pulled back to reveal the animal glowing behind them. The bear was so close to the surface. It spilled out in every direction, a being larger than Cohen’s body could contain.