Dad nodded and with one hand, picked up his cards, working them the best he could. “The number one rule is to stay calm. That’s incidentally the one I broke behind the bar that night. Emotions can overpower you and release the wolf at any time if you’re without a stone.”
I organized my rummy hand. “The stones are the only way? And there’s no way to get more?”
“Hunters saw to that,” Dad said, drawing a card from the pile. “Blew up the mines a hundred years ago. There’s talk of someone developing a protective serum, but it’s still only a rumor.”
“Someone? So it’s not just us and that one bad pack?”
He arched an eyebrow. “No. We’re not the only ones like us,” he said, deftly discarding a three of clubs. “You know that now.”
“Yeah.” I thought about telling him about Morgan, but something held me back.
“Don’t worry about Ezra’s pack for now,” he said. “I’ll be keeping us safe for the time being.”
“Ezra—the old gray one. He’s one of the original pioneer pack?”
“Unfortunately. He was turned when he was on the Oregon Trail and he’s been a terror of the Northwest ever since. I’d never met him before last week, but I’d heard he was on the move.”
“So that’s what happened in the alley?”
He motioned for me to play. “The necklaces were apparently stolen in a break-in a few weeks ago. There was no forced entry and they were the only things taken, so I wasn’t sure it was connected to the burglaries around town. I wasn’t going to tell you girls. Heck, I didn’t tell anyone but Ivan. Then last week, I got wind that a fencing operation was trying to unload them to some interested buyers. The only one who’d find lupine stones precious is a werewolf. Or a hunter trying to draw out wolves.”
“But it probably was Kyle who broke in,” I said, shaking my head.
“I think so. Sorry, Lily,” Dad said. “Anyway. I confronted that pack in the alley and they smashed my stone during the fight. It was night and I was angry—I started changing. I rushed off into the hills before I did anything violent. That’s when that snare injured me and I had to take shelter.”
“How’d you get out of the trap?”
“It wasn’t through the bone. Tearing the meat off my arm was a lot better than the alternative.”
I shook my head. “Awful.”
“Don’t worry. We know who probably has the stones now.”
“Ezra’s pack.”
“Two young men, one middle-aged female, and him. They’re vicious but small in numbers. It’s a miracle you were able to get one of the stones back,” he said. “At least the twins are covered for now.”
“Right,” I said, realizing Dad hadn’t figured out yet that one of the stones the twins now wore belonged to someone else. That wasn’t a huge surprise, since Morgan’s stone matched mine—the same moon design. They were identical. Maybe all the lupine stones carried the same marks, I didn’t know. But Morgan’s stone had saved Fawn, even if he’d had been working with Ezra’s pack just for the short term as he claimed. He’d put himself at risk for me.
“We’ll figure out how to get the other stone back for you. We’ll find a way to outsmart Ezra’s pack, or negotiate a treaty, something.” Dad frowned down at the cards in his hand, fine lines creasing his forehead. “I can live without one. I’ve done it before. I’ll figure out a way to schedule my shifts around the full moons. You, on the other hand, won’t be in Pioneer Falls forever. You need your stone to go out into the world.”
I couldn’t see how my going away to college was ever going to work. How could I ever feel my family would ever be safe? “But Bowman, he’s still out there. Maybe other hunters. Doesn’t it make sense to stick together?”
“I can handle things. Don’t you know the expression ‘lone wolf’?”
I fanned out a straight on the table and my dad swore under his breath. “You’re not a lone wolf,” I said. “You started a family.”
“The temptation not to be alone was too great for me to resist.” He leaned back in his chair, considering the cards in his hand. “You deserve a chance to make your own life. Have your own choices.”
“But Mom didn’t know. She didn’t get a choice. I found the letter you wrote her. That was my first clue you’d been hiding this secret.”
Dad sucked in a breath and scanned my expression. “Your mother ultimately did leave,” he said. “She chose to run from what I was, what you three could become. That was a choice.”
I laid my cards facedown and leaned across the table toward him. “I’m not leaving you guys. I mean, this is war. Hunters? A rival pack? There’s no way you can handle this alone. Face it. You need me.”
He looked at me for a long time, like he was considering my plea, but then, after a moment, abandoned his cards on the table. “Go gather what you need,” he said, pointing to the light fading outside. “Night is coming.”
Chapter Eighteen
A chilly breeze whistled through Pioneer Falls the next morning. Autumn seemed to have deepened overnight in our backyard, with the big maple showering a crisped collection of yellow, brown, and red leaves. I sipped a weak cup of coffee and watched them tumble. The seasons were going to be a problem. The nights would grow longer as we moved deeper into fall. I didn’t know how my father would explain he couldn’t take evening shifts some nights, how I’d have to limit my movements, too. I didn’t know if Maggie was going to be okay with me skipping night shifts every few weeks.
As I contemplated the dismal future, a flash of color on the fence caught my attention. Something green was snagged on one of the boards. I threw a coat on over my pajamas and slipped on some boots. The heavy scent of woodsmoke laced the air as I made my way to the fence.
I recognized it as I got closer. “Morgan,” I said aloud, lifting his green scarf from where it was caught. Just touching it made me remember how he’d made me feel. I wrapped it around my neck, noticing his scent was still on it—the woods, musk, a cologne I couldn’t name.
I inhaled the scent. It brought me back to the moments when his hands had threaded through my hair, when his lips had pressed against mine. I exhaled, trying to breathe out the heat rising in my body. I’d never felt so close to someone so quickly. Never before had kissing someone felt like breathing.
This was no accident. He wanted me to know he’d been by, and maybe he was even watching me find the scarf. I turned in a circle, surveying the trees beyond the fence, the garage, the porch, the neighbor’s yard, the fence. No Morgan. I felt a little let down that he wasn’t there.
The wind kicked up again, pulling at the edges of my unbuttoned coat. I pulled Morgan’s scarf tighter around my neck, feeling the warmth of the chunky knit against my skin, the rough texture of the wool yarn. He’d said that he wouldn’t let anything happen to me. That I was all he thought about. That we were meant to be. I turned that comment over in my mind. I didn’t have much faith in destiny anymore.
Two weeks before, my destiny had been to leave Pioneer Falls, make it a memory in the rearview mirror so I could start my real life. I’d believed my future involved a college degree, maybe an apartment with Kyle in the big city. But that wasn’t real. I would have learned about our curse eventually. The truth isn’t something you can hide forever. Especially the truth about yourself. So it seems like destiny is only shaped by what you believe it to be at the time. And maybe the future, too.
My future after all this involved protecting my family’s secret, fending off hunters, fighting a turf war with other supernatural creatures. It was so far from normal. And falling for someone didn’t seem like it should be part of the package deal. But...Morgan.
I breathed in his scent again from the scarf as I climbed the steps of the back porch. How could an attraction that strong not be part of my destiny? I didn’t want to think about not seeing him again. Not giving him a chance to explain. And he wasn’t going to let that happen. He’d left this piece of him behind to tell me he hadn’t left to
wn.
Maybe because he needed his lupine stone back. But maybe, I hoped, because he needed me.
***
Rain pounded against the windows of Pioneer Perk. Dad was home with my sisters and I was working my night hours, my first shift back since the full moon. I stared out at the storm as I wiped down the tables. In the kitchen, Maggie whistled a jazz tune as she finished up her prep work for the next day. On the counter, my tip jar starved as usual, only a handful of coins in the bottom.
It was a typical Tuesday night. Normal, the thing I’d wanted most when everything was falling apart. And yet, I wasn’t the same. I’d never be again.
Maggie emerged from the back, wished me a good closing, and then donned her slicker. The chime over the door sounded as she left. Back behind the counter, I made the final pot of drip coffee of the night and settled into reading another chapter of Wuthering Heights. The paper was due Friday, and I had more than half of the book still to go.
The calm didn’t last long. A few customers stopped in for hot chocolate just to escape the rain for a few minutes. Then I filled a couple Thermoses of coffee for some regulars on their way to their shifts at the mill. As the place cleared out again, Sheriff Polson came in, rain sheeting off her hat and jacket.
“You haven’t been out in this all night, have you?” I asked her, wishing I had a towel to hand her. I started making her standard order, since I knew what she wanted.
“Been looking for Cooper,” she said. “Not at the cemetery or his dad’s place. Not answering his phone. You seen him?”
I shook my head. “I haven’t talked to him since Sunday.”
She gave me a long glance, like she was thinking about telling me something, but then shook her head. “If you do hear from him, have him call me.”
I wondered if she had bad news about Cooper’s dad, but I didn’t press her. I slid a latte and an oatmeal cookie across the counter. “Stay warm.”
She handed me some cash. “Thanks, I plan to stay inside at the station the rest of the night. Fingers crossed, of course.”
After the sheriff left, I flipped the sign to Closed and locked the door. Then I counted out the till and then put the pouches of change and deposit into Maggie’s safe. I gathered up the garbage and recycling for the run to the alley. The storm was still beating down. This would have to be a chuck-and-run operation. I held my raincoat over my head with one hand and dashed out the door to pitch the small bags into the bins.
On the way back in, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned in time to see a black wolf at the edge of the parking lot loping toward the woods. I reached back for the door handle with shaky hands, my gaze on the creature the whole time. But it didn’t look back at me. It didn’t stop. Maybe it was a real wolf, I thought. Maybe.
Shivering but relieved it’d gone, I pulled the door open and stepped back inside. I slipped off my wet coat and hung it up on a hook. In the mirror nearby, I could see the raincoat hadn’t done a very good job of keeping me dry. Water drops dotted my cheeks and my bangs were wet, plastered against my forehead. I washed my hands, then patted at the mess with paper towels until I was mostly dry. Maggie’s jazz music had ended, leaving only the sound of the rain against the windows, the hum of appliances. It was almost too quiet.
As I tossed the towels in the bin, I caught a familiar scent. Forest. I froze, not daring to breathe. The wolf I’d seen. Had he been alone? I suddenly felt very vulnerable. I inched over toward the coat rack. My cell phone was in my purse—maybe I could reach it and call for help.
But then, the forest scent hit me again, this time with a hint of musk and a familiar cologne. I shut my eyes, breathing it in for a second to be sure. Then I walked slowly out from the kitchen.
“Hi,” Morgan said. “I heard you have the best scones in town.”
My heart flipped at the sight of him standing at the counter, at the sound of his voice. He must’ve snuck in when I raced outside to throw out the trash. “That’s true.”
“I’ll take your favorite flavor.” His hair, wet from the downpour, hung across his eyes—those amber gold eyes that always seemed to drink in the light.
I bit my lip to keep from smiling as I rescued a blueberry scone from the plastic wrap I’d put over the tray earlier that evening. Instinctively, I turned the drip machine back on and loaded in a fresh filter and grounds.
“They’re better warmed up. It’ll just take a minute,” I said.
“Brilliant.” Morgan stepped away to shake the water off his rain parka and then settled it on the back of one of the chairs at the counter. “Back on the night shift, it appears,” he said. “Don’t like to see you here late like this and alone.”
“I can take care of myself.” I turned and slid the scone into the toaster oven to warm.
“I don’t doubt that,” he said, the hint of a smile in his voice.
“And what about you? Staying in town long?” I took a clean plate from the stack on the shelf behind me and set it on the counter. It seemed awkward to be making small talk, but I didn’t know what to say. That tongue-tied feeling was hitting me again. We’d been through so much and I had so many questions, but the smart thing was to keep my distance. Be cautious.
“About that.” Morgan leaned on the counter, leaning toward me. “I tried to leave, but I couldn’t.”
“No?” I swallowed against the lump in my throat. I was afraid he was about to say something about the borrowed lupine. About how he needed to take it back. All that stood between me and heartbreak was a small white stone.
“It’s the strangest thing, you see, because a little dark wolf with silvery blue eyes kept haunting my dreams,” he said. “Little lass was relentless. Wouldn’t let me go.”
I could hardly find my voice. “You dreamed about me? About my wolf?”
He nodded and then whispered, “Every night since I arrived.”
I moved closer, putting my own elbows on the counter and leaning toward him.
One of his hands moved to my hair, smoothing a wet strand behind my ear. “Doesn’t that seem like a dream I should pay attention to?”
“Yes.” The toaster bell dinged but I didn’t move. “What’s going to happen next?”
“We decide that together,” Morgan said, dipping his head toward mine. “And at the moment,” he whispered, millimeters from my mouth, “this feels right.”
“But you don’t belong here,” I replied.
“On the contrary. This is right where I’m supposed to be.” His lips touched mine and any thought that he was just there for the lupine stone, that he’d have to go back to London, that I didn’t know enough about him to trust what he said was true—all of those doubts fell away.
Everything I needed to know was in the way he kissed me. In the way his fingers threaded through my damp hair, in the way he said my name, in the way he smelled, in the way he looked at me.
I didn’t have any idea if I would stay in Pioneer Falls forever. Or if my family would survive the hunters now that Rick knew our secret. Or if we could reason with Ezra’s pack and keep the peace. For sure, my plans to escape this small town had been obliterated. My faith in a happy future was pretty shaky.
But I did have faith in the way I felt about Morgan. We were both cursed and yet we’d found each other. Wasn’t that what the best you could hope for—that someone would know the truth about you, your deepest flaw, and accept you anyway?
I believed it was. And I was sure that when it came to destiny, Morgan McAllister was mine. Cursed or not, I’d never wanted anything more.
Lily and Morgan’s story continues in... A FOREST SO DEADLY, Book Two in the Pioneer Falls series
Sneak Peek of A FOREST SO DEADLY
Book Two in The Pioneer Falls series
Chapter One
I’d never seen so many ravens perched in one place. Even in Pioneer Falls, a town that lately seemed filled with oddities, a tree full of birds was a strange sight. Like dark sentinels they watched from nearly every b
ranch, their gruff voices echoing through the cemetery above the thud of shovelfuls of dirt hitting the casket.
My friend Cooper North hadn’t shed a single tear through his father Ivan’s graveside service, but as the last hymn played from a small speaker, his eyes were glassy. He pulled his sunglasses from the pocket of his black suit’s jacket and slid them on. My heart ached for him. I’d nearly lost my dad during an ordeal that tore my life apart a couple weeks before, but Cooper hadn’t been so lucky. What could I even say?
Not many folks in town had been close to Ivan, the eccentric man many knew as a breeder of wolf-dog hybrids across the river. Of course, our family had had a different relationship with Ivan, one I’d only recently learned about. He’d been my father’s Protector. And when you’re a werewolf in a small town, you need someone like Ivan to have your back.
Yeah, that’s right. I’m owning it, the whole supernatural thing. I’d only learned about our family’s blood curse a few weeks ago, but it’d quickly become a defining characteristic of my life. But at least I finally knew the truth about my lineage.
After an irritated glance at the raven-filled tree, the reverend finished his final remarks and then closed his Bible. The few mourners in attendance––a couple of local business owners Ivan dealt with, the postmaster, and a neighbor or two––exited through the maze of headstones and statuary. I hadn’t been to many funerals in my eighteen years, but it struck me that this was a particularly sad and poorly attended one.
My dad rose from the plastic folding chair next to me, the raincoat over his dark suit rustling. “I’m sorry, Cooper. He was a good and loyal friend.” One of his forearms was still wrapped in a sling, but he extended his good hand. “He would have appreciated the service.”
“Thanks,” Cooper said, ignoring Dad’s attempted handshake. “But I don’t think he appreciated being torn apart by werewolves.”
Dad’s expression clouded. “You know that wasn’t our fault.”
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