“That you are. But a wild spirit is not always a bad thing.” Mr. Thrace smiled broadly, as if enjoying a private joke. “We need a little shaking up every now and again. You’ve shown me that my stubbornness and blind hatred were wrong. You stood up to me, and I cause lesser wolves to cower in fear.”
“Well, now you’re giving me too much credit.” If he only knew how frightened of him she was most days. Stupidity more than bravery made her stand up to him that first time, even though the results had worked in her favor.
“I’m truly sorry it came to this,” Mr. Thrace said, with a heavy sigh. The smile faded as quickly as it had flashed across his face and the stony look of resolution returned. Girls would call it resting bitch face, but it didn’t seem right to use such words where Nathaniel Thrace was concerned. At least, not within earshot. “An Alpha battle is not for the weak...at all. More often than not, brawn wins where brains would do far better.”
“See, I don’t stand a chance,” Giselle admitted.
“You would be murdered, little wolf.” Mr. Thrace answered with no hesitation.
Asher nodded, but did not voice an opinion out loud.
“Because I’m a girl?” Giselle hadn’t thought about the fact that girls and guys would be fighting in the same trials. She wondered how male-dominated the whole thing would be.
“No. Because you’re not trained for combat.” Mr. Thrace swatted her comment away like an annoying fly. “I’ve seen you fight. Remember?”
Giselle’s face reddened, remembering old Jeffrey nearly ripping her to shreds. She’d had no chance against him. And he was old. She chuckled with nervous embarrassment. “Yeah.”
Asher stood by, quiet as the grave. Smart boy. Best not to antagonize her now. She might not be able to fight a full-grown wolf, but she’d at least try to put Asher in his place, and his silence confirmed he knew it.
“The fight for Alpha is to the death,” Mr. Thrace said solemnly. “Last wolf standing takes the prize. Purely archaic, if you ask me, but that is the way of our people. Bloodlines passing down their leadership helped avoid many a battle like this, but in your case... I truly am sorry.”
Giselle shrugged, hoping to appear as if she couldn’t care less, though deep down she was still disappointed. “It’s fine.”
Whether he believed her or not, Mr. Thrace spoke no more on the subject. After a moment, he cleared his throat. “I heard your father has come home with you. I would very much like to see him.”
She couldn’t tell by his tone if his interest were genuine or morbid. Seeing a great leader laid low could be of interest to another Alpha. Or perhaps he was just hoping to pay his respects. She hoped for the latter, and smiled at his request. “We’re settling him in. He’s in need of round the clock care, but as soon as we have him comfortable, I’m sure arrangements can be made.”
“If Martina or Gavin needs any assistance, I’m quite happy to help.” That she could tell was genuine. Since their truce, both the Hernandez and the Thrace packs had done well by assisting each other, almost as if they’d grown as close as family. Maybe one day they would join the packs as was originally intended; but for now, the truce was being upheld beautifully, and Mr. Thrace’s continued support appreciated.
“I’m sure they would be grateful. I know I am.” Giselle nodded.
“I’m a phone call away.” Mr. Thrace gave a half smile and returned to the house.
“Well, that was awkward.” Asher said, finally breaking his silence.
“Was he spying on us? Giselle asked.
“Yeah.”
“Why?” Giselle asked suspiciously.
“He wants to know what goes on between us. We’re apparently too friendly for things to be innocent.”
“Fancy an alliance, does he?” Giselle punched Asher in the arm playfully.
“You’ve met him. What do you think?” Ash shrugged.
“Face it: you and I will always be under scrutiny. Taylor gave her permission, though, so at least my end is clear.”
“Permission? Seriously?” Asher looked intrigued.
“Yeah, before we left. She said if I was going to be Alpha and all, I would have to have a wolfy boyfriend, and since she no longer wanted you...”
“Oh, well, if you like sloppy seconds,” Asher laughed.
“Definitely got the sloppy part right.” Giselle smirked.
Asher feigned insult with a huff, and playfully tucked in his shirt. “That better?”
“Idiot.” Giselle laughed. But she had to admit, even if just in secret, that she was happy Asher was free and clear as far as her sister was concerned.
“So. All joking aside, how are you dealing? Losing the Alpha. Finding your Dad. Taking care of your Dad? Damn...you’ve got a lot on your plate these days.”
“Honestly...” Giselle blew out a breath filled with pent up anxiety. “I’m a mess. And thanks for asking. Not about the Alpha bit. I don’t care about it... really,” she lied. “But Dad. I knew he’d be a vegetable. But I didn’t know he’d be like this.”
“Like what?”
She debated for a moment whether she should tell him. When she’d told Taylor, there had been apprehension. Even after witnessing her father holding onto her hand, Taylor still chalked it up to unconscious twitches. Martina and Gavin too. They reminded her that he did still shift at the full moon, and occasionally moaned or twitched. She wasn’t supposed to put too much stock into it or get her hopes up. In truth, they didn’t want her doing something stupid like going to the witches, which was in fact next on her to-do list. So as usual, she was alone in her speculation, and until she could prove anything, she felt the need to keep silent.
But Ash was different. Like Richard with his blunt honesty, Ash had always been one she could go to for the truth. And he was more likely to believe her crazy ideas.
That set her mind at ease. “He’s a prisoner in his own body. I can feel it. When I touch him, he reacts. There’s life behind his dull eyes. And I don’t know what to do to help him.”
Asher leaned against the stone wall of his house. “Have you talked to your boyfriend?”
“He knows what everyone does – that Orion’s a vegetable. You have to see it to truly understand. He’s coming over later, and I’ll show him then.”
“Oh so he gets to visit you, but we don’t?” Asher said playfully hurt.
“Nope. You’re sloppy seconds, remember.”
Asher’s eyes narrowed almost angrily at her.
Giselle let out a sigh. “You know how it is with the wolves. They hide the weak from each other. That whole alpha thing.”
“Yeah, I get it. But you should allow us to pay a visit. You heard my father. He wants to see Orion.”
“It will be up to Martina to sanction that.”
“And what about me?” Asher asked. “Am I to be treated the same as he?”
“Let me clear it with Martina first. I’m sure she’ll be cool with you, Ash. But I have to be respectful in her home.”
“Your home too,” Asher said.
“Yes, it is, but you know what I mean. I overstep on many occasions. Right now I want to make sure to keep on their good side.”
“Because they’re taking your father in?” Asher asked.
He knew her better than she thought. “Enough talk. I need to run. Are you coming?”
“I didn’t mean to piss you off.”
“I know. Everything is strange right now with my father, with the whole Alpha thing... I’m still sorting through my own feelings.”
“It’s cool. Just know I have your back. We’re friends first... wolves second.” Asher pulled out the keys to his truck. “Let’s go find that dry creek bed.”
“I’d like that,” Giselle answered, already walking down the path to his truck.
Chapter 19
Running had worked its magic on her, and after she’d gotten home and showered away the layers of desert from her body, she emerged feeling almost herself again.
Her sis
ters had taken the afternoon to enjoy their favorite pastime, shopping, and left her with the house almost all to herself, so she could have some alone time when Damien arrived.
She needed that. Most of her dates had been crashed by her sisters, and uncertain as their relationship was at the moment, due to wolf politics and the example of her own parents failure, they needed to have a little peace.
The doorbell rang just as she was pulling her hair into a ponytail. She rushed down to be first to answer it, and skipped outside to talk before inviting him in.
“Glad you’re back.” Damien greeted Giselle with an extended hug before she could even say hello. His hands sank from the small of her back down to her butt, finishing with a squeeze. “I missed you.”
Giselle giggled to herself. He’d make a great wolf with the confidence he exuded. If only he was, life would be so much easier.
“Missed you too.” She pulled away and met Damien’s eyes with excitement. “And I have someone to show you.”
“Is that why you met me out here instead of inviting me in?” Damien stole a quick peck of a kiss and took hold of her hand to walk alongside her as she led him further into the house. “Have a new man in your life and you want me to share?”
“If it were anyone but my father, I might say that was pretty kinky, but... uh... mind out of the gutter, okay?” she smirked at him.
“Okay, that was not one of my better jokes. Will you forgive me?” He batted his puppy-dog eyes at her, and she couldn’t help but smile.
“Just this once.” She rolled her eyes. “Okay. Here’s the deal. You’re going to be one of the first to meet Dad. And I need some of your witchy mojo.”
“What now?” Damien’s playful smile hardened.
“I’ll explain. But... you have to keep an open mind.” Giselle held the front door as if guarding it with her life. “Can you do that?”
“Do I have a choice?” Damien’s tone darkened.
“No,” she replied forcefully.
“Okay.” He sighed.
“Don’t be so... grumpy. This is a good thing.” She opened the door and pulled Damien along to the couch. “Sit here. I’ll be right back.”
Damien looked as if he’d been trapped and might escape the moment she left his sight. She pushed him down and almost said stay, but stopped herself at the last moment.
“Before you see him, be warned. He’s not... well... um... the magic took its toll on him. Just act normal, okay?”
You’ve got me all worried now,” Damien said.
“Just be cool, okay?” Giselle ran to the guest room and pushed Orion’s chair out into the living room.
Damien stood the moment Orion came into view.
“Meet my father, Orion Silverman,” Giselle said proudly.
Not missing a beat, Damien waved his hand at the seated wolf and introduced himself. “Glad to meet you, sir.”
Giselle pushed the chair up to the edge of the couch and took a seat nearby. She took hold of her father’s hand, and as soon as their skin touched, she felt that spark of life. He twitched as if trying to grasp hold of her as well. More confirmation that her father was there, alive, and in need of help.
“So. You’re probably wondering about him,” she began to say.
“Cassandra told us what happened. Has she seen him yet?”
“No. But soon,” Giselle answered.
“Can he... does he... I mean...”
Giselle’s smile waned. “It’s hard to see him like this. I know. But he’s in there. I can’t really say how I know, but I feel it. And I have to help him.”
Damien’s eyes widened suspiciously. “Giselle...”
“Don’t you dare,” she snapped at him. She’d heard enough from everyone else. She’d be damned if her own boyfriend would lecture her.
“I just want you to think.”
“You think I don’t?”
“You’re impulsive,” Damien said.
“And my instincts... have they been wrong so far?”
Damien sighed. “Not yet. But there’s always a first time.”
“Shut up and listen, will you?”
Damien held his hands up in surrender. “Fine. I’m listening.”
“Don’t listen. Feel.” Giselle held her hand out to Damien.
He hesitated for a moment, but when a growl rumbled up Giselle’s chest, Damien took hold of her hand as if afraid he’d have his head bitten off if he didn’t.
“Okay. I want you to concentrate. Do you feel anything?” Giselle asked.
“Does nervous count?” Damien shot back with a laugh.
“Seriously?” Giselle would bite his head off if he didn’t stop screwing around. “I mean it. Concentrate. Can you feel what I’m feeling?”
Damien shook his head. “I don’t know what you want me to do. Honestly.”
Giselle growled in frustration and dropped both Damien’s hand and Orion’s.
“Maybe if you tell me what I’m supposed to feel?” Damien said hesitantly.
“When I touch his hand, I can feel... something. There’s a connection. I can’t really explain it better. It’s a feeling.”
Damien stood. “Maybe if I held his hand.” He reached out and gingerly laid his hand over the top of Orion’s. Closing his eyes he stood still, silently, and slowed his breathing.
Giselle watched with interest, hoping he’d get that same sensation she did. Maybe he, being a witch, could communicate or something. Make some kind of connection.
The moment passed, and Damien opened his eyes and retook his seat with a sigh. “Sorry. I just... Maybe I’m not the witch to do this.”
Disappointment sank her hopes like a stone. Surely a witch could feel it if she could. Maybe he wasn’t the one for the job. She could try Cassandra; but then, again she had no magic. The one bright spot she’d had, saving her father, seemed to dim before she had the chance to fully formulate a plan for him.
“Please don’t be mad. I can try again.” Damien’s puppy-dog eyes were in full force now.
“I know he’s in there.” Giselle sighed. “Magic is the reason he’s trapped like this. He’s a prisoner in his own body. And if magic did this to him, then maybe there’s some magic that can release him.”
Sadness turned to stone in the blink of Damien’s eyes. “I knew you were going to say that. Let me stop you right there. He’s like that as a punishment.” No pleading. No placating. Damien had always tried to help her, but this time, his words were delivered with a finality she wasn’t used to hearing.
“It’s still the result of magic,” Giselle responded.
“There’s a difference, though. When a witch casts magic, it can be undone by that witch. When the cosmos works to undo magic because a contract is broken, it’s not something a witch can fix.”
“So what you’re saying is I need to offer something to the cosmos, then? How do I do that?” Giselle asked, hoping she’d understood what he’d implied.
Damien signed and smacked himself in the head. “No. You don’t understand.”
“Where do witches get their magic from, if not the cosmos? Are you not uniquely blessed to channel the magic?”
“Someone has been researching the web for info, haven’t they?” Damien groaned.
“I wanted to be prepared for your argument,” Giselle said.
“I see. Okay. Yes. We are blessed, as you say, with the ability to channel magic. We pay homage to the gods and make our offerings to please them in return for these gifts.”
“So, then, if someone has pissed off the gods and got the magical whammy because of it, would it not stand to reason that offering up something in exchange might work to alter the magic done?” Giselle asked.
“There’s a lot of ifs there in that sentence.”
“Ifs are better than nos,” Giselle said, and looked lovingly on her father. “I would do whatever I could to help free him from this prison. Cassandra got the magical whammy and she lost her ability to channel magic, but she still walks amon
g the living. She can still have a life. What of my father? Look at him. This is more punishment than any deserves for what he did.”
“He abused magic to create life,” Damien said, with unusual coldness.
“When you put it that way, sure, it sounds bad, but remember Cassandra did the same. Why did she get off so lightly?”
“You speak as if she should have equal punishment,” Damien said.
“No. I would never wish this on anyone. I’m using her as a point of comparison. Anything would have been better than this. Hell, they could have taken his wolf and left him human, and it would still have been a horrible punishment, but more fair than this.”
“I get that. Really I do.” Damien nodded. “But I don’t make the rules. I’m not a god.”
“But you commune with them,” Giselle insisted.
Damien sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s often just a one-way conversation, and more chanting than shooting the shit.”
Giselle snickered.
“Let’s play devil’s advocate here. If the gods were the bargaining type, what would you offer in return?” Damien asked.
Giselle shrugged. “I don’t know. What would they accept?”
“Hard to say. But...” He gritted his teeth, “For arguments sake...you’d have to offer something good. And that’s assuming they would take a trade.”
“Could you look into it?” Giselle asked, batting her eyes, hoping that by putting the girlfriend card in play, she’d ensure his cooperation.
Damien sighed. His shoulders slumped. “You would ask this of me.”
“I’ll ask your mother if you’d rather I go that route.” Giselle’s temper flared, feeling she’d lost already.
“You’ll still have to deal with her,” Damien said. “What does Martina say? Or Gavin?”
“They don’t know...yet.”
“Of course they don’t, Giselle. Why? The damn secrets. This is why you weren’t named Alpha. You always operate on your own.”
“That was a low blow,” Giselle snarled.
“It’s the truth, and I hope that, as your boyfriend, at least for the time being, you can appreciate my honesty.”
“Are you going to help or not?” Giselle demanded the answer rather than let him steer the conversation away.
Fearless Little Werewolf Page 12
