by Eden Beck
My mind immediately starts to wander, but then I remember that we are standing in front of a gawking crowd and I try to pull myself together with some sense of decorum. Rory kisses me last. His kiss … it feels final, somehow, as if it’s the seal to this bond that will never break.
Though part of me wants to stay after the ceremony—if just to keep an eye on our new, uninvited and unwanted guests—Rory and the boys are quick to try to usher me away.
“Romulus and Lydia will handle things from here,” Rory whispers to me, his lips igniting the back of my neck with a flood of heat. “We should leave now.”
While we can.
Before things turn ugly.
I know he’s right, that I should heed the way they tug at my hands and glance back towards the house, but something makes me want to stay. An anxious energy makes me feel like I need to see and hear what Remus is up to because I don’t think that Romulus is looking at the situation with a clear head.
I shouldn’t be the one with a clear head right now. I should be allowing myself to be swept away by my boys. My husbands.
But instead of heady happiness, that warmth inside me is overshadowed by the cool looks from Remus’ pack still gathered all around us.
So, I put one gentle hand on each one of the boy’s forearms in turn, then let Rory’s hand drop from mine.
“Stay with me here,” I whisper back. “Just for a few minutes.”
Romulus seems completely wrapped up with his brother and their supposed newfound bond, and he seems entirely too optimistic about Remus’ sudden change of heart. The boys agree to stay and hang out in the gardens for a little while to keep an eye on things, although I can tell that they really would prefer to go inside with me. They don’t really seem to believe Remus’ story either, but seem a lot less concerned about it than I do.
I think back to our last encounter, to the way Remus’ pack reacted to his responses—flashing from bloodthirsty to calm in a moment, and think this must be something similar. His pack is mirroring his emotions, staying calm when clearly they’d like nothing more than to rip my throat out.
And Romulus’ emotions must be trickling down to the boys too.
I might be a part of their pack, but I haven’t been fully turned yet. I wonder if his wishes, his desires, his emotions will affect me the same way once I am. Either way, for now, I still have my own mind.
And that mind is not convinced of Remus’ intentions here, today.
Sure, they haven’t stained the ground red with our blood yet. But that’s the thing. Yet.
There’s still six days in the ceremony before I’m officially turned. Still six days to change that.
Romulus seems to be feeling at ease and therefore the boys are feeling the effects of some of that as well, but Lydia is picking up on the same unease that I am. I can see it in her face.
I don’t know if it’s because she is part human, or because she is more like Romulus’ equal than just a pack member, but she’s definitely not feeling as comfortable with Remus as her husband is. I know that she can sense other people’s thoughts and feelings better than most, and I wonder if she is sensing something in Remus that is causing her greater concern than she’s showing.
Whatever it is, she seems to be the only one that I can talk to about it that will appreciate the valid concern.
I rub my wrists, still stinging from the claw slashes, as I walk over to her. The boys are still right near me, but they let me talk to Lydia a bit as they mull over which of them should get the first moment alone with me as if I don’t have an opinion in the matter.
So much for not feeling jealousy.
I’ll deal with that later.
“Lydia,” I say as I come stand beside her while she’s quietly watching the crowd. “I know you can sense something isn’t right too. Please don’t tell me it’s all fine because I can tell that it’s not.”
I keep my voice low, but I still draw a few glances from the closest members of Remus’ pack.
“I won’t tell you that,” she says, keeping her face trained forward even as her eyes flicker over to me, betraying her. “Because I’m afraid you’re right.”
“What is it?” I ask anxiously. “Can you tell what Remus and his pack are thinking?”
“No,” she says. “Unfortunately my abilities don’t work on command quite like that. But I can still sense that he’s up to something. So is the girl that was promised to Rory. I can feel her malevolence from here.”
I follow Lydia’s glance toward the girl, who stands across the garden, staring back at us with a poisonous look.
“What do we do?”
Even as I ask it, the girl across the field bares her teeth at me in a poor impression of a smile. It’s not even a proper grimace.
Lydia’s response is surprising.
“Nothing.”
“But—” I start, only to be immediately cut off for a moment as Vivian and her parents come up to offer their congratulations. It isn’t until they’ve stepped aside again that Lydia continues on.
“Until Romulus can see it too and until the boys are able to sense the danger, it won’t do any good to argue the point,” she says, her voice lowering even further so that she has to lean in close to my ear for me to hear. “Romulus is blinded by his love for his brother. Even after all that Remus has done to him, Romulus still wishes to mend that bridge. The boys will be influenced by their father’s emotions until they are able to sense otherwise. There’s nothing to do now except to watch and wait. The truth will reveal itself in time. It always does.”
As always, Lydia is as wise as I’m impatient.
I know that she’s right and even though it bugs me to just let Remus and his group of mongrels get away with whatever they have planned, there isn’t much to do about it at the moment. Besides, I’ve just gotten married and started my turning ceremony. I should be celebrating.
The next time Lydia turns to me, her eyes are shining. She takes each of my hands in one of hers and slowly, one at a time, kisses them softly.
“I’ve always wanted a daughter,” she says, softly. Though she’s still quiet, none of the uncertainty of before is present in her voice any longer. “And I couldn’t ask for a better one. Let me deal with this. You have a new life to begin. Whatever Remus’ plans, don’t let him rob you of this joy.”
With Lydia looking at me the way she is, there’s no choice but to agree.
I go back to the boys and signal to them that I am ready to go inside.
“Come on,” I say, so only they can hear. “Let’s leave these wolves to themselves.”
They flock around me as we walk toward the house, my eyes shifting over to them in a way that makes their faces burn red.
“Just so we’re clear,” I say, pausing for a moment before sweeping into the house ahead of them. “I get to say who lies with me first; I’m your mate, not your pet.”
Rory bursts out laughing and the other two soon join him.
“What’s so funny?” I ask, turning back as they catch up to me again.
“If anyone should be considered a pet, it should be us,” Kaleb says, still snorting with laughter. “We’re the canines after all.”
I laugh too. “True, but I’ll soon be one too.”
After the laughing subsides, Rory takes on a more serious tone. “Of course you’ll always decide which of us will be with you at any given time, we were just having one of those jealous moments you were talking about.”
“Sure,” I say. “Well, good.” I summon up my courage to tell them what I want now. “Because I want you, and I want you now.”
As I have from the moment I met them.
When all of this first began.
“But we should wait,” I add, though it pains me. I glance once more over my shoulder. “At least until we know for sure what Remus has planned.”
“Oh, Sabrina,” Rory says, with a heady sigh of his own. He rests his hand on me, and though he doesn’t press the issue further, I watch a
s the golden color in his eyes dim a bit. “Then I hope you’re prepared to wait.”
I sigh.
“Well good thing I have some practice in that area, then.”
8
Rory
Despite what Sabrina seems to think, we are not all as smitten by Remus as my father is.
Romulus might truly believe their Remus is here to make amends, but he’s blinded by the bond of blood. And in my opinion, the wrong bond of blood.
Ever since Remus arrived, it’s like I’m the only one here who remembers the more recent bond they made … even though both brothers still bear the scar.
I lie awake too early in the morning, the bodies of my love and my two brothers sprawled across the bed around me.
The sun has only just begun to rise. Soon, the dark, gray world will be lit by that golden hour of sunrise. The hill leading up to the house will no longer be a dark shadow stretching out from the base of the house to the edge of an even darker forest.
And then we’ll be able to see the shapes of the shifters camped outside, their pack another scar, this one across our land.
Sabrina’s head lies near my lap, her dark golden hair—almost brown—a mess of curls spread out around her. She barely needs a sheet to cover her, what with the heat of us three mutts to keep her warm. But still she clutches at the edge of one, her fingers wound into a tight ball that hugs the fabric close to her body.
I should be fully enraptured by Sabrina, lost in our new marriage together as Kaleb and Marlowe are. But the presence of Remus and his pack here, I can’t ignore it. I can’t just go along with it. As much as I have to pretend to.
It’s cast a pall over what should have been a blissful week of discovery, of learning what it is to be bound to Sabrina in both word and spirit—if not body yet, since we’ve not been able to consummate the marriage.
As much as Remus’ presence has left me feeling tense, a small part of me is willing to admit that this little fact may also play a role in the matter.
We’ve already waited so long, after all.
Just being here, beside her in the same house, doused in her smell, her sight, her physical presence …
For the first time, I fully understand why she couldn’t be here in the house with us, why she stayed in the cabin. It wasn’t just Kaleb who posed a threat to her. It was all of us, me included.
Me, perhaps, more than anyone.
Perhaps my senses are just more alert than usual, or I’m just on edge, but these last few days at Sabrina’s side, her husband in all ways but one, have left me feeling torn in more than ever before. And it’s left me jumpy and excitable—something I’ve done my best to hide from my new wife. The last thing I want is to complicate an already overwhelming time for her with my own inability to control my emotions.
But it has been hard not to agree with her openly when she’s expressed her own … concerns … and Remus’ presence. I don’t want to alarm her, but I can’t bring myself to lie to her face and tell her there’s nothing to worry about, because I can’t be certain. As much as I want to trust Romulus and his judgment, I can’t forget the promises each of them has made.
I can’t ignore that my wedding, Sabrina’s turning, has broken too many of these promises to go unpunished.
So far, I’ve managed to steer the conversation away from having to admit my own fears to Sabrina … and thus far, it seems to have worked.
But of course, as astute as ever, it hasn’t gotten past Lydia.
“You know, your father would understand if you brought your concerns to him.”
I start where I stand, one hand frozen where it reaches out to test the temperature of the water trickling from the faucet.
“God, Lydia, I didn’t see you there.”
She grins at me from across the kitchen before she stoops to fetch the kettle.
“I’m surprised that’s possible, what with the way things have been around here lately,” she says, tapping the tip of her nose with one finger. “I thought your senses would be positively quivering.”
“It’s not you I’m looking out for,” I say, keeping my voice quiet. I glance once over my shoulder before I continue. “I’m not going to cross Romulus, I just want to be careful.”
Movement outside the window catches my eye for a moment, and I watch as those first rays of sun begin to fall on the shifters sleeping restlessly in the tents pitched outside. I wonder, for a moment, if Sabrina and the others have started to stir as well.
If it were up to me, Remus and his pack would never have been allowed to stay. But it isn’t up to me. I’m another member of this pack—Romulus’ son or not—so I have to follow his will.
Even if it makes me uneasy.
For a second, Lydia’s hand rests on my shoulder as she hands me the kettle to be filled.
“It won’t always be like this,” she says.
Suddenly, I feel all my muscles tense. Lydia leans in closer, her hand still squeezing gently. It’s meant to be a gesture of reassurance, but it feels ever so slightly suffocating.
“Romulus’ grip is tight, I know, but it won’t be like this forever,” she says, quietly. “You do know that, don’t you?”
What I know is how the grip of my own hands on the counter is too tight. After a second standing in silence, watching as the shadowy figures become easier to make out on the other side of the glass, I finally find my voice.
“But by then, what if it doesn’t matter?” I ask, my eyes still trained on the figures rising from their slumber outside. I turn to Lydia, shrugging off her touch to cross my arms across my chest. “What if it’s too late?”
Lydia chews on the inside of her cheek for a second. I fidget in the moment of silence, but at least she didn’t answer me with a quick lie.
The moment stretches out too long, and I can’t wait any longer.
I take a half step forward, one hand jabbing towards the window. “This is Remus we’re talking about remember?”
Lydia is a bit taken aback, and I instantly regret the harshness of my tone. But it’s too late. She sets her face and points her own finger in the same direction.
“How could I forget?” she hisses, before instantly remembering herself. She straightens up, the pleasant mask returning to her face. “But Romulus is determined to believe Remus, and I’m determined to believe Romulus. Whether or not you do as well … that’s up to you.”
She isn’t finished there. Before I can speak again, she once again reaches out to gently touch my shoulder.
“Just … don’t get Sabrina riled up. You know she’s anxious, even more so than you. But right now she needs to be focused on her turning. Not to mention you three boys.”
I bite my lip. I don’t want to disagree with my father, but I can’t help it.
I also can’t help but admit that Lydia is right.
Once again.
I reluctantly agree to keep my concerns to myself and leave Lydia to return to the bedroom as soon as the tea is ready and before I’m missed. I still feel uneasy—that is, right up until I step back through the doorway and catch sight of her there, on my bed.
She’s sat up between the still-sleeping figures of my brothers, her body illuminated in a line of golden morning light. Sleep hasn’t quite left her, the tiredness and confusion that comes between waking and dreaming still apparent on her face when she looks up at me.
“Rory …” she says, her lips forming the shape of my name with a soft sleepiness that melts away any lingering nerves.
I fall into her, wrapping myself around her as the rest of me melts too.
9
Sabrina
Waiting feels different this time.
There’s no going back now. No disappearing on me.
At long last, here with them … I am home.
And I’m impatient for the last part of this bond, my transformation, to be complete.
“Why is this taking so long?” I complain to Lydia on the morning of the sixth day after my turning ceremon
y. Every muscle in my body aches, but other than that, I look and feel exactly the same.
The cuts on my wrists have already started to heal. They’re still scabbed over, the skin reddened into the pattern of claw marks that sealed me as a member of Romulus’ pack … and more importantly, his family.
“I told you that it takes several days,” Lydia says. She keeps that calm and comforting smile on her face, but today it has the opposite effect on me.
I feel myself shudder in my seat.
“Yeah, I know you keep saying that, but I feel like I want to crawl out of my own skin right now,” I say, fighting the urge to twitch like an out-of-control animatronic.
This time, when she turns to me her eyes are narrowed slightly. “This isn’t about the turning, is it?”
I pause only for a second.
“No,” I say, finally. “Because I don’t like that they’re all still here.”
I nod my head towards the glass, and her gaze follows mine out onto the grounds beyond.
I am, of course, talking about Remus and his pack. I just don’t understand why they have to stay for the entire turning. I don’t have a problem with the actual turning ceremonies taking seven days, but I do have a problem with Remus and his pack staying here for the entire week.
Especially when I had a problem with them staying here even for a second.
As much as Romulus seems determined to trust them, I don’t. I still don’t believe their intentions, no matter how hard Remus has been working to convince us otherwise.
I saw the blood promise they made.
I know Remus wouldn’t give in so easily, not when my very existence here is an affront to all he believes in.
“Why can’t they go back to their own territory?” I ask, still shifting in my seat. “It’s not like it’s even that far away. Not for them, anyway.”
There’s a slight growl in my voice. Most shifters mark a very specific territory as their own, as Romulus has done, but Remus and his pack like to travel—and as they do, they mark parts of the Free Territory as their own. This last year, that area has been inching ever closer to us.
