To The Wolves: A Paranormal Shifter Romance (The Hollow Pack Book 1)

by Camille Rae

  Loel’s hand left my back, and I looked up at him, confused. “You kissed her?” I felt strangely jealous. I felt possessive. I knew that those feelings were irrational, even in the moment, and yet I was powerless to stop them.

  He pressed his lips together and shrugged slightly.

  “No, you don’t get to just ‘Oh, we’ll tell you more later when we’re with Theo’ this one, buddy,” I said, pushing myself onto my elbow.

  “My family is from Queen City,” he started, speaking very slowly.

  I could tell that he was choosing his words with caution, but I could hardly blame him. I stayed silent and still, willing him to continue.

  “My family is…” He bit his lower lip. “Let’s say royalty-adjacent. We’re not royal, but we have status. In fact, if you really are the Lost Princess, we’ve met before. I’m a year older, but there are tales that you once bit my ear,” he said, narrowing his eyes at me.

  The corner of my mouth twitched as I tried to suppress a smile. “I’m sure you deserved it,” I teased.

  “It bled,” he said, furrowing his brow. “I think I still have a scar.” He leaned forward into me, tilting his head and touching his ear. “Can you see?”

  I playfully smacked his shoulder. “Get back to the kissing story,” I said.

  He went silent for a moment, staring at the curtains behind me. “In Elestra’s eighteenth year, we were betrothed,” he continued. “It was a good match for my family. It was meant to ensure our safety in perilous times.”

  “Why were they perilous times?” I asked, noticing how his face fell when he mentioned it.

  “The Queen — your mother — died the year after you were taken. It was said she died of a broken heart, grieving so hard for your loss that she couldn’t continue on. They found her body in the river that runs through Queen City. It was rumored she jumped from a bridge.” He stopped again, shaking his head.

  Something tightened in my chest at the thought of a mother grieving her child’s loss. Of my loss, perhaps. My mother. I knew that heartache and I wasn’t even close with my parents.

  I reached out and took Loel’s hand in mine, blinking back the tears that had begun to well in my eyes.

  “And the King?” I whispered.

  “The King waited until Elestra was sixteen, and then he abdicated the throne. He disappeared, too. Everyone thinks he met the same fate as the Queen, but I don’t know. Three suspicious royal disappearances and deaths?” He rubbed at the back of his neck, shrugging. “Elestra became Queen when she was young, and her advisors were… well, it’s not for me to say entirely. They didn’t seem to be acting in the Kingdom’s best interest, if you know what I mean?”

  I grimaced. That made two entire sets of my parents deceased. I was 0-4 on that count.

  “Why were you chosen to marry her?” I asked, trying to distract myself from the morbid thought.

  “Elestra and I had been friends growing up. She was really fun and quick witted. I began serving in the army fairly young, before she was crowned. It wasn’t until I was chosen for her that I saw her again. She had changed. She was withdrawn and moody, like a shell of her old self. It made me really sad, honestly. I thought I could help her,” he said, and his voice cracked a tiny bit on the word help.

  “But you couldn’t. No one could,” I said, putting my hand on his shoulder and squeezing. “Why did you leave, then? Why are you here?”

  He cleared his throat and looked down at me. “That’s a story for another time, Spark,” he whispered.

  I made a sound of protest, but he leaned into me and touched his forehead to mine. “That was a very long, roundabout way of explaining why I might have kissed her once.”

  I still felt a pang of jealousy, knowing that if they had been betrothed, he had probably kissed her a few times.

  His hand rested on my waist just above the curve of my hip. I could feel his warmth through the thin layer of my nightgown.

  “I lost my parents about a year ago,” I said, peeling back layers to my own vulnerability. “My other parents, I guess. My fake parents? Adopted parents? I don’t know what to call them.”

  “What happened?” he said, and pulled back slightly and looked at me, his face purposefully blank. “If you want to talk about it. I know how it can be.”

  He laid his head back down on the pillow.

  “They died in an accident. I don’t think you have cars here?” I questioned, and from the confused look on his face, I continued. “It’s not important, then. It took them both immediately. We weren’t close, but I didn’t dislike them,” I said, unsure of how much to say.

  Loel moved his thumb over my side, rubbing the soft skin stretched over my lower ribs. “Do you miss them?”

  I was surprised by that question. I nodded, unable to form words. I had spoken about my parents so many times to so many people that I had become numb to the idea. If I could think of them abstractly, it was easier to bear. It was easier not to think of the end.

  Loel hooked his hand around my hip, pulling my body to his. “Then I think you were very lucky to have one another, even if you don’t think you were close,” he said, his voice soft. He cradled my head under his chin and said nothing, rubbing my back soothingly.

  I blinked quickly and gulped down a bout of tears forming in my throat.

  “Now, we’re both tired. Let’s go back to sleep for a little while, okay?” He said, and I could feel the words rumble through his chest under my cheek. “I’m here. You’re safe with me.”

  “I know,” I said quietly against his shirt, and fell asleep seeing a slow walk through the woods in the snow, Mika running alongside me, the powder crunching under our steps.

  ◆◆◆

  “Spark,” Loel said, rubbing hair back from my face. “It’s time to wake up.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. I could have sworn I had just fallen asleep. My cheek was wet from drool, and I pushed myself up on my elbow to the horrifying realization that I had drooled on Loel.

  He laughed, seeing how embarrassed I was. “Yeah, you’re pretty gross. I’m never letting you drink again. You snored in my face all night,” he teased.

  I clamped a hand over my mouth. “No,” I said, horrified.

  He shook his head, grinning. “No, you really didn’t, but you look really cute with bedhead,” he said with an eyebrow raised.

  “What time is it?” I said, looking around. The curtains on the side of my bed facing the windows were drawn shut, and when I leaned to push one aside, I could see that it was barely dawn. “It’s so early still. Let’s go back to sleep.” I groaned, curling back into his side.

  He laughed, the melodious sound making me smile in return. “I want to show you something,” he said, standing and tucking his shirt back into his pants.

  “Can you show me it from right here?” I said, raising a brow suggestively.

  He gave me a stern look. “Well, if you don’t want to see it, then I don’t have to show you,” he said, shoving his feet into his boots.

  “No, no, I want to see it,” I protested, sitting up again.

  “Okay, I’m going to go get dressed and washed. I’ll be back here in thirty minutes. You better be ready,” he said, giving me a wink before dashing out the door.

  I flopped back down on the bed, trying not to fall back asleep as I thought over the last twenty four hours. I had learned so much about Laeris and Elestra and my parents and my lineage that I could hardly keep it all straight. They were all dead or evil, to sum it up easily. I knew that nothing was easily explainable here, though. There were one thousand layers to each detail, and I had only begun to skim the surface.

  Loel betrothed to Elestra? I glared at the heavy upholstery above my head.

  The Graces burst into the door before I had a moment to unpack that thought.

  Maisy and Alivia looked a bit sleepy and I wondered if Loel had woken them or if they had just been waiting. I really hoped that neither of those was the answer.

  “How d
id you enjoy the feast?” I said amiably as they brushed through my hair and braided it over my shoulder, giving my body a scrub with a cloth instead of having me take a bath.

  Maisy raised an eyebrow to Alivia. “Yes, Alivia, how did you enjoy the feast?”

  Alivia kicked Maisy’s ankle, and Maisy accidentally pulled my hair while jumping away from her.

  My yelp of pain unfortunately took the wind out of their sails. “So sorry, Mist— Caia. I was only asking her because she seemed to become very friendly with a certain guard.”

  “I did not,” Alivia said, though the blush on her cheeks said otherwise.

  I grinned, looking at the two of them. They couldn’t have been much older than twenty, but the mothers I had seen in the streets of Nos were much younger than I had expected. I was basically a spinster at nearly twenty-seven with no husband or family to speak of.

  “You’re allowed to have boyfriends, right?” I asked them, trying to take my mind away from spinsterhood.

  “So long as it does not distract from our duties,” Maisy said, smiling pointedly at Alivia, who had her head down to hide her embarrassment.

  “Well, thankfully, I think I’ll be pretty low maintenance,” I said, and that got a laugh out of the two of them.

  “Whatever you want to think, Caia,” Maisy winked at me.

  I rolled my eyes at her teasing but felt a smile tugging at the edges of my mouth. “Can I have pants today?” I asked, looking towards the dresser and the wardrobe where the clothes hung.

  Alivia shrugged, picking out a pair of slim slacks. She put a sweater and tailored blazer next to them.

  I eyed the blazer skeptically.

  “I assure you it’s very common for the upper class to wear this sort of outfit,” Alivia said, noticing my expression.

  “Upper class? There’s classes in the Rebellion?” I asked, surprised.

  They both stared at me in confusion.

  “There’s nothing a bit more casual in there?” I continued, as Maisy patted something that smelled like rosewater onto my face.

  Alivia stood in front of the wardrobe and sighed, saying, “I don’t mean to speak out of turn, but the entire Citadel knows you are the Lost Princess, and soon all of Nos will know. Do you want them thinking you are not worthy of the title?”

  To be fair, I didn’t care at all what Nos thought of me, but I realized with a heavy heart that might not be the right approach. What if I did stay there? What if I found a way to get Jude back, but we returned here after? And if I was still the Lost Princess? What if Laeris was really to be my home?

  In Alivia’s defense, the blazer was cute. It was a green, heavy material and reminded me of a fashionable young professor, in a way.

  “It’ll be cold this morning,” she assured me as she laid out hand warmers and a scarf.

  “Do you have coffee here?” I asked, holding Maisy back to put on my own underwear and bra. “Or tea? Something with caffeine, or, uh, something that makes you feel awake and energized?”

  Maisy nodded. “Yes, we have tea,” she said, turning on her heel and leaving the room so suddenly that I was startled by her no-nonsense approach.

  She opened the door and Loel walked in past her. “Spark, hurry it up,” he said, averting his gaze when he realized I was only in my underwear.

  He was clothed in slacks, a t-shirt, and what looked like a leather motorcycle jacket. “Not fair, he gets a casual jacket,” I said to Alivia, pointing to Loel.

  “He’s not a Princess,” she said, snorting with a small laugh.

  I groaned.

  Alivia slid the softest sweater I had ever felt in my entire life over my head, leaving me to wonder seriously if it was made out of baby bunnies. “I’m hurrying,” I said, looking over at him as I ran my hands over the sleeves of the baby bunny sweater a few more times.

  Alivia held out the blazer for me and I slid my arms in, letting her straighten it around my shoulders and adjust my sleeves underneath.

  How I had ever gotten myself dressed for over two entire decades was beyond me at this point.

  I walked to the wardrobe and bent, looking for shoes. I didn’t trust Alivia not to put me in heels.

  “Grab boots, if you can,” Loel said, and I sent a silent thank you up to the gods for giving me at least one rational companion.

  Alivia chose socks and a pair of ankle boots that I probably would have worn in my past life back home, and I put them on myself, holding Alivia off with an “I can do it myself” not unlike a two-year-old on an independent streak.

  Maisy burst back into the room bearing a cup of tea. I took it from her and took a large gulp of the drink. It was a lot like the strong black tea I knew, nutty and sweet. Alivia dodged my cup to wrap the scarf around my neck.

  Loel raised an eyebrow. “Don’t drink too much of that,” he said as I took my second large gulp.

  “Why not?” I asked. “What is it?”

  “I’ve just recently seen what drinks can do to you when you’re not used to them,” he said, grinning mischievously.

  Alivia and Maisy giggled, and I narrowed my eyes at them all.

  “Ha ha,” I fake laughed, but couldn’t stop a grin from creeping onto my lips. “Where are we going?” I asked Loel.

  “I assume you want breakfast?” Loel asked, his head tilted.

  “Am I that predictable?” I asked, my stomach rumbling.

  “Then we’re going to my favorite spot,” he said, smiling widely and reaching out his hand.

  Chapter 13

  Caia

  We left the Citadel and made our way down the steps into the city. Very few people were up and awake in the Citadel beyond workers, but as soon as we stepped through the Citadel gates into Nos, I realized the city was bustling with activity.

  We walked arm-in-arm down a pathway flanked by row houses, each one brightly colored and filled with people tending gardens, washing laundry on front stoops, sweeping the walkways, and children running through the thick of it, playing a game that reminded me of cricket. It wasn’t so unlike the world I knew.

  Loel greeted some people by name, and others with just a nod, and I tried to appear pleasant and not fall into my typical resting bitch face. Princess Face, I repeated to myself. Princess Face.

  The end of the row of homes opened into a large market that reminded me of the farmers markets back home, except with ten thousand times the noise. I squeezed Loel’s hand in mine, pulling him along as I looked into each of the stalls. I stopped to run my hands over a beautiful blue dress that was hanging in one stall, then moved to check out some vegetables I didn’t recognize in the next. I held up a melon-looking thing to show Loel. “What is this?”

  “Jupa,” he said.

  I held up something that resembled squash.

  “Squash,” he said, and I grinned.

  He tugged on my hand. “Come on, I’m starving,” he said, pulling me out of the stall. I gave an apologetic wave to the woman who had been trying to get me to purchase some of the potatoes that I had been eyeing.

  We passed by a flower stand and I dragged my feet, touching the petals of some Gladiolus. “So pretty,” I whispered, and Loel pulled me to his side.

  “We can look at all of this after, I promise,” he said as I looked longingly at the stalls we were rushing past.

  I noticed the entrance to a large lane and I could see a group of shabby, makeshift tents and huts in the distance. Some had what looked like tarps over the sides.

  “What’s that?” I asked, pointing, dragging my feet.

  Loel paused and stared down the row, his face darkening for a moment.

  “Those are the refugees from Embusta, to the east,” he said, his voice low.

  “Refugees?” I said, a bit shocked.

  He shook his head. “The latest city to be taken by the Queen’s Army. I think it was about a month ago? Apparently, it was a bloodbath. All because their guild leaders dared to question her new policy of taxation of shifters. They’re mostly smaller s
hifters over there — foxes, deer, that sort of thing. She leveled the city overnight. From what we’ve heard, they had days of public executions of city officials.”

  “I had no idea it was so bad,” I whispered.

  He squeezed my hand. “That’s why the Rebellion needs the Lost Princess right now. I’m not trying to convince you, and I know it’s overwhelming, but it’ll be worth it to stop this reign of terror,” he said.

  I nodded, the weight of responsibility heavy on my shoulders.

  We walked in silence and paused at what I could only assume was our destination: a crowded stall with wrap-around U-shaped bar seating. In the center of the bar, two women were behind the counter, cooking and frying something that smelled delicious. I could pick out the earthy smells of basil, onion, and something spicy that tickled my nose.

  “This is my favorite hangover food,” Loel said, sliding onto a seat and patting the one next to him.

  I sat, tucking my legs under the bar. No one in the stall glanced our way, and I smiled up at him with appreciation.

  Two days ago I had despised this man for kidnapping me. But at that moment, he was the only bit of normal I had. The only thing I knew. I considered how long Stockholm syndrome would take to set in. Was that what I was experiencing? Or had some part of the spell made me feel connected to the Wolves, too?

  No matter what was happening, sitting at the food stand was the first time in days I had felt normal. After seeing the refugee camps, even allowing me to have thirty minutes without my new responsibilities was a gift.

  “So, what is this food?” I asked, leaning slightly over the counter to get a better look. It reminded me of pho, and my mouth watered.

  “It’s like a stew, but you can add whatever you want. The base is a broth, and then it’s just packed with flavorful veggies. We call it uta. It’s peasant food but it’s delicious. The Citadel won’t make it for me no matter how many times I’ve asked,” he said, crinkling his nose.