by Gwen Knight
“Wow,” I murmured. What the hell was I supposed to say to that? And what the hell had happened to the Knox I remembered? When had he grown into something other than a sullen, broody wolf?
“What?” he snapped.
“Nothing.” I wrapped my arms around my middle and leaned back against my car as I contemplated him. I wasn’t the right person for him to reach out to. If he wanted to repair things between our packs, that was something for him and my father to discuss. But I could appreciate the sentiment. It certainly would make gatherings like tonight a bit easier if we weren’t constantly at each other’s throats. “If you want to make things better with my pack, I’m all for it.”
His dark brow winged up. “You’re serious?”
“Well, who am I to tell you otherwise? It’s a noble goal you have there.”
“Most people would laugh at me.” His jaw twitched. “Go on, tell me I'm naïve.” And from the storm gathering in his eyes, I could tell he wouldn’t appreciate that response. Course, no one enjoyed ridicule.
“Well, I’m not most people,” I murmured.
“No…you’re not.” The harsh lines on his face softened as he regarded me quietly. I didn’t know Knox enough to understand the thoughts running through his head, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. “Truce, then?”
I nodded. That I could do. If he wanted to extend an olive branch, I could at least accept it. Who knew, maybe this would lead to something good. “Truce. Now, let’s go speak with the witches, shall we?”
“I’ll grab the mistletoe.” He rounded my car in three strides and yanked open the door. The moment his fingers closed around the thistles, I felt it. A sharp tug in the air. The magic might have diminished, but, apparently, it was still potent enough to evoke a visceral reaction.
Knox stumbled back from the car and gave his head a good shake. “That’s strong.”
“Try sleeping with it in the same house as you. I thought my skin was going to crawl off last night.”
He lifted his chin and met my gaze, amber swelling in the depths of his eyes.
“Uh, Knox?”
I felt his growl before I heard it, the deep rumble eliciting a chill in my bones. He gripped the edge of my car with his free hand and bowed over, his breath quickening as he struggled with the magic.
“Jesus. Knox, what’s wrong?” I hurried to his side and touched his back. The spell had never hit me like that.
“Don’t touch me!”
Too late. I felt the swell of his muscles, felt them shift beneath my hand. I knew the signs. Hell, I’d battled them myself on more than one occasion. “Damn it, Knox. You can’t shift here in the middle of the road!”
“Not gonna shift,” he grunted.
Sure he wasn’t. His entire body convulsed beneath my touch. With a whispered curse, I reached across and snatched the wreath of mistletoe out of his hand and tossed it onto the hood of the car. Within seconds, his body relaxed. He leaned forward and pressed his brow against my car as he sucked in a shivering breath.
“What the hell was that?” I demanded. The mistletoe sure hadn’t affected me like that. I’d felt little more than a wave of heat and some confusion. But Knox had almost lost complete control.
“Don’t know,” he rasped. “Damn, that was intense.”
I nodded. We’d almost had a dominant male werewolf running amok on the streets. That wasn’t normally cause for alarm, but when magic was involved, who knew what to expect?
“Now, I’d really like to have a word with these friggin’ witches.”
“Fair enough, but how about we take a second and breathe.”
He rose from my car and tugged the edges of his coat. Apparently, his game face was back. He eyed me with cold indifference, then started toward the shop.
Guess he didn’t need a moment to breathe.
I raced to catch up to him. Halfway to the door, I skidded to a stop and cursed. The mistletoe. Pointless to go storming in without the object in question. I rushed back to my car and paused before touching it. Would it affect me as it had him? I’d touched it to take it away from him, but that’d been a mere second compared to lugging the thing into the shop. Resigned, I pulled my shirt sleeve down over my fingers, then grabbed the damned thing. Maybe the barrier would protect us from this wayward magic.
“Rumor!” Knox barked.
I glanced back to find him standing in the shop door, exuding anger and power. My breath caught at the sight of him. He practically oozed strength, his body coiled and ready to attack.
Alpha.
For the first time ever, I saw it. He wasn’t just a middle-ranked wolf. He was a bloody alpha, hidden within the ranks beneath his brother. When the hell had that happened?
My chin dropped, and I stared down at the mistletoe. Was this the cause? Had the magic awakened something within him? Would it go dormant again? Or was he forever an alpha now? Perhaps he’d always been one but had kept it hidden from us all.
I crossed the parking lot at a light jog, my gaze locked on him as I approached. Was it me or was his chin a fraction higher? Almost as though he refused to hide anymore. Something had changed. Whether it was the mistletoe or this case in general, I had a feeling Knox would never be the same.
He strode into the small shop and stalked toward the counter. Doubtful it would take long for the witches to show themselves. Two werewolves in their store was cause for alarm. Especially when one was bleeding magical energy. And sure enough, a few seconds after we’d entered, the three Cleary sisters appeared as though from nowhere.
“Blessings upon you this magical day,” the youngest murmured.
“How may we assist?” the eldest asked.
I eyed the three sisters, noting the age difference between them. The youngest, Sarah, couldn’t have been more than twenty, while the middle-aged one, Ann, appeared in her thirties, and the eldest, Mary, at least mid-forties.
Before I could open my mouth, Knox snatched the mistletoe out of my hand and slapped it down on their glass counter. I sucked in a sharp breath, terrified of another magical attack, but he held himself together. Had I not witnessed his near breakdown in the parking lot, I wouldn’t have known to look for the slight shiver rippling down his back.
“You can tell me what the hell this is,” he growled.
Oh, boy. His wolf was close to the surface. I studied his hands, flat against the counter, and noticed the sharp edges of his nails. Perhaps he wasn’t going to shift, but he was damn near close.
“You appear to be in need of a cleansing,” Anna whispered. “We have some gentle aroma therapies—”
“I’m not in need of any damn therapies,” Knox snapped. “What I need is for you witches to tell me what the hell this thing is?”
Sarah’s gaze darted to mine. I offered the best sympathetic smile I could muster. Looked like I was here to keep the peace. Part of me feared setting Knox off anymore, but if he badgered them, I knew they wouldn’t help. So, instead, I stepped forward and rested my hand against Knox’s. His gaze dropped to our fingers. I’d expected anger at my interference, but, instead, he wound our digits together and held fast.
His response knocked the breath out of me. That had to be the very last thing I’d expected.
“We found this mistletoe at a crime scene,” I informed the Cleary sisters. “We can smell the magic on it. And we’re here to see what you can tell us about it. Please.”
It was Mary who reached toward the mistletoe, then stopped before she could touch it. “This is endowed with powerful magic.”
“Which is why we’re here,” Knox grumbled.
“What exactly do you think this spell did?”
“Why don’t you tell us,” I reasoned. “It’s an active investigation, so we can’t divulge too much information.”
Knox caught my eye, a sly grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Hey, I had my moments.
Mary blew out a long breath and closed her eyes. Her hand hovered above the wreath, her fingers moving as though ma
nipulating energy. For all I knew, that was exactly what she was doing.
“This is unlike anything I’ve ever felt,” Mary whispered. “This isn’t a spell conjured from roots and herbs. This is magic.”
I squeezed Knox’s hand before he could reply to her, silently cautioning him to bite his tongue.
“I don’t mean the magic of my people. I mean magic. Pure energy woven into the leaves. It feels wild and untamed.” She laid her hand on the greenery, then sucked in a shaky breath. “Desire, lust, this is a dangerous spell.”
“What does it do?” I demanded.
She retracted her hand as though burned and cradled it against her chest. “Destroy it.”
“Sure. We have every intention of doing that, once we learn what it does.”
“It evokes unrequited passion.”
I shared a glance with Knox. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“Perhaps not, but this spell isn’t meant to coax it out of you. It’s intended to rip it free. As I said, it’s wild and untamed magic. Who knows the effects it might have on someone.”
Brittany and Ditton. My brow creased as I recalled their image. “Passions,” I repeated. “Could it force two people to sleep together?”
“Desire, lust, passion…these are dangerous emotions,” Mary said in the way of an answer. “It can bring about the downfall of even the most devout. It can awaken within you a hunger you never thought existed. And it can most certainly incite an appetite strong enough to force people to copulate.”
Were the situation not so grim, I might have laughed at her word choice. But I couldn’t stop picturing Ditton and Brittany. “They were at a Christmas party the night before,” I commented, then gripped Knox’s hand tightly. “A Christmas party, where someone might have brought mistletoe.”
Understanding dawned on his face. “So, say she ran into someone she knew, and they shared a kiss under the mistletoe.”
“Thereby casting the spell over them,” Sarah concluded.
“Appetite,” I blurted out. I reached across the counter and caught Mary’s hand. “You said appetite.”
“I did.”
“Could this spell affect someone strongly enough to kill?”
“Crimes of passion are common,” Mary said. “And with the power I feel exuding from this thing, I would assume yes.”
“A curse,” Ann commented. “Remove it from our sights.”
“Are you kidding me?” Knox barked. “This is magic. You’ve said it yourselves. I want to know which of your people did this.”
The color drained from the sisters’ faces.
“You dare accuse us?” Mary hissed.
“You’re the only coven in town,” he reasoned. “The only ones with access to magic.”
A beautiful fury rippled across the youngest sister’s face. “We would never do such a thing!”
“And they aren’t the only ones with access to magic,” I murmured to Knox.
His gaze snapped to mine. “What?”
“The fae.”
“The fae?” He let loose a rough laugh. “Why the hell would the fae unleash a curse like this on our people? They’re too busy hiding in their sidhes and worrying about their immortality.”
“And, as I said,” Mary snapped. “This magic is wild and untamed, two characteristics that belong to the fae, would you not agree?”
Knox grunted under his breath and glanced down at the mistletoe.
“Now, leave our store,” Ann ordered. “And take this blasphemous thing with you.”
Releasing Knox’s hand, I tugged my sleeve back down over my fingers and grabbed the mistletoe. So much for the coven’s help. Knox turned and stormed out of the shop without me.
I glanced back at the sisters and offered another faint smile. “Thank you for your help.”
“That one is volatile,” Mary told me, her eyes tracking Knox’s progression our vehicles. “He hides his true being from the world. You might be safer to keep your distance from him.”
Yeah, except I didn’t have that option anymore. I’d taken his olive branch.
“Burn it,” Sarah called out to me just as I was about to leave. “Fire cleanses most magics. When you’re ready to destroy that thing, it should do.”
“Thanks.”
I slipped out the door and into the cold, eying Knox as he leaned against my car.
Time to seek out the fae.
Question was, could he hold himself together long enough to root out the villain in this masterpiece?
4
“Are you going to the gathering tonight?”
Knox’s voice started me out of my reverie. He’d been utterly silent since leaving the Cleary’s shop, and I hadn’t encouraged any conversation beyond directions to the sidhe when I needed them. It wasn’t a place I frequented often. If at all. The fae…I tended to steer clear of them. As Mary had pointed out, they were the vicious sort.
“Rumor?”
“Sorry.” I blinked back my thoughts. “I am. I don’t have much choice in the matter.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the slight inclination of his head. “Why not?”
I released a deep breath and tightened my fingers on the steering wheel. This wasn’t exactly a conversation I wanted to have, but why hide the truth? They’d all find out. “My father is forcing me to choose a mate tonight. Someone not from my own pack. Someone with a high standing. A means of forging a bond.”
His silence unnerved me. When I finally stole a glance in his direction, I found him staring out the window, a slight tick working at the corner of his jaw. After a moment’s hesitation, he shook his head and faced the road ahead. “That’s barbaric.”
“No. Just old-fashioned. My parents were brought together that way, so my father feels it’s what’s best.”
“For his pack. Not for you.”
I couldn’t argue that. Everything my father did was best for the pack. In his eyes, I was nothing more than a bargaining chip he could use to secure a strong alliance. It was something I’d come to grips with many years ago. Once upon a time, the realization had stung. Knowing he would never care for me like other fathers did their daughters. But as time wore on, the pain lessened. I came to understand, and I learned to manipulate the situation.
Sadly, this was one situation I hadn’t yet been able to find a way out of.
“Do you have any candidates lined up?” Knox asked.
“No.” I shrugged. “I haven’t given it much thought, honestly. I was hoping I could change his mind.”
“You don’t want this?”
Who did? No one wanted to be sold off by their father as a way of forming a treaty. I didn’t dream about love—I wasn’t so naïve as to hope for that. But I did dream of freedom. A dream that seemed to drift further and further away as the days passed.
And, tonight, it would slip completely from my grasp.
“So, screw it,” Knox suggested. He shifted in his seat and stretched his long legs out. Not that my car was big enough for his length. “What’s the worst that could happen if you refuse to pick a mate?”
“Well, seeing as he’s the alpha of my pack, I’d guess a lot,” I intoned. “Exile? Death? Maiming?”
Knox shot me a wide stare. “You’re his daughter. Do you honestly think he’d condemn you to any of those punishments?”
“You don’t understand,” I murmured, more to myself than him. No one ever understood. As his daughter, my father practically demanded full submission to him. I was the one he expected to lead by example. If I didn’t respect him, how could we expect the rest of the pack to fall in line? “Look, can we not talk about this anymore?”
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I blew out a heavy breath and pushed my long bangs off my face. “I’m not upset. But I’d rather not spend any more time thinking about this.”
“Except you need to choose someone. And the gathering is in a few hours.”
“I know.” I flipped on the blinker and took
the next turn into the fae reservation area. “But we’re here, and we have other more important things to focus on.”
“More important? Rumor, this is your life—”
“Thank you, Knox.” I forced out.
He forced a nod, then turned and stared out his window as we approached the sidhe. I hadn’t meant to cut him off, but these thoughts were already circling my head. And, right now, we needed to remain focused on the task at hand. Me choosing a mate meant little in retrospect of these deaths.
“We need to tread carefully here,” I commented as I parked my car in the visitor lot. That the fae even had one seemed a touch ridiculous. “These guys aren’t like the witches. We can’t come right out and accuse them.”
“Says you.”
“Knox, please.”
He turned and caught my eye. “Why do you call me Knox? I have a first name, you know.”
Puzzled by the sudden change in conversation, I blinked and floundered for an answer. “It’s just always been your name to me. You’re Knox.”
“And Eli?”
“I’ve never really spoken to your brother before. I guess he’d just be Alpha.”
“He’ll be there tonight, you know. And he’s unmated.”
My nose wrinkled with the thought. “Ugh. I don’t even want to consider that.”
Something shifted in the air. Knox’s stare turned cold and hard, and the hairs on the back of my arms rose in response. “So, that’s how it is, hey? We’re not good enough for you?”
Whoa. Talk about a complete one-eighty. “I…never said that? I thought we were talking about Eli?”
Scoffing under his breath, he shoved open his door and unfolded from his seat. “Whatever. Let’s get this over with.”
“Hey!” I pushed open my own door and scrambled to my feet. Who the hell did he think he was? Just when I thought we were starting to get along, he pulls a temper tantrum. I stalked around the front of the car and came to a stop in front of him, hands perched on my hips. “What the hell is your problem?”
“Nothing. Come on. Like you said, we have work to do.”
He moved to brush past me. Frustration pricked at my sense of calm, and, without thinking, I lifted a hand and shoved him back against the car.
