Fated, She Flies

by Brea Viragh

  “Yes, I know.” Calen interrupted. “Everything has to be perfect for the engagement dinner tonight.” He swiped his arm across his forehead to clear it of sweat, the space near the ovens heated to a perfect boiling temperature.

  And he’d been standing there all day.

  “Yes, it has to be perfect,” Bozart agreed. “It means, when the time comes to serve, you will stay behind in the kitchens.”

  “Are you serious?” His eyes bulged. “Why do I have to stay down here? I deserve a break, too, dammit.”

  “You stay here because there can be no distractions with this engagement. The deal must go through, and if Odessa sees you, she might try to make a run for it. She has before.”

  Calen slammed his fist down on the counter with a boom. “She deserves better than some stranger. You know the Robert’s pack dabbles in the dark arts?”

  “Hearsay.” Bozart shrugged, barking out a string of orders to the rest of the kitchen staff before returning his attention to Calen. “Siegfried, you’ll do what I say this time. Nothing can get in the way of this engagement. Nothing. Odessa must go through with it for the good of the pack. Repeat after me.”

  Though it cost him, and with his jaw clenched, Calen managed to get out the words, “for the good of the pack.”

  “Odessa has her part to play, as do the rest of us. And you can just be lucky the alpha let you stay.”

  With that, Bozart was done, shuffling his midsection around the island toward whatever prep still needed his attention before the party commenced in an hour.

  Calen spared a final glance toward the staircase where he could have sworn he heard the echo of Odessa’s laughter. His heart settled painfully at his feet as he returned to work.

  Knowing the only thing he was good for was making lemon tarts.

  Chapter 2

  Odessa refused to be auctioned off to the highest bidder.

  Or so she had told her father recurrently when he first broached the topic of an arranged marriage. But of course, Alexander Darrow absolutely would not listen to a word of protest. He had a large Lycan community to oversee, and within his hierarchy, every wolf fell in line.

  Including his daughter. When he snapped his fingers, he expected his will be done.

  The initial conversation of “what do you think of this” had been merely for show.

  Which brought her to the current balmy August evening with her hair curled to high heaven, being stripped from her dress of gemstones and thrown into a body-hugging leotard of the same material.

  She’d be forced to don the dress later, of course. After, as she spoke face-to-face with her soon-to-be husband for the first time without a congregation of elders scrutinizing the interaction.

  “Are you ready for this dance? It’s going to be amazing,” Jean practically yelled in her ear.

  Odessa hissed and leaned the other way, hoping she hadn’t shown fang. It was considered passé to exert dominance for no reason. “I don’t think I’ll ever be ready,” she muttered, allowing Jean to wind her hair into a loose bun for the performance, pins going everywhere. “It’s my last dance.”

  Her packmates bustled around her in a flurry of activities, women she’d grown up with since they were cubs together, before their first transformation to wolf form.

  “Did someone grab the foundation?” one called.

  Another held up a compact. “Got it! Hairspray?”

  Yet another woman answered the question, the back and forth worse than a quick-fire volley at Wimbledon.

  They fiddled with their outfits, checked their reflections in the mirror, and gave Odessa a new level of anxiety she hadn’t thought possible before today.

  She placed a hand on her stomach when it lurched again. How could she possibly go through with this? Marry a man she had never truly met beyond a brief hello? Marry a man chosen by her father, not in regard to her own happiness and welfare, but for the good of their people?

  Odessa loved her people, truly. She wanted the best for the Taunway Lake pack. The same as her father. But was that reason enough to commit herself to a life of misery?

  “Come on. The show is about to start and we’re going to be late.” Jean tugged Odessa to her feet, the other woman shorter by a foot but with enough attitude to make up for the difference. Laser-sharp eyes took in the outfit from top to bottom. Took in the whole picture, actually, if the last-minute tweaking to her earrings and blush were any indication. “Don’t worry, you’re going to do great. The other guests have already taken their seats, and we will be right behind you the entire time.”

  Chelsea, a wolf younger than Odessa by several years, squealed as she looked out the window. “My God, there are people everywhere! I’ve never seen so many of us gathered in one place.”

  “The Roberts pack must have arrived, then,” Jean finished.

  Of course, they were here. If Odessa knew anything about the Evertooth alpha or his son, Van—her fiancé, she corrected herself with distaste—then she knew them to be prompt. Sticklers for the rules and the rigid ways which had governed the Lycan society for the last few hundred years.

  The ache in her stomach that she hadn’t been able to get rid of rose higher until bright pain flashed beneath her collar bone.

  Oh, God, she couldn’t do this. She couldn’t go through with it.

  Jean grabbed her by the hand, Chelsea moving to the right side, both prepared to shepherd her down the stairs to where her prince waited.

  How was Odessa going to dance with this insane pressure building inside of her?

  Her slippers skid on the stone stairs when she mis-stepped, causing her to stumble. Luckily her packmates, also known as her bridesmaids, were there to steady her.

  “I know you must be so excited!” Jean stated, her fingers tightening on the hand she held. “I mean, Van is hot.”

  “I hadn’t noticed,” Odessa murmured. Desperately trying to find her balance.

  “Oh, super-hot,” Chelsea agreed with a nod of her head. The rest of the girls behind them voiced their opinion with a similar hum. “I mean, anyone in their right mind would be happy to have him as a mate.”

  Jean nodded in agreement. “Not only is he attractive, but he is a good provider. Strong and steady. I heard how he patrols his territory borders with his men to make sure they are protected.”

  “I also hear he dabbles in black magic.” Odessa made the mistake of speaking her mind, and had her bridesmaids gasping behind her.

  “It’s gotta be a lie. Dabbling in the arts is forbidden to us.” Jean slowed her steps and turned to face her princess. “The only magic that belongs to us is the moon, and we follow her sway. That’s all, and anyone who says otherwise is a dirty damn liar.”

  Odessa took a deep breath and pushed her reservations down into a tiny box inside of her. Then she locked it. Tossed the key. Urged her cheek muscles to lift her lips in a grin. “I’m just joking with you. Trying to lighten a little bit of the tension.”

  “Oh, good.” Jean’s smile came quickly.

  And the moment she turned, Odessa let hers drop.

  Dread settled heavy on her shoulders as the women pushed her down the last flight of stairs to the back door.

  She could use a little black magic herself. If it meant getting out of this marriage, she’d do whatever it took. Then she sighed, her chin dropping. That wasn’t exactly true. She’d had time to back out. All she’d done was run. She’d run away twice, and both times, their own patrols found her, returning her to the pack elders to let them decide how to handle her rash behavior.

  Besides a few stern words bordering on lecture, no one seemed to care what she thought of the marriage or that she’d tried to physically escape. They only cared that she followed through without complaint. “Let her try to run,” Alex Darrow told the others when he thought she could not hear. There was no place on this earth for her to go where his pull would not follow her.

  “Odessa knows what she must do,” he had said that day. “And when the time
comes, she will be ready.”

  Yes, she did know, and she dreaded every moment of what her life had and would become.

  Alex told her of the sacrifices he’d made on his own ascension to Alpha. The expectations he’d risen to meet. Not to share an ounce of commiseration. No, he would never do anything so touchy-feely. But to warn her of the expectations and the consequences should she fail.

  To soothe her, Alex had erected a stage in the gardens behind the two-story stone mansion the Taunway pack hierarchy called home. Their estate sprawled across a rolling meadow, with patios and balconies crawling with white roses and glossy green ivy. A round of woods bordered the land, too far in the distance for any human to make out the line of the forest. She, however, saw each proud trunk, every sprawling limb, her eyesight impeccable.

  He’d done it out of consideration for his daughter—his only consideration toward her, she knew, thinking her less likely to create further disturbances about the wedding if he placated her with a performance.

  She needed to feel that freedom. He was right. That wild surging of her body that came with only two instances in her life: shifting, and dancing.

  Odessa knew how to move her body. How to make each muscle scream and sing in a performance like no other. She reveled in the work it took to produce something so beautiful, the work to make the dance look effortless.

  It is the same with shifting, she mused as her bridesmaids situated her behind the curtain, checking her shoes, her hair, her outfit to make sure everything was in place. A pinprick of annoyance lodged itself in her spine at their prodding. They didn’t need to worry so over her. She knew the steps to take, the intricate balance between muscle and poetry. If her hair happened to fall, then it would do nothing to take away from the magic of the moment.

  Yes, they needn’t worry.

  She understood well the infinite moments between moves where the body and soul must work in unison to decide the form. The power that swirled in and around each Lycan as they changed from human to beast. It came with pain, yes, but it meant reward. The same with her dance.

  “There, you’re in place!” Jean exclaimed, her eyes taking on a maniacal glint. “The curtain goes up in one minute. Are you ready?”

  No, Odessa desperately wished to say. She would never be ready. Never ready to give up her time, her life, her future, to a man she didn’t know anything about. A man whom most of the whispered gossip told to be cold and distant.

  She glanced toward the side of the stage and the exit cloaked in darkness. Yearning tugged at her, a desire to flee and run as fast as she could, knowing a chance for a future lay beyond the dark. If she sprinted down the hallway, she could make a run for it, and none besides her bridesmaids would be the wiser. Sure, keen noses of the pack guards would eventually track her down, but she might be able to use the head start to her advantage.

  If she shifted—

  Everything in her told her to run. Told her that she should bolt when no one expected.

  But Odessa squared her shoulders, straightened her spine, and accepted the weight. Accepted the responsibility that was hers to bear, despite the screaming within her. She’d known this day would come. Had been groomed for it her entire life.

  She bowed her head, closing her eyes and getting her body into position.

  Within seconds, it seemed, her father’s voice reached her. The voice she’d come to associate with safety, pride, and fear.

  “Friends and packmates, hail! Welcome on this most joyous occasion. We are here tonight to celebrate the union between my daughter, Odessa Darrow, and the Prince of the Evertooth pack, Van Roberts. Together, these two shall usher us all into a new era of prosperity for both our clans, I am sure. The strength of our two packs united will ensure our might for years to come! Hail!”

  “Hail!” The crowd echoed his sentiment, the single word rising on a roar toward the heavens.

  Goosebumps rose on her skin at the force behind that one word. Yes, there was something magical about the sound of so many howls joined together in harmony. Power, as well. She couldn’t help the tingle traveling down her spine and filling her with ice.

  An ice she’d yet to thaw.

  “Now, as a special beginning to the nuptial celebrations, I’d like to welcome you all to our home with a performance by my daughter and her pack mates. Please put your hands together for Odessa and her original modern adaptation of Swan Lake.”

  The curtain rose a moment later. Her breath came out in a whoosh, pulse pounding in her ears, and when Odessa lifted her gaze to the crowd at last, time slowed. Spotlights shone bright and hot in her direction. The silver beads sewn into her bodice reflected that light in a thousand directions as the music flowed through her with those first opening violin chords. Yes, Swan Lake. A favorite of hers for the longest time, but this tune was different. Joined with the darker strains of cello and bass, the melody took on a slightly more romantic tone.

  The way her father urged.

  Odessa spurred her body into action, her right leg kicking out in a circle and the rest of her bending in the opposite direction.

  There.

  Her mind cleared enough that she flowed effortlessly into the feeling of freedom she desired. The freedom she would no longer have come tomorrow night, once the wedding began. When she and Van became official mates for the remainder of their days.

  A lifetime was a long time.

  The brief glance at the crowd showed her the front row of chairs occupied by her father, along with the Alpha of the Evertooth pack, and...

  Van.

  Seated with his arms crossed over his chest, black dress shirt tight across his shoulders, and his features drawn in a scowl. He kept his hair buzzed short, giving him the air of a military man who tolerated nothing short of perfection from his underlings.

  Were the rumors of dark magic true? Did he dabble where wolves had no business dabbling?

  Odessa quickly turned her attention away, not wanting to look at him. A leap took her to the other side of the stage, and she landed lightly on her feet. Her supernatural abilities brought a whole new level of artistry to the dance. Moves that should have been difficult were effortless.

  The violins rushed toward crescendo and the rest of her bridesmaids joined her in the background.

  Barely winded, Odessa drew out the last few moves. Not wanting the dance to end. Not wanting her last rush of freedom to end.

  When she next glanced up, her gaze drew automatically to the rear of the gardens and the ancient oak tree where she’d spent many an afternoon playing as a child.

  There, leaning against the trunk, was Calen.

  He flashed her a smile as though to say all was well.

  Except it wasn’t. Would it ever be again? Could she be happy with a man like Van?

  No one else would bother to turn around and look for Calen, not when there were so many gravel paths to follow. So many spearing flowers blooming late into the season, fragrant fire-engine red blossoms swaying in a late evening breeze. So he stayed hidden. Better for her.

  Odessa finished the dance for Calen, for her friend, because she knew that out of everyone in this world, he would always have her back. Truly, for he had nothing to gain from their friendship. Although they were miles apart in pack structure, he had no chance of moving higher no matter what tricks he might think to pull. A wolf who couldn’t shift should have been immediately put to death.

  Instead, her father had chosen to spare Calen. Which meant his entire life hung on the word of the pack.

  She danced for her friend, for the affection she recognized in his eyes and the warmth of his kind spirit. Miles from the cold indifference she’d sensed in Van the one time they’d met before the engagement had been finalized.

  And when tears wanted to come, she pushed them aside. Tucked them into the same neat box as her reservations and desire to scream. Her neck craned, arms out at each side and legs tapping out a furious beat on the wooden stage.

  One more breath. The
n another. She forced herself to focus on the joy of the dance. Because this may very well be her last. One final time to do what she loved for her friends and family, as well as the strangers who would soon join those two sects. Odds were good that once she took up the mantle of alpha, her dancing days were done.

  Those tears burned desperately behind her closed lids. Odessa focused on the music. The rise and fall of the notes and the dark burning chords of the bass and cello.

  When the final melody played, she struck her pose, arms lifting overhead and stationary at last. Her muscles warm and aching in the best way.

  The cheers in front of her made no difference. They did nothing to thaw the ice creeping toward her heart, despite the heat in her physical body.

  This was it. Her final run before being shackled in a marriage she didn’t want. Behind her, the wolves twisted, dancers all, their sculpted bodies nimble.

  Odessa kept to her perfect, precise movements. Her own body an instrument for the music. Beautiful. Otherworldly. And yet...

  She should have enjoyed herself greatly with this dance. Instead she found nothing but sorrow.

  The lights went out at last.

  And Odessa did not expect arms to wrap around her waist, a hand slapping her mouth and steel at her back, the stench of magic burning a trail down her insides.

  Chapter 3

  Calen knew better than to disobey Bozart’s direct order to remain in the kitchen. If the senior chef found out about the subterfuge and the sneaking around, then there would be literal hell to pay, most likely in the form of extra hours scrubbing dishes.

  God, he hated scrubbing dishes.

  And make no mistake, there would be plenty after the wedding tomorrow evening. Their Alpha, Alex, had spared no expense on the decadence of the menu. He’d planned six courses total with a lavish dessert bar and plenty of alcohol. It meant that once the festivities ended, not only would there be a massive amount of cleanup, but hundreds of drunk wolves to deal with.

  Goodie. Drunk wolves. His favorite.