Awakening: Book 1

by L. T. Marshall

  “The rest of the pack are not going to like this.” Matteo points it out, raising a brow at Colton, but is met with a blank stare that I can tell was a move from verbal conversation to mind. Whatever Colton says, Matteo looks away again, and gently taps me to nod towards the door that people are filing out of. He flushes lightly, his face reddening high in his cheek bones and I guess he got a quiet dressing down away from listening ears. To save face, Colton didn’t do it outright, showing he cares about his friend, even if he was pissed at his questioning his authority.

  I Won’t be long. Try and not engage with Carmen. His voice is like a last lingering stroke, giving me tingles as I move to leave him. I nod at him, not anywhere close to feeling as confident as I pretend, before turning on my heel, steeped in nervous energy, and let Matteo guide me with that single hand on my shoulder.

  Matteo is as familiar a face in my memories as Colton as they were always together, like brothers, or inseparable shadows. Having Colton’s memories show me that they’re best friends, but Matteo is also one of his commanders, and he trusts him completely. He’s the one who teased him that day in the lake, from the memory Colton showed me, and I guess he already knows that a long time ago Colton knew who I was. That Colton harbored some sort of juvenile feelings. That even as children, the fates were trying to draw me to him.

  I walk with him now, side by side, a male as tall as Colton, and as broad. They share similarities and I wonder if they’re maybe cousins, or blood tied in a close way because they do look alike. Same thick straight brows, and black hair that’s a little ruggedly messy, like they have a natural curl, although Colton’s is shorter so harder to tell. Same darkest brown molten eyes, tanned Latino skin tone, and square jawline, although Matteo is not as clean shaven or groomed. His hair not as clipped, or manicured, and his eyebrows not as angular, and tamed.

  Matteo’s like the rougher, less kempt, version of Colton who just rolled out of bed and threw on the first clothes to hand. He has a casual quality to him, less pulled together, and sharp. Colton takes pride in his appearance, and his clothes, and it’s obvious to everyone he comes from wealth when you see him on a normal day. He just oozes that effortless polish, expensive labels, and self-confidence. Matteo seems less concerned in his worn faded jeans, and grey hoodie, that don’t look designer either.

  “So, you’re Alora…. From the Whyte clan, right?” he nods as we dodge fast paced walkers and I’m not oblivious to how many glance my way, with sneers, and weird looks, as we pass them going to their rooms, or wherever they have to be. My presence is noted, and the vibes I’m picking up on tell me that people know who I am, or that they know I’m responsible for the trashing of their pack house. I try and ignore it, lowering my chin to avoid eye contact, and silently exhale to blow it all away.

  Everyone leaving the room at once causes mayhem in this narrow corridor, and I can’t tell which way we’re even moving as we’re crammed among so many, it’s like ants evacuating a collapsing den via the only escape route. It’s claustrophobic.

  “Yeah, I think we used to play in the same places as children.” I answer distractedly, as I avoid collision with oncoming traffic, trying to be polite, but I’m too busy side-stepping large males pushing by, and trying not to get trampled underfoot.

  “We did. I remember you. You had a brother, Jasper, about my age.” The use of his name, from someone else’s mouth, sucker punches me unexpectedly, and I have to bite my lip to stop the sudden inhale from the slice of pain it inflicts. Even after all these years, I’ve never really fully mourned the loss of them. I try never to think of them and push it down whenever one surfaces.

  “I did. He didn’t come back from the wars.” It’s a fast audibly painful response, my voice wavering, as I shake my head to expel the vision of him, so like my father in looks, and turn my eyes to the ground instead to watch my steps. The comment about his age means Matteo is older than Colton by at least five years, if not more, so it’s weird that Colton is the sub alpha and not Matteo. It gives me something else to focus on and not the memory of a brother I will never see again.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I guess time is not a healer, like they say.” He seems momentarily uneasy and I smile his way, bringing my eyes back to his with a sympathetic shrug. It never is the right time to have these kinds of awkward conversations.

  “I’m not used to hearing anyone say his name. At the home it was forbidden to talk of our loved ones, because they’re seen as shamed. They failed our people by dying.” I grind, tightening my limbs, as I churn out the words I heard so many times. Matteo frowns, something dark in the depths of his eyes, hinting at a reaction I don’t understand, and then it’s gone.

  “This way.” Matteo changes topic and points to a corridor veering off to the right of where we are, taking us out of the crush of people and into near silence of an empty passage. He stands for a moment looking around and I can tell he’s mind linking, probably calling their pack to where we’re going. It takes him a minute or so and then he turns his attention back to me. “The rest are on their way so we may as well show you it before they get here.” He walks ahead, down the dark corridor and opens a door at the very end with the use of a keypad. Pushing open a heavy solid cherry wood door and revealing an already lit room inside. It has working lights, so I guess they started replacing bulbs down here first and we walk in, letting the door swing shut behind us.

  It’s like a large study from an old-world time, with huge leather armchairs and a massive wall hugging fireplace off to one side. There’s one large walnut desk with a heavy dark green padded chair behind it, facing out into the center. Matching dark green leather couches by two of the walls; bookcases lining another and what looks like a mini bar in the gap left by the door. There’s a thick animal hide rug under our feet, I think it might be a brown bear, or some huge rough haired animal, and absolutely no windows in here at all.

  “Every pack has a communal room for hanging out, bonding, and talking shop. Ours is obviously the best because we’re lucky enough to have Juan Santo’s son as our Alpha. It’s a perk as we get favor.” I can’t tell if he’s being serious, or sarcastic, and don’t pick up on any real malice in his tone. It’s an odd thing to say if he isn’t trying to be an ass. He nods me towards a seat as he strolls to the fireplace, presses a button, and it explodes into instant flames. I thought it looked real, but I guess it’s gas.

  I sit close to it on one of the armchairs, not really cold, but watching flames has always brought me a sense of calm and reminded me of another time and place when my mother would brush my hair by ours. A time when I had no cares in the world, when I was secure and loved, nestling in the lap of my family. I try not to dwell on it and stare into the depths, emptying my mind.

  “Drink?” Matteo pulls my attention to him, now at the dark wood and glass bar and I shake my head. The last thing I need is to dull my senses and get drunk with a guy, or pack, that I don’t know and have every reason to treat me cruelly. I’m already nervous about them arriving and I can’t relax, even if he does seem more tolerant of me than most of this pack.

  You okay?

  Colton comes through loud and clear, checking on me, and for a second it warms me that he does, that maybe he felt my nervousness. His voice is that sound of home that I never knew I needed, and I find myself exhaling, like I’ve been holding my breath, as I lean back into the chair less stiffly.

  Just waiting on the others and sitting by the fire.

  I reply, setting his mind at ease and hoping I sound as comfortable here as I am pretending to be.

  I won’t be long, my father kept all the leaders back to talk plans, schedules, you know what I mean. If you need me, I’ll leave our link open. Don’t let any of them give you any shit or else they’ll have to deal with me. His deep husky voice has me pining for his presence, and I sigh wearily.

  Matteo is being a gentleman and taking care of me; I’m sure he’ll intervene. I’m trying to make him relax, but
the overwhelming surge I get back from his emotions that he didn’t like what I said, surprises me. It’s a hint of jealousy and I blink at Matteo as though I’m missing the point. He has his back to me, pouring his drink, and nowhere near me.

  Right. Like I said I won’t be long.

  His tone is clipped, and he closes link before I can respond, despite saying he wouldn’t, sounding off, and moody, and I swear it actually makes me want to laugh at how ridiculous he’s being. He sent me here with Matteo, and now he’s what? Jealous, because I said he was being nice. I knew males were territorial and possessive by nature, worse so when they mate up, but I’m not even his and he has nothing to worry about. We imprinted, and the fates made sure I have no desire to look at anyone else, even if he did reject me.

  I inhale sharply, shake it off, and go back to staring at the fire, trying not to let him get to me as the door swings open and two boys stomp in arguing with one another

  “You’re a liar, I didn’t say anything of the sort.” The first male snaps, turning and spotting me and instantly frowning like he’s just been faced with a terrible or vile sight. He stops dead as the other collides into the back of him with an exaggerated ‘whooomph’ noise. He’s unsurprisingly dark haired, tanned and has your typical Colombian look to him. All the Santos originated from there, before coming here a few generations ago. They tend to mate up with others like them, so the bloodline stays purest, and most of the males are sent back in early childhood to spend time in their homelands, so most have mixed accents, like Colton does.

  “Hey, watch it” the voice snarls angrily and shoves him forward, exposing an identical face and equal build, and I realize these two boys are twins. If memory serves right, I can pull out of Colton’s mind that this is Domi, and Remi. They’re younger than Colton by a year, making them eighteen, like me. Both lanky, tall, athletic boys, with brown hair and soft hazel eyes. More Santos and I know for sure they’re Colton’s distant cousins on his mom’s side.

  “And she is here why?” The first one turns to Matteo with a growl and is met with a snarl in response. Matteo seemingly growing an inch taller and faces them down.

  “Because Colton said so, and I doubt he wants to hear you were questioning it!” It’s not a friendly tone and it has the effect of dampening down the attitude on one of the twins at least.

  “He’s not questioning, he’s just a little shocked that our pack room has someone … not of our pack” the other chirps in, throwing me a devious side eye and I shrivel back into my chair, aware the waves of prickling heat coming my way are hostility, even while he is smiling on like it’s not.

  “Who’s not in our pack?” That female voice I’ve been dreading the arrival of, comes waving in as she walks in the door. Thick like honey, and sultry, preceding her entry. She sashays in like the Queen of the manor and stops dead in her tracks when she spots me. Grey eyes instantly storming over, pouty mouth forming a thin tight light, and porcelain skin paling as rage ignites under the surface. Her eyes start glowing intense amber as she growls her dislike at me and lowers her chin to move into an attack stance. Wolves are aggressive by nature and we literally jump to fight for every little thing. Bite, nip, attack. It’s just how we are.

  “Why in the fuck, has he let her in here?” Carmen loses her cool, steps at me fast but Matteo zaps forward using his hyper speed, blocking her in a nanosecond, and standing between us. He stands firm, lifts his chin, and makes a good show of exerting his dominance.

  “Colton wanted her here and will be along soon, so pipe down, go sit over there and behave!” Matteo has a tone not too dissimilar to Colton’s alpha tone, only less effective, and she draws her eyes from me to him, not as affected as she would be had their alpha said it.

  “Don’t tell me what to do…. You’re not my alpha, hell, you’re not even his beta.” The undercurrent of a snarl between them sizzles and I tense, waiting for it to get crazy in here. Surprised that Matteo is not his second in command and I rake my memories to find out who is. I swear to god it better not be Carmen, or I’m in trouble.

  “Ahora, ahora, que tenemos aqui?” Another female voice floats in, soft, light, and strangely alluring, with a deep raspy undercurrent as three more wolves stroll in unannounced, and I recognize her as Meadow, one of the older femmes in her late twenties, mated to the one behind her, Cesar. Her brother is in tow, Jesus, and they stop to gaze over the little scene in hand.

  “Ahora Ninas, go sit down before I break a claw reminding you who is beta in this room when Colton is not here. Sit!” Her accent is heavy, and thick, clear she’s an incomer to Radstone and English is not her first language. It’s not uncommon for wolves with links elsewhere to sometimes bring in family pack from further away, to live with them, or find a mate, and I know Meadow’s been with us for a few years, maybe even as far back as the war. Her accent has never faded though.

  Matteo and Carmen give one last snarl and separate, walking to the couches, chastised, and surprisingly not defying her. They’re followed by the twins, who avert eyes from their new member and instantly go into sulk mode, slumping together on one sofa and stare at me with lowered eyelids. No hint of warmth, which adds to my growing uneasiness as I sit stiffly where I was. Meadow strolls into the room fully, confidently, eyeing me up, unashamedly, and I get the sensation I’m being weighed up as prey.

  She’s a sight to behold, at five feet eight, strong, graceful, and very Latino. Black hair, the most amazing pale blue eyes under sculpted black brows, and deeply tanned skin. She has full lips, catlike eyes with perfect make up, and an outfit of clingy denim with a blouse that shows off her ample cleavage.

  She’s beautiful but has an aura of terrifying. She doesn’t stray out of the Santo side of the lands much, but it’s obvious that Matteo is not Colton’s second in command. Meadow is. I wouldn’t argue with her, her natural nails are long, sharp, and pointed, with a nice shellac of blood red, so I can’t imagine what her wolf claws would be like. She puts the fear in me with just her presence.

  “Hi. I’m Cesar, this is Jesus…. and the infamous Meadow here.” Cesar nods at me, no hint of either dislike, or friendliness in his blank statement. He’s another tall stocky type and I’m starting to see a pattern with this pack. Best of the breed and all alarmingly alike, except Carmen, the only blonde among them. They’re all big, strong, and have lashings of both aggression and attitude, common among our strongest. I’m sure as a pack they have many a battle of wills and lots of spats.

  “She knows who we are, don’t you, Amiga? She has Cole’s memories and I’m sure she knows how to access them.” Meadow strolls in front of me, heels clicking on the hardwood floor, her eyes wandering over me as she takes me all in without caring how uncomfortable it’s making me. Devouring my appearance with a critical eye.

  “I do” I answer sheepishly, aware another has entered the open door and praying that has to be all of them. This is getting crowded and I’m starting to feel like raw meat being lowered into a hungry lion’s den. I don’t even glance their way, as Meadow has a commanding quality that demands you give her our full attention.

  “How, oh how, did the fates get this so wrong?” Jesus sneers at me, appearing beside her, not too dissimilar in looks to his sister, only masculine where she is feminine, and instantly shuts up when Meadow throws him a pointed glare with a subtle growl.

  “The fates are never wrong! Don’t you know that?” She snaps, before taking a calming breath, lifting her hands, making motions in the air as though to accompany deep breaths. She smirks when she catches my eye and bends towards me, almost dropping her massive boobs from her low-cut top in my face. “I don’t know. I sense something in this one. You think, Papi, she has a little summin, summin?”

  Cesar doesn’t seem impressed, or not impressed, totally blank, and I can only assume he is who she calls Papi. I know it’s a name for your lover or mate. She reaches out picking up a strand of my wild unbrushed hair and runs her fingers through it slowly, tingling my scalp as it t
ugs gently. Putting me on edge and making me so uncomfortable I feel like calling on Colton, but I don’t. I have to expect his pack are going to be like this at a first meet. I mean, he just threw me in with them amid all that happened today, and they’re sizing me up to see how much grit I have. I can’t show them weakness, or they’ll shred me.

  “Is it true she came from the home for the rejects? The ones the Vamps all slaughtered.” One of the twins can’t conceal his disgust, and Carmen sneers, a look of anger crossing her face and darts him a side eye glare.

  “Yes. And our formidable alpha lowered his standards and tried to mark this mutt. He needs his head read.” Carmen is quick to chirp in with her dislike of me, seething hatred my way. The room feels like it’s closing in as anxiety builds and my panic grows, and I wonder how long before I get cornered and chewed on.

  “Ai…” It’s a sharp sound given out to shut her up, Meadow standing to roll her own hair between two fingers and facing them with an air of ‘I’m getting so pissed’. “Don’t disrespect our alpha’s companera, I won’t tolerate it, and neither will he. Don’t make me mad, Chica, I don’t like when I get mad.”

  Meadow is by far the scariest femme I have ever come across and I don’t know why she’s unnerving me so much, because she seems pretty sane on the surface. It’s just, she has an aura that screams ‘certified psycho’ and every single time she moves, I flinch internally, getting antsier by the second as she stands so close to me.

  Carmen recoils, obviously knowing only too well that Meadow doesn’t make empty threats and Matteo clears his throat to distract her. He too seems like he knows he should diffuse things and it only heightens my wariness. Some of the femmes in our packdom are worse than the mates in terms of volatile aggression and ability to maim and I’m starting to think Meadow is one.

  “Drinks anyone? While we wait on him.” Matteo glances around for takers and gets a couple of quiet nods.

  “No, nosotras have other plans for our little companera. She needs a little help over here.” Meadow clicks her tongue at me to catch my attention and when I look up at her she extends her finger and motions me to come. It’s creepy and yet an order, and without question I slide up in my chair, heartbeat elevating and wondering what the hell she plans on doing to me.