Awakening: Book 1

by L. T. Marshall

  I might be the fates trying to set the scales right, but Colton is obviously not part of that plan, because no way in hell would they allow him to be such a dumb ass and do such a hurtful and stupid thing if he was my forever. How could he be if they let him mark her and break me all over again. You don’t come back from a betrayal of the mate bond, not like this.

  “So, your father’s raging a war with not only vamps, whom he set in motion, but his own pack, even though his intention was to lord over you all? And half of you now live in the manor that belonged to your mom, a half witch? A manor you knew you had but didn’t need. All while I was off finding your mom who holds the key to us having some sort of powerful gifts to put things right?” I digress, trying to put everything in order and avoid all mention of what a douchebag, selfish, hurtful, cheating, dickhead he is.

  “Yeah, sounds right.……. My mom’s family are mostly gone. Not that I ever knew them, and I only knew I inherited this manor because she left me it as a birthday gift on my sixteenth with a femme she trusted. It sat empty, she never lived there, so we had some cleaning up to do. Generally, though, I’m guessing she really is a witch as it was completely untouched, and no one seemed to be able to get in until I tried the door. It was weird but…. a god damn witch! The strangest part is…. I don’t feel shocked. It’s like I knew, but I didn’t. I can’t explain it.” He’s slowly coming back to that swoony high school jock as he talks, hints of normal Colton shining through at me, but it doesn’t dampen my feelings of hurt.

  I allow my eyes to stray back to him, holding my outward cool and trying not to let all I’m thinking spew out at him while being really good at focusing on the important issues in this conversation. Not me and him, and I’m trying to absorb his words and that other little issue that has been getting to me, peeks out.

  “At least it’s not vampire…. can’t say that was welcome news.” I answer sarcastically, a little more edge to my tone than I intended, watching that slight change to his expression and completely unable to read it. He half frowns, his jaw tensing a touch, but he doesn’t have any kind of over dramatic response at all. No instant hatred or recoiling in disgust.

  “It is what it is, doesn’t change who you are. It’s just something to figure out, I guess.” He doesn’t look my way and I can tell he’s not as okay with it as he’s making out, but he’s also not freaking out and calling me a monster either. I really expected a bigger reaction to be honest and this seems anticlimactic. I probably took it worse than he is.

  “The sub pack won’t accept me back when they find out.” I point out as if that was ever in my master plan, but I guess it partly is. I mean, everything is upside down and my plan of leaving and running just brought me back right here to where I started, among the people I left behind. No idea what the future holds anymore, especially if the wolves are warring too. The pack seems like my destiny, even if he is not.

  “Why not? You think they’ll care? You’re Alora, and I’m Cole to them…. they won’t give a shit if we’re half breeds. That’s not how they are…. it’s how my father is. And we’re not the only hybrids hidden in the Santo pack. Nor the subs. Secrets are rife in my father’s kingdom because he’s an asshole and it took me way too many years to realize that and see through him.” He grips the wheel, that growl again in the undertone as his own words touch a nerve and I can tell the whole father things is getting to him way more than anything. Maybe finding out about his mom was the final straw.

  I grasp at that titbit of information though, shocked, instantly grabbing at the file marked Colton’s memories but know I won’t even know what to look for in the nineteen years’ worth of them, and instead start pulling names out of boxes in a bid to figure out which subs are also half breeds.

  “Who? What secrets?” I blurt out, overwhelmed with too many scenarios and thoughts. The downside to having a head full of someone else’s memories is they are too vast sometimes to know you possess an answer without them guiding you to the right visual. I probably have so many things in my head about him that I haven’t even opened and explored. I definitely didn’t ever stop on any conversations about hybrids in the pack.

  Colton sighs, tapping the steering wheel as he guides us onwards and shrugs. Like this isn’t news to him and acting like it’s nothing really in the grand scheme of things. To him maybe, but I spent my life being told I was an impure reject only to find out the Santos have been interwoven with that all along.

  What the hell?

  “The twins are hybrids. Angelics, actually. Then meadow, her mother was a shifter, not Lycan, still a wolf, but different. She’s fierce because she’s multi gifted, like you are, and my father made sure no one knew his son pack-bonded with impure breeds. He couldn’t do anything about them, as they are all Santo by blood and he’ll never shame his own bloodline or admit that most of the pack come from interbred unions. There are hundreds of supernatural species, wolves are highly sexed horn dogs, they will fuck anything.” delivered with a callous smirk and a hint of pride at his own species being hoes. Only a man would actually be proud of that.

  “Eww, Colton!” I slap his arm, stinging my own fingers in the process, grossed out and a little offended with that last sentence. It’s hardly admirable in a species who also like to mate for life when they pick the right one.

  “It’s true and the biggest secret of all. The haze doesn’t just make us want to bone each other… it’s a free for all and has been for centuries. I’m pretty sure my father isn’t even a hundred percent Lycan. He can’t trace his roots any more than anyone else and the history books are complete fabrication, with every alpha removing parts they deem shameful. They’re bullshit … like him removing prophecies. I would put money on the fact that the Santo wolves being all shades are a massive nod to us being mixed species. The original Lycans were always brown. Brown with amber eyes …. most of the Santos are grey.”

  “Why am I only knowing this now? How long have you know all of this?” I blanche as my head spins and it’s like I’m relearning the entire history of everything I’ve ever known. All while he’s over there like Mr. Cool. taking it in his stride without barely even a blink that our entire existence is based on horse shit. The nausea envelopes me fully and I get a little lightheaded with the number of explosions going off in my brain.

  “Not long. The Shaman, he’s with us, and finally no longer bound to his alpha Juan because I’m the rightful leader and he doesn’t have to obey my father anymore. He can now unleash all he knows without fear of the fates punishing him for betrayal. He’s a wealth of knowledge. Like what having red eyes in white wolves really means and why you had extra strong powers.” He raises a knowing brow at me and even that clicks into place.

  “You knew?” I gasp at him, sitting up tall and leaning at him in utter disbelief. That statement makes my head spin and I honestly can’t even with him right now. My stomach is all in knots, my palms sweaty, and I think my lungs were on the verge of packing in with the fear of his reaction, and he already fucking knew!

  “I’ve known for a couple of weeks. It all slotted into place when I found out and now, I guess I know why you found it hard to home in on your abilities and why they weren’t run of the mill wolf gifts. I’ve had time to get used to it, you might say.”

  I slump back, rubbing my temples with my fingers as everything blurs slightly and the lack of oxygen from gasping hits me between the eyes. I feel woozy.

  “What else did he tell you?” I breathe out, feeling surreal now.

  “Nothing really that important in our current situation. Just general history of our people and the fact you’re not the first like you. Neither was your mother. He knew nothing of my mom’s whereabouts, her breed, or anything about my father’s actions before he came to the Santo house seven years ago. The Shaman previous to him died, and he came to us from my family’s origin in Colombia. He never really fell for my father’s bullshit and has always kept his peace and distance from the pack elders and the sub packs loy
al to my father.”

  It all explains why in the room after imprinting he was the one to intervene and Colton always said he trusted him. Now I know why, and it clicks together, another puzzle piece falling into place. Another random tidbit from our combined past that had more meaning than either of us comprehended at the time.

  “Everything is crazy, yet all seems to tie together. Even us.” I drop my hands on my lap, still leaning my head against the rest and suddenly so very exhausted with thinking, feeling, talking. Everything taking its toll, coming to a massive head, and draining what little energy I have left inside of me. I’m heavy and weighted down in so many ways, all while his presence is screwing me up and I want to curl up and shut it all off for a bit.

  “I knew. About us…. Like the whole witch thing. Something in me; it wasn’t a surprise when we imprinted. It’s like I always knew, yet somehow my brain didn’t know how. Maybe I have her visions and somehow when she bound me, I lost the memory of them. I can’t grasp it, but it’s like all of this was always out of reach of my fingertips, but I knew it was there. When it happened, it was like déjà vu in a sense.” Colton casts me an apologetic look and I get that hint of regret, slowly filtering my way as if he’s lifting the wall between us a bit at a time and yet it’s too late. A dimple appearing with a coy boyish half smile that doesn’t do anything to lift my growing black cloud.

  I just glare at him, making sense of it but at the same time hating on him all the more with what he just admitted to me. If he knew somehow, then why the hell did he let me go? Why did he reject me?

  “Then you’re an even bigger idiot.” I snap, emotionally done and this adds another layer of fatigue to what I can’t handle as it is. Turning my head and staring out the window, tensing up and bristling with that same pain all over again and fighting my own stupid tears. I’m getting so fed up with feeling like shit when it comes to him. And he sits and admits that he maybe knew I should have been more important to him all along. Screw him. It crushes me and I no longer want to talk and figure all of this out. I want him to leave me alone.

  “I learn from my mistakes. I’m here, aren’t I?” I can feel his eyes on me, but I refuse to look. Heart stricken with a clawing gnawing slicing agony.

  “You can’t undo what’s done. Just drop it, okay. Now isn’t the time to talk about us. We need to get your mom someplace to wake her up, see what the hell she has to say about all of this and how we unbind these gifts that are somehow going to do something in the grand scheme of things.” My voice is low and raspy, I sound upset, yet probably tired, and I can feel him eating away at me with his eyes as he tries to read me.

  “I can’t believe I ever doubted you weren’t going to be the Luna we all needed. I was wrong… to doubt you, to doubt us. I really am sorry that I wasn’t what you needed. I can’t tell you how much I regret everything, baby.” There is genuine sorrow and it’s just another nail in his coffin.

  “Don’t okay. It’s been a long freaking day and I’m exhausted. I want to close my eyes and think about all of this later. I feel like my head’s going to explode and we’re not even getting the whole picture yet. I’ve been running for so long and I think my body is finally giving up on me.” It’s a hint, turning fully away from him as I try and get comfy on the worst seats ever invented as we bump along a relatively smooth road. Colton looks at me; a long drawn out pause of seconds and relents, exhaling heavily. He knows defeat when he senses it.

  “Try and sleep, the manor is a while away and it’s not like I’m about to let you out of my sight anytime soon. We have time to talk. I think I need the headspace too, to figure some stuff out. I can’t believe my mom is laying out behind me. This is all so surreal.” There’s a lightness to what he says, and I blank it.

  I curl up against the window fully, not like I needed his permission, but I’m grateful he’ll leave me be. He still has it in his head that I belong to him, even though somewhere out there, most likely this manor, he has an actual mate and he needs to remember that. I’m not his, he’s not mine, and when Sierra wakes up and unbinds me, then we need to figure out how to keep our distance and navigate this if we’re all going to get through it.

  Colton’s story and mine, it’s going to head in different directions when Sierra tells us what to do. We both need to accept that and deal with it.

  Homestead

  The warm sensation sliding around me and the sudden weightlessness I experience wakes me up before his voice does. A feeling of floating, as everything comes back to me and my brain re-engages with my limbs, as warm hands, and body transfer heat to mine.

  “Baby, we’re here, wake up.” Colton’s honey tone slides over me as his scent submerges me in a firm cozy hold, submerged in his delicious scent that makes me giddy, and I blink my eyes open to find myself in his arms while being scooped out of the truck as he stands by my door. The night is cloaking in around us but illumination from the front of me makes my eyes blurry as I try to adjust and screw them shut again quickly. Taking a moment to savor the weird in between state of awake and dreaming while being cradled. He has me in his arms, pressing me to him, one under my legs and one around my back while my face is in against the crook of his throat, nestling me in as the cool air brings me round fully.

  I slide my hands up his expanse of hard chest impulsively, searching out a place to anchor myself, aiming to slide around his neck when sense fully awakens me and I realize this is probably not wise when my heart is so bruised. That getting all tangled up with Colton is the opposite of what I need. It’s far too easy to accept his touch and his willingness to add intimacy to the mix but I have to be stronger than him.

  “I can walk, put me down.” I croak hoarsely, my sleep addled tone heavy and I wriggle to get my legs free. Resisting even if it’s feeble and thankfully he isn’t too set on fighting me.

  Colton relents after a moment of hesitation, sliding my feet to the ground carefully, but he keeps me anchored to him with the arm around my waist and tugs me front on. Bodily closing the gap between us and lifts his other hand to stroke my cheek as he leans in to bridge the height difference. Rendering me momentarily senseless, as that burning connection makes my knees buckle almost completely. He cups my face and pulls me in, bringing his forehead down to mine and pushes us together intimately. Our breaths mingling in the cool air and I’m overly aware how dangerously close this is, a slight inch more and he’ll be kissing me. Caught tired, and slow in reaction speed, and somehow feeling vulnerable at waking up to his touch.

  “When my mom’s settled in the infirmary, we need to talk. We need to figure this out and fix us. I missed you more than you’ll ever know, Lorey. I’m never letting you go again.” His eyes stray to my lips and that crazy overwhelming urge to lean in and take what he’s pondering doing almost kills me. My own lips parting slightly as the tug of desire pulses through me with fervor and I’m powerless to pull back when caught in his breath this way.

  His touch goosebumps my skin all over, the low intensity of his voice drawing me in as if no one else exists around us and I almost weaken to the point of melting into him. My pelvis, and between my thighs heats up to molten lava at this kind of contact with him and I almost have to press my knees together to gain some control. The haze is approaching, and I guess it’s already starting to screw with my libido, or maybe it’s always just him and I’m still a weak fool for this man. More so when caught off guard and too sleep addled to think straight. So easy when this feels so right, but I catch myself and finally muster the strength to pull back, covering his hand with mine and sliding it from my face.

  “Colton…” I start to rebuff him, but he doesn’t let me loose as easily as he put me down.

  “We can’t ignore how we feel about each other. That we’re meant to be.” It’s a hint of desperation in his ravaged tone, mirroring my urges, his jaw tensing and squaring off which only makes those irresistible dimples prominent and those lowering brows bring out the cute boy face. Leaning closer and making it hard
er to breathe when my senses are filled with him. It sparks that self-defense mechanism in me though, that urge to run far away before he cripples me again, and I slide my hands between us and push him away with enough force to get him to release me.

  “Why not? You did!” I bite, stepping back coldly, as his hold drops and the sweep of hurt and regret is evident on that flawless face. It tugs at me, slicing my own heart with a sharp stab but I don’t weaken, pushing my pain and agony away and refusing to break. If he thinks he can be mated elsewhere but still have a side chick so he doesn’t have to live with the mistake, then he can go to hell. I won’t be some dirty secret that has to steal moments with him, and share him with her, just because he didn’t manage to break our bond in taking another. I’m not doing this, no matter how much I yearn for him, or how much I still love him. I have more respect for myself than that and I won’t be one of those wolves who bring shame upon themselves by committing adultery with a mated, even if we were destined.

  He broke this, not me. He made his choice, no matter what his reasons were. It can’t be undone.

  “You’re angry, and hurt, and upset…. all valid, and I understand why. If you need time to forgive me, then I’m not going anywhere. I’m not giving up. I need you, and I’ll earn your forgiveness, no matter what it takes.” Colton back in serious, soft faced, high school, hot boy mode, and I shake it off.

  I ignore him, trying to blot out words that wound me to the core and turn to walk away, but he catches me by the wrist and stops me in my tracks. Tugging me back slightly and igniting further fury. Burning searing touch that was invented to torture me by being both the best feeling in the world, and the worst. That bubbling temper begins to dominate the pit of my stomach but before I can turn to tell him to back off, my thoughts are interrupted with a high voltage distraction.