Outcast
The Pack Prophecy
R.L. Caulder
Copyright © 2021 by R.L. Caulder
R.L. Caulder reserves all rights to and/or involving this work as the author. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people either living or dead, or events is purely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means whether electronic or mechanical, including information storage and retrieval systems, now known or hereinafter invented, without written permissions from the author, except for brief quotations in a book review.
Cover by: Luminescence Covers
To every woman who was made to believe that there was nothing special about them...this one’s for you.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Other books by R.L. Caulder
About the Author
Prologue
Chapter One
Kira
When I was abandoned by my parents and taken in by a pack of wolf shifters at the age of four, I’d never have imagined that this was where it would lead me. Hunched over on all fours, cleaning the blood-covered, rough stone floor of a prisoner cell.
At least, I thought the thick, black, tar-like substance was blood. I glanced down at where the black matter clung to my fingers and grimaced when it made a thin web as I spread them apart.
Sighing deeply from exhaustion, I wrung out my rag into the bucket of water that was now a murky grey color. I repeated the process what felt like a thousand times, until the floor was clear of the blood-slime, and ambled to my feet gingerly.
My back groaned in protest as I straightened, feeling stiff from the cold air blowing through the network of underground cells, in combination with being hunched over for so long. A dull ache thrummed through my lower back and into my tailbone, making me wince.
“I will never understand why you put up with the shit they make you do, Kira. You’re not a torture clean-up crew. You’ve been down here practically all day.”
How did he manage to always sneak up on me?
The deep rumble of Milo’s voice behind me made that ache in my back disappear, and then reappear between my legs for an entirely different reason. Him acting protective of me was quite possibly the sexiest thing I’d ever experienced. Okay, no—it definitely was.
Turning around, bucket in hand, I slammed into a stone wall of muscle, not expecting him to be that close, and the breath whooshed out of me on impact. His scent lingered, swirling around me while teasing that ache and turning into an insistent throb of need. He always managed to smell like a bonfire, the smokey wood scent making me want to curl up in his lap on a cold night—or anytime really.
Neither of us moved, both hesitant to even breathe. We had toed the line of this attraction between us for years, and I’d likely combust soon with the amount of sexual tension that sizzled between us incessantly.
Daring to tilt my chin up, I found his large blue eyes, framed by dark lashes thick enough to make any girl jealous, staring deep into my own. It always felt like we were looking past the surface in these moments. Like we could sense each other's fears, hopes, and insecurities. As if each of our deepest secrets were suddenly on display for the other to bear witness.
Willing myself to find the words to once again express why I felt it okay to be the pack’s grunt, even though he’d never accept my reasoning, I reached up with my empty hand to lay it against the dark stubble of his sharp jawline.
I’m the outcast here. The human taken in by a pack of wolves. I was just a child when I was found, close to death with hypothermia overtaking me. I didn’t have many options.
After thinking about it, I refused to give him the spiel again. He’d heard it a million times. “You know why. I’m the only human here,” I looked at him imploringly so he’d drop it.
He leaned his forehead against my own and whispered to me. The ends of his short curls tickled my skin, making me shiver.
“You still deserve better. Human or not. You are not any lesser than us, despite what they’ve made you believe.”
My heart fluttered at the sincerity in his voice, and the crack in my heart he had wormed his way into widened further, now a gaping chasm. He was one of the select few in the pack that didn’t care about my lack of supernatural powers.
He had tried to stand up for me before, speaking out against the others after a particularly horrid prank, but when the pack started to shun him, I’d pleaded with him to stop.
I wasn’t worth becoming a lone wolf over, that’s for sure.
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” I whispered back, wondering if he could hear my wildly thumping heart, given how loudly it hammered in my chest at our nearness.
Just a small tilt of my head up and I could seal our lips together, giving in to what we both so desperately wanted.
“Milo!”
The voice of the alpha’s son echoed through the Pit, annoyance clear in his tone.
Jameson. The bane of my fucking existence here.
He was sex on a stick, the next in line to lead the pack, and an all around asshole.
A soft sigh escaped Milo’s mouth as he lifted his head enough to press a featherlight kiss to my forehead before he turned to leave. With one last glance over his shoulder, a sly smirk appeared as he winked at me. With the way my heart fluttered, I knew that I was dangerously close to giving in to whatever this was between us.
A girl could only deny herself for so long. My reasons for doing so for the past few years suddenly started to fade from the forefront of my brain.
I felt drawn to the man. Who wouldn’t be, though? He stood well over six feet tall, was built like a lumberjack, and had a heart of gold.
Running a free hand over my face in frustration, I felt stickiness on my cheek and remembered that traces of the black blood still covered it. Milo had been lucky to escape being marked by the goo.
I groaned in realization that I’d have to walk back to my cottage with this smeared on me. As if I needed to give everyone more of a reason to make fun of me.
My waist-long, wavy white hair was securely fastened into a bun on the back of my head, safe from the blood at least. It was pretty much the only thing I valued about myself because it was uniquely mine. Most of the wolves here possessed darker features.
Well, besides Jameson, who somehow had identical coloring to me even though it didn’t run in his family. But I liked to ignore the dick-wad as much as possible, physically and mentally. So, I’d continue to forget that we had anything in common. Life was easier that way.
Quickly gathering the rest of my cleaning supplies, I hurried to get out of the Pit and back to my cottage. A
s I climbed the stairs and emerged onto the grassy plain of our land, I reflected back on how different it had been when I first arrived here.
The alpha had found me covered in a thin layer of snow while on a hunt in their territory. He said that he’d originally intended to just keep me with them long enough to make sure I recovered, but his mate, Maya, pleaded with him to not send me away. She’d claimed that I was abandoned and in need of them—that I was meant to find them.
She nursed me back to health single-handedly in my first year here. Being so young, I had taken to the wolves with ease, finding the animals soothing. I slowly adapted and found a love for the pack life thanks to her kindness and affection.
My heart panged at just the thought of her. Her death, only a year after I arrived, had changed the pack.
Jameson and I had gone out with her in the hundreds of acres of forest in our territory. She would often let us ride on her back in wolf form, showing us all her favorite spots, and we would have picnics in each one. Just the three of us. We had been inseparable. A family.
On that day, we had been the closest to the edge of our territory we’d ever ventured, but she’d insisted that she had a surprise for me. I had been begging her to see the small waterfall on our land when it was cold enough to freeze over ever since she’d originally told me about it.
That was the day the Daimona appeared. The demons.
They were similar in size and shape to a full-grown wolf, but they were completely black and furless. Their skin looked like melted pieces of flesh scarred together, with black spikes protruding from their backs, and eyes of fire.
The glowing orbs still haunted the corners of my mind when I slept.
Five of them had appeared, and Maya had fought like a warrior. She’d told us to run before shifting and howling for the pack. Too scared to run, Jameson and I had hidden inside a hollow log nearby, peering through the cracks in its side.
We’d held each other while sobs racked our small bodies as they massacred her before our very eyes. The auburn of her fur had quickly matted with mud and dirt as they tore into her. I’d tried to shield him from the sight, holding him tightly.
Jameson never uttered a kind word to me after that. His soft and gentle heart died with her that day.
A cold shell remained of the boy he used to be. With every day that passed, he became more and more the mirror image of his father. Someone willing to burn the world down in the name of revenge, not caring who they stepped on to achieve it.
I wish I could tell him that revenge wouldn’t heal him. It wouldn’t bring his mother back, no matter how much we all wished it would. I’d forfeit my life in a heartbeat for her to come back. She had symbolized the heart of this pack, pumping it full of laughter and joy.
Looking down at my dirty bucket of water, I felt a shiver run through me at the thought of cleaning the blood of one of the Daimona just a few minutes ago. I dumped the bucket out onto the grass beside the pebbled path, not wanting to see any remnants of the Daimona any longer after thinking of Maya.
The alpha had begun hunting these creatures when Maya died, vowing to wipe every single one of them from this world. We’d built the Pit, fitting each cell with the means to hold and interrogate them in order to discover their origins.
Over time we’d slowly discovered that there were some Daimona that possessed a higher level of thought—while most just made guttural noises, a select few could speak telepathically. However, all we’d manage to find out is that they answered to a ruler they called Master. Not very helpful in the slightest.
We didn’t know where they came from or why they were hunting shifters, despite the torture tactics.
And I had turned into the solo clean-up crew for the aftermath of these sessions.
The alpha tried to go after them as they carried her body off as two betas brought us back to the safety of our home, but he was unsuccessful in getting her body back. Upon his return, he made sure that the pack knew that it was my fault she had been out there that day, placing the blame of her death on a child's shoulders.
The pack shunned me and forced me into doing all the menial tasks the pack needed done. They’d treated me as their human maid, the elders only watching over me with the bare minimum of energy and resources until they deemed me old enough to fend for myself within the pack.
It had been that way for the past sixteen years.
Glancing around, I furrowed my brows as I noted how peculiar it was to pass no one on my way home.
Wait. Today is the day. How could I forget?
It was the coming of age ceremony. They were probably all gathered together, discussing the shift that would come as the full moon reached its apex for all the wolves born—coincidentally enough—in the same year I was. For everyone turning twenty-one this year.
The rite of passage.
This was a huge milestone that everyone in the pack looked forward to their entire lives: the moment their wolf emerged from their soul and bonded with them as one. Their first shift.
For everyone but me.
A wistful sigh escaped my lips as I struggled with thoughts of wanting more out of my life. I took in the cottages and surrounding forest, breathing in the comforting scent of the pine trees. This was home, but Milo was right. I did deserve more than this servitude. But what could I do about it? Run?
We lived several hours from the closest human town, and I had no means of getting there. The pack would hunt me down before I even made it to the edge of our territory.
My gloomy thoughts followed me as I approached my small cottage and pushed open the door. I deposited the bucket and towels in the far corner where I stored my cleaning supplies and decided to shower and get this blood off of me immediately. Everything else could wait.
I stripped out of my blood-smeared leggings and cotton shirt, dropping them into my bin for washing, and threw on a red robe. It should be a safe option with everyone gone.
I’d head to the showers while everyone was preoccupied so I could clean myself without fear of humiliation or attacks from any of the other women my age. They treated me the worst out of anyone else in the pack. The reasoning behind it was beyond me. I had nothing for them to be jealous of.
The older ones ignored me like a passing gnat, not even worth their acknowledgement, while the middle-aged women sneered at me but held their tongues.
I’d had my fair share of clothes stolen while I showered in an attempt to humiliate me as I ran to my cottage naked. They’d crushed herbs into my soap to give me rashes. You name it and it’d probably happened to me at some point.
I’d learned the best way to avoid the wrath of Sofia, the ringleader of all the bullies, was to complete my list of chores at certain times while they were in classes. Learning her schedule had been a game changer.
I couldn’t help but wonder if Sofia wasn’t here, would I fit in? Would I have friends?
She loved to parade around and say she would be Jameson’s fated mate, ruling the pack at his side.
Honestly, it made me laugh that she was so obsessed with him because Jameson showed zero interest in her, or anyone else for that matter. Well—aside from the attention he paid me in his efforts to make my life hell whenever he could.
She knew that though, and thus the reason for the big, red fucking target on my back. Apparently, she’d prefer to receive the wrath he bestowed upon me rather than the cold shoulder treatment she always got.
I’d trade with her anyday. If only it were that simple.
Opening the door of my cottage with my shower bag in hand, filled with soaps, a few pieces of makeup, and my fresh clothes packed in it, I stumbled to an abrupt stop, greeted by the sight of Jameson’s best friend, Seth.
He peered down at me, his amusement at my disheveled state clear from the smug smirk on his face.
“Rough day?”
I couldn’t contain the snide comment that flew from my lips in response. “Like you give a shit, Seth.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck
. Why did I say that? I hadn't talked back to a shifter in years, once I realized it made it easier for me to disappear from their minds if I stayed subservient.
For a brief moment, early on in my time with the pack, I’d thought that we could be friends with the brief looks of intrigue he sent my way, but he had made his loyalty to Jameson perfectly clear over the years.
Instead of the wrath that I expected to receive, that same intrigue that I hadn’t seen in years, flared in his eyes. His eyes had always fascinated me, as they were such a deep blue that they appeared almost purple in hue.
Not that I spent a ton of time staring at them or anything.
“So, our Kitten has claws after all,” he mused, a dark, slender brow raised at me, and his lips still firmly tugged into that infuriating smirk.
I felt my back straighten at having stuck up for myself for the first time in my life without getting smacked down for it. Maybe it was time for me to demand more for myself and my life here.
Narrowing my eyes at him, I let this unknown strength pour out of my soul to fill me and imbue my words. “You have no idea.”
I’d decided. Things were going to change.
Chapter Two
Kira
His large hand came up to grip my chin tightly between his fingers as he tilted it up. Gazing into his eyes, I felt an involuntary gasp escape at what I saw reflected in his gaze.
Desire. Intrigue. Confusion.
Outcast: A Paranormal Shifter Romance (The Pack Prophecy Book 1) Page 1
