“Her.”
“You can’t have that.”
They lunged at each other. Father’s jaws nearly nicked Jez’s side, and Jez’s heart leapt in response. Once their bodies smashed against each other, second thoughts hit Jez’s mind. He couldn’t beat the alpha. Father was the most terrifying beast known amongst wolf shifters. Jez had far less experience. Years of warfare and hardship had trained Father to be cold-hearted and a seasoned fighter.
A sharp pain slashed across Jez’s side. His nostrils picked up the scent of metallic blood.
“Jez!” Dahlia called.
He was too preoccupied with facing Father to pay much attention to her, but just hearing her was enough motivation. Strength and resolve shot up his chest, and he used it to get back up the second time Father knocked him down. Warm blood trickled down and matted the fur around his hind legs. Wherever he went, he left behind a trail of blood. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, blocking out the giddiness.
“Give up,” Father said. “There’s still too much for you to learn. I care for you, little wolf. Don’t make me do this.” In their struggle, Jez had fallen to the ground. Father’s sharp canines were bared, protruding from the glistening black of his gums.
Jez thrashed his head upward, knocking Father aside and distracting him. He rolled to his left, slipping from the wolf’s paws. Somewhere in the action, he’d forgotten his discipline and let Father get the better of him. In his mind, he replayed the lessons his tutors had given him. If he could follow them…
No.
Relying on those lessons was cowardice. Jez had the experience. He’d been fighting the worst of shifter criminals for years now, while Caspian had been lazing about and giving orders.
Jez sucked in a deep breath. He let his mind clear and allowed his limbs to move on instinct alone. He had to trust in his own abilities.
“What are you thinking?” Father asked, eyes narrowed.
Dahlia was Jez’s driving force.
He was a different being in the same body. He moved swiftly and nimbly across the short space of the alleyway. He ran across the wall and dug his fangs into Father’s back—a trick he’d learned from Dahlia when they were children. He didn’t have Father’s bite, but at least Jez had managed to injure his opponent.
“You overstep, boy!” Jez could almost taste Father’s rage.
Dahlia’s cheering was drowned out by that of the other foxes. They understood that if Jez won, they’d be freed. The wolves were not allowed to interfere in the challenge. Half the clan didn’t approve of Jez. They saw him as weak. But if he defeated Father, they wouldn’t have anything to say.
Jez rested his paw on his father’s chest. Half of Father’s face was marred with wounds. But as a wolf shifter, healing would come easily.
Jez growled. “Surrend—”
Something knocked Jez aside. The back of his skull thwacked against the cement wall. Blinking his eyes open, he saw Loki protecting their alpha.
Jez smiled.
He never thought he’d smile when looking at the slimy bastard, but the rules were that the side that had help would forfeit.
“I’m the new alpha,” Jez said.
“Not if you’re dead,” Loki said with a low hiss.
Jez stilled. This wasn’t allowed. The rules were clear. He looked to his fellow clan members, imploring them to step in. But he saw them staring at the foxes instead. They didn’t seem eager to stop the fight at all.
Father stood and prowled toward Jez. “I wanted to love you.”
“You never did,” Jez replied. “You’d kill your own son for the sake of more murder. After Mother left, the only space you had in your heart was for death.”
The truth hurt, and Father did a terrible job of hiding it. He opened his jaw, revealing his deadly fangs.
Giving in, Jez shut his eyes. In the end, he wasn’t strong enough to protect Dahlia. He had to die with that regret.
Thud.
The sound made him blink his eyes open again. Before him was a dagger protruding from Father’s skull. The copper wolf lay in a puddle of his own blood, as still as a fallen tree. Loki’s jaw hung open.
Dahlia was standing sassily in front of the foxes. She twirled another dagger with her left hand. “I supposed that since they cheated, we could, too.” She winked. “Jez is already alpha, right?”
Jez sighed relief. It was just like Dahlia to pull him out of a sticky situation.
She spun on her heel, facing the rest of the wolves. “Which means you’ll have to listen to everything he says. Clan integrity and all that?”
Time seemed to halt. The wolves hadn’t respected their own laws earlier. Other than this code between them, there was nothing to prevent them from overthrowing Jez.
But the wolves always ultimately followed clan law. Did they truly hate the foxes this much? Enough to go against everything they stood for?
One by one, his clan members fell to their knees.
“Alpha,” Loki muttered. He bent at the hip and made a sweeping gesture with his hand.
“On your knees,” Jez said.
Loki’s stare lingered. The seconds that went by felt like an eternity before Loki lowered himself to the ground. He rested his elbow on his lap and placed his other hand to his heart.
Jez called back to his human form. Dahlia waited for him, wearing her cheeky grin and her ever-teasing expression.
“Finally,” he muttered. He cared not that his body was grimy with blood, and Dahlia didn’t seem to mind either.
“Took you long enough,” Dahlia said, grinning.
“Sorry,” Jez said. “My memory keeps failing me.”
Chapter 8
Jez watched the sun dip beneath the horizon. The sea breeze had lost its hint of saltiness and gained a twinge of sweetness. Even the birds today looked chubbier, rounder, cuter. He was entirely sure that the view of his surroundings could be attributed to his better mood. For the first time in decades, there was peace between the foxes and wolves.
Jez sat at the pier. The tide was high and reached his ankles. Jez flicked his feet up. The water between his toes tickled slightly.
Dahlia sat next to him. She was barefoot too. She leaned on his shoulder and breathed out a satisfied sigh.
“There’s always so much fighting around these areas,” Dahlia said. “People don’t notice how pretty it can get.”
The sunlight cast a pattern of pink and oranges over the rippling waters. The seagulls fought over a scrap of food they’d found. The little struggles of life often completed scenic beauty.
Jez didn’t need the view of the oceans, or to look at the clouds across the sky. He had Dahlia. He gazed upon her peach-colored cheeks and smiled. He couldn’t stop smiling around her. He did it so much that his cheeks hurt.
“So, what’s the story behind me getting this?” Jez asked. He pulled the hairpin out of his pocket. Together with wanting Dahlia as a child, he’d wanted the hairpin. She’d never let him have it before.
“How does it feel?” she said. “Finally holding the hairpin. You kept bugging me about it when we were younger.”
Jez slid his fingers across the cool metal. “Honestly, I kind of expected more. Feels an awful lot like a simple accessory.”
Dahlia snorted. “That’s what it is. What else did you want from it?”
“I don’t know. You kept going on about how it was important and grand and amazing. How it was only meant for special people like you. So, I thought you’d get powers or some shit from it.”
“Powers?” Dahlia laughed. “No. It’s only meant as a mark of the Slymoor family. That’s all. Nothing special.”
“I’m disappointed.”
“Suck it up.” She kicked. A splash of water hit Jez’s calf. He thought she was sitting too far away from him, so he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and drew her in, keeping her flush against his body. Her frame was so much smaller than his. He liked how her flesh pressed against him. He rubbed his hand up and down her arm. She
softly sighed. He doubted that she even realized that she was making that delicate noise.
“You still haven’t told me what happened with this,” Jez said.
“I gave it to you.”
“Did you?” Jez asked. He circled his hand around her thigh, and she didn’t seem to mind. Fifteen years and he still hadn’t kissed her yet. Her lips were nice and full. He stared at them for what felt like too long before meeting her liquid gaze.
“You were on your own last night, heading back after trying out the moon tonic. It’s been a while since the foxes came to Mawville. I missed this place.”
“Not much to look at except for seagulls and old ships. It always smells like fish, which I don’t assume is pleasing with a fox’s sense of smell. I can’t imagine anyone truly missing this place.”
“Really, I did,” she said, swirling her legs around. The waters seemed to be subsiding. Jez admired the color of her toenails, which she’d painted a pretty orange. It was a strange thing to take notice of, but this was Dahlia next to him, and he wouldn’t mind spending hours studying every inch of her. “Even if it was really you I longed to see.”
Her eyes glittered when she smiled at him. He could get lost in those blues forever.
“I can’t remember a thing,” Jez said.
“Well, doesn’t that just sum you up?”
The sun was forming a thin line over the horizon, and the seagulls had quieted, deciding to disperse for the night. “I’m sorry I forced you out of my mind. It was easier.”
“I always wanted to come back.”
“I’m sorry,” Jez repeated.
“You’re here now,” Dahlia said, resting her head on his shoulder. He was suddenly aware of how close she was. She smelled like a spicy mix of cinnamon and flowers, nice enough to make Jez want to bottle the scent up and keep it for himself.
“Because you came to find me.”
“I did.” Her grin spread. “Took me long enough. And lo and behold, my first meeting with you was with you high on moon tonic. You were losing against those ruffians, too. Wouldn’t have made it without me saving you.”
“You saved me?”
“As usual.” She laughed. “It’s the thing I’m best at.”
“Of course,” Jez said with a snort. “Then what happened?”
“You couldn’t remember me, but I wanted you to. So, I took you to the docks and gave you the hairpin, hoping it’d trigger your memory.”
“And it worked.”
“It did. But I knew you were still under the influence of the moon tonic. You were… intoxicated, distraught, and afraid you might hurt me. So you ran away. I didn’t follow.”
“Might be why I fought a tree, then,” Jez said. “To let off some steam?”
Dahlia covered her mouth with her hand. Her laughter sounded prim despite her hard exterior. Jez had seen the softer parts of her as a child. He wanted to peel those layers off again. There was still so much of Dahlia left to explore.
“And that was our first meeting after fifteen years. Wasn’t what I expected.”
“Why are you back?” Jez asked.
“Mother died.”
Jez thought he should be more surprised or concerned with that information. At the very least, he should show a hint of grief. But he’d never met Dahlia’s mother before. Should he at least act empathetic?
Dahlia stared up at him. “You don’t need to pretend to be sorry.”
Jez placed a hand on his chest. “Thank goodness. I was having a serious internal debate about how to react there.”
“I think I loved her,” Dahlia said, lifting her head up to the pinkish sky. “I think in her own twisted way, she felt for me too. It wasn’t right between us, though. She kept me away from Mawville. Away from you.”
“Wait… if she’s dead, that means…”
“I’m leading the Slymoors now, like how you’re the alpha of the Diremeres.”
“No one to tell us what to do. Who to love.”
She beamed.
Jez was too stunned to smile back. Inside, a well of happiness bubbled. “So if we’re mates…”
“There won’t be anyone to tell us no.”
Jez felt like a heavy burden had been lifted off his shoulders. His father had passed, but Jez had been living under so much authority and fear that it had never occurred to relax until now.
“There’s something I’d always wanted to do,” Jez said.
“Hm?”
He lifted the hairpin, his chest pounding with excitement, and raised it to Dahlia’s ear. “The reason why I wanted this from you all this time was so that I could put it on you.”
Dahlia lifted a brow. “Really? Isn’t that a roundabout way of doing things?”
“Maybe I just wanted to get close.” He leaned in, resting his arm on her shoulder. Time stilled, and so did his pulse. He heard her breathing speed up. It wasn’t like Dahlia to get agitated, and he reveled in the fact that he could do that to her.
Her lips were so close…
But what if they weren’t actually mates?
It seemed like such a certainty until now, when everything had to be tested.
“You nervous?” he asked.
“Why would I be?” She rested her hands at his waist. Even if she tried to act tough, he could feel the racing of her heart.
He leaned forward and captured Dahlia in a kiss. At the same time, he tucked the hairpin into her hair.
Jez had heard stories about how mate bonds formed. Some described it as fireworks, seeing sparks fly—others characterized it as a sense of overwhelming, uncontrollable need.
Jez didn’t get any of that.
As Dahlia’s soft lips locked on his, all he experienced was an unmistakable sense of rightness.
“I love you,” Jez said, pulling back. He would do anything to protect, love, care for this woman.
She turned away from him and continued splashing her feet in the water.
“You’re not saying it back,” Jez added with a frown.
She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Is your memory failing you again? I think it’s kind of obvious.”
She leaned against his shoulder, and Jez thought that nothing else in this world could be more blissful than this moment.
About Clara Hartley
Clara Hartley's work schedule is not unsimilar to a vampire's. Artist by day, writer by night, she tries to scramble whatever time she can to jot down her stories. Because that isn't enough to whittle away her creative energies, she likes to spend her free time doodling her characters, or painting worlds. If her brain is too fried, she'll take a breather, and sit down with a good book. She isn't the best at keeping relationships--fictional ones, anyway, and has a multitude of book boyfriends who she can't seem to decide on.
You can find her here:
Website: https://clarahartley.com
Love Potion: A Valentine's Day Charity Anthology Page 46
