by E Hall
I pause on the path.
My Alpha wolf senses tell me that something is wrong.
The Headquarters in Polaris is secure. The pack sees to that.
The trouble isn’t here, but it’s coming.
I close my eyes, to better detect where and what raised my inner alarm.
There’s a disturbance.
A promise has been broken.
The greatest danger we’ve ever known stirs.
The energy of Magical’s Most Wanted is rising.
I lose my clothing as my bones morph, my skin stretches, fur appears, and I shift into my wolf, prepared to hunt her and eliminate the threat.
As I streak across the vast property, forceful energy presses against me, urging me to stop. My wolf snarls, pawing the ground. I survey, sensing. It’s not another wolf. I sniff the air.
A witch with silver-white hair and matching eyes appears out of nowhere. She wears a red robe and cloak.
I blink a few times. I’m well-versed in their abilities and didn’t know they could materialize out of thin air.
“I’m Tatiana, and I bring a message for you.”
I don’t sense her as a threat and wonder if it has something to do with the disturbance I just felt. Then again, I put little weight in the foolishness of witchery. They’re like wannabe fae, which is no way to want to be. At least not the fae I’ve heard stories about. As a rule, wolves don’t associate with fae. They count us as their biggest enemy in the magical world, but the truth is we want nothing to do with them.
I shift back into my human form. Thankfully, another wolf left a pair of sweat pants under a nearby tree. I hurriedly pull them on.
Nonplussed, Tatiana pulls out a rolled-up scroll tied with a pink ribbon.
“How did you get past the barriers surrounding my land?” I ask sharply.
“An energy greater than any I possess guided me here.”
I force myself not to roll my eyes. “Listen, Tatiana, I have something important to do and don’t have time for—”
“Yes, I know. I’ve seen it.” She nods regally.
“Oh, you’re a witch and a seer? Great.”
“Don’t dismiss that which you don’t understand, Alpha.” Her voice is airy and already annoying.
I grumble.
“Read the message, please,” she says.
At least she has manners. Although the magical world is at peace, there is unrest, and there’s no telling what a witch might do to ensnare a wolf’s senses since we’re the bigger threat. Perhaps the paper is poisoned or the message will jinx me.
I grunt. “Why don’t you give me the condensed version.”
She shakes her head. “I wrote down my vision as soon as I had it. In case I wasn’t able to meet with you in person, I brought it with me. As fate would have it, we met right here. Right now you stand on the precipice of your future. I am not here to cause you distress.” Her face is open, placid.
I huff, snag the scroll, and open it. The faster I get this over with and get her off my land, the better.
“Blah, blah, blah. Fated mate. Blah, blah, blah. Heartmatch.” I wrinkle it up and toss it on the ground.
Her eyes flash. “You dismiss your fate so quickly. That will be your downfall, Alpha.” Did she emphasize Alpha or was I imagining that? However, I can’t ask her because she disappeared.
I shake my head once, twice, and then hurry to the lodge. That was a waste of time, but at least it gave me a minute to rethink my plan. My wolf practically rushed off the land without alerting the rest of the pack. At least the witch slowed me down long enough to think about what to do about Magical’s Most Wanted.
My determination to do my duty in adherence to the Accords isn’t dimmed by the letter Tatiana gave me, but it doesn’t leave my mind either.
Chapter 3
Kenna
As Matt drops to the ground, my mother closes her mouth.
I blink. For a second it looked like her teeth were strangely sharp—like a vampire’s fangs in movies. I shake it off because of far greater concern is what I just did. I look around, wondering if I was somehow electrocuted and by some freak accident transferred the shock to Matt from across the room.
My mother drops down next to him and hovers her hands over his face. “He’ll wake up in a few hours, and we’ll need to be out of here.” She moves quickly, filling her arms with our belongings.
My skin still hums with that strange assault of energy, but inside I’m quaking. “You weren’t kidding about moving.” This adds to my already overflowing sense of uncertainty.
She shakes her head and then looks at me. Like, really looks at me with a long and hard and concerned stare. Her gaze drops to my hands, hanging limply by my sides.
I flex my fingers a few times. My skin is still warm but cooling quickly. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.”
“You don’t need to apologize, Kenna.” My mother steps over Matt, picking up his things, practically shaking with fury. Or maybe it’s just my vision that’s vibrating.
I’m awash with confusion.
Her arms are nearly full. “I knew I needed to make changes in our lives. Go back or—”
I’m not listening because what I know is that change means moving, finding a new job, friends, and the ever-present unknown of my future...and the fact that I somehow, without touching him, knocked a guy out.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—” I start because I feel terrible. “I didn’t mean to hurt him. Not really.”
“It’s okay. He was threatening me. You acted on instinct.”
I wrinkle my nose. “What kind of instinct?” Because whatever happened was not normal.
The restlessness within is like winds blowing, whirling, and whipping up a gale. Matt hadn’t closed the door when he came up and it slams now, shaking on its hinges.
The energy inside of me hums all over again.
Did I do that?
Matt is still unconscious.
My mother startles and her eyebrows lift as her gaze lands on me again. “Your birthday is coming up.”
I nod. Why is she thinking about that when we have an unconscious man on our living room floor? Thankfully, Mr. Fletcher downstairs is away on a business trip.
Then I realize. I’ll be eighteen and technically no longer her responsibility. It’s like a splinter drives its way into my chest. We’re going to say goodbye. We’re moving, and she’s moving on.
This is another last time.
My mom takes a deep breath.
The air leaves me. My throat tightens. I can hardly breathe. Dots line my vision.
In several long strides, she marches to her room and returns with an envelope. “Your father would be proud.”
“Like he’s in Heaven, looking down on us because I knocked out that jerk?” I ask.
Her eyes widen. “Just avoid men, Kenna. Well, except this man.” She gives me an envelope.
I tuck my thumb under the fold and open it.
With splayed fingers, she waves her hands, halting me. “No, not yet. You’ll open it later.”
She lowers to the couch and pulls me alongside her, taking my hands. “I wish I could have been a little less wrapped up in myself. That’s not in my nature and believe me, I’ve had to fight hard to be the mother I’ve been.”
“What do you mean? You’re amazing.”
“We both know that I’m not the cookies and milk kind of mom.”
“No, you’re the wake me up after your shift at the hospital to watch the sunrise and then bring me for doughnuts kind of mom.” One of the main reasons I love doughnuts—they remind me of those special times we’ve shared.
“I’m impulsive, selfish at times, flighty. Most of the guys I’ve dated suggest that I’m unstable. Par for the course.” She snorts a laugh. “I wish I could have been the mother to encourage you to follow your dreams. Instead, I’ll tell you to follow your destiny.”
Tension tangles itself up by my shoulders. “Why does this feel like a goodbye?”
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My mother gazes into my eyes and grips my hands between us. “You are so beautiful, a natural beauty. You’re unique and special...”
“Um, I have a crooked canine tooth, even though I had braces. I’m only now getting curves, and before that, I was scrawny. I have weird allergies and—”
“And it all makes you who you are... and who you’re meant to be.”
“A nurse like you?” The words come out slightly sharper than I mean because it’s not what I want for myself. However, I know as much about what I actually want as I do how I blasted some kind of current from my body and into my mom’s ex-boyfriend.
“I’m sorry.” The words drop from my trembling lips as tears threaten.
“No, I’m sorry,” she says.
I point to Matt. “Is he going to be okay?”
She nods. “He’ll forget this ever happened, and that he cheated and that he’s a jerk.”
“Do you mean that he’ll have amnesia?”
“Something like that.”
“Should we call the police?” I ask.
She waves her arms. “No, no. Do not do that. If we don’t act fast, far worse than the police will be after us.”
My hands cup around my nose and mouth. “Mom, I didn’t mean—” I don’t know how to make sense of what happened. “What did I do?”
Like the questions I’ve asked about my father, she remains tight-lipped.
“Mom, please believe me. Truly. I didn’t mean it.”
“Of course not. You didn’t know. Heck, I didn’t know. I mean that I’m sorry that I couldn’t tell you.”
“Tell me what? Wait. How do you know he’ll have amnesia? Mom, please tell me what I did. What am I?” The questions come rapid fire.
“That’s just it. I don’t know. I mean, I know that powerful magic like that can knock someone out, and if they’re human, it wipes their mind clean of the experience and usually everything that happened in the few days previous.”
I lean back. “Slow down. What are you talking about? Magic?” Then I smile. “Hold on. You’re joking with me. This is some kind of elaborate graduation hoax. Mom, you know the seniors are supposed to pull pranks. And if you’re mad at me for participating in the thing on the football field with the lawnmowers, our class donation was for artificial turf, so no harm done, really.”
My mother taps the envelope that I still grip in my other hand. “It’ll all become clear when you open this.”
I start to do so.
She closes her hands around mine. “No, you have to wait.”
I toss my hands up in the air, jerking loose. “That’s just it. Lately, I feel like all I’ve been doing is waiting. Waiting to graduate, and now I’m not so sure. Waiting for something monumental to happen, yet I live a quiet life. Waiting, well, for something. I don’t know what.”
“That’s expected as you near the synthesis. Your magic slipped out, which means you need to get back as soon as possible, otherwise we’re all in danger.”
I toss my mother a bonkers look. “Did I hit you with that electrical surge too? You’re not making sense.”
“I literally can’t explain. The laws of the treaty bind my tongue, and the agreement I made when I learned I was pregnant with you. But you’ll soon understand. Now, I have to get your plane ticket sorted out and we have to pack up.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’re going to Concordia. Not me. We’ve been in hiding.”
I shake my head slowly. “Concordi-what? Hiding?”
“It’s where you belong. Go pack a bag. Travel light. Only take the necessities.”
I step slowly toward my room and to the giant world map I have tacked to the wall. I’ve never heard of that place. My mom works a lot—late nights at the hospital as a registered nurse. Maybe she’s experiencing exhaustion or a breakdown.
Maybe I am.
I stand in my bedroom for five long minutes, trying to figure out where to start. What to do. I always dreamed of traveling. Seeing the world. My parents met while doing just that. That’s all I know except that they loved each other dearly.
Apart from everything that had just happened, I’ve always prided myself on being logical, resourceful. I never do anything without planning it out first, which is the opposite of my mom who is spontaneous and yes, at times, impetuous.
As I gaze at the map, I wonder what happened to my father. Did they have an epic blowout like what just happened with Matt? Did my mom blast him? Or was it so bad she won’t talk about it or like she said, can’t talk about it?
My mind brakes sharply on what she said about my magic slipping out and how if I don’t get back, we’ll all be in danger.
I always felt different. I stare at my hands. They look the same as they always have. Slender but capable. I can play the piano, write stories longhand or diary entries without getting a cramp, and throw a mean softball.
My eyes land on a small island nestled north of Scotland and sort of between Iceland and Norway. Concordia.
I have a sudden lurch inside. A pull. A desire so strong I want nothing more than to go there, explore the country.
My mom said I have to go there. Why?
I already did a big thing today. Two, if I count knocking Matt unconscious before he attacked my mom. Could I do a third thing? Could I travel across the world, leaving life in our small New Hampshire town? Leaving my mom since she said she couldn’t go there.
I’ve always been curious and usually find answers. While this odd situation prompts my curiosity, it’s also scary. Could I go to this foreign place? Maybe find my roots? Perhaps myself?
Shuffling comes from the other room. Probably my mom moving Matt or packing up some things.
I should do the same. I call, “How many outfits should I pack?” Then I recall her saying to pack light. I set several outfits on my bed, refolding everything so it fits into my largest backpack. I also take my diary, a few books, toiletries, and my phone.
Because we’ve lived on my mom’s single income and I’ve saved every penny from my job for college or whatever, we don’t have tons of stuff. Over the years, it’s also made moving from place to place pretty easy, especially since we rent already furnished apartments.
I take the photos off my corkboard and tuck them in my diary then stuff it in my bag. Sadness pricks the corners of my eyes at the same time my spine tingles and the hair on the back of my neck lifts.
I shoulder my backpack, ready to help my mom with the rest of the house. “What do you want me to do with my sheets and everything else?”
She doesn’t respond.
The laptop we share is open and glowing from the kitchen table. My phone pings in my hand with an email notification. I pull it up. A one-way plane ticket to Glasgow, Scotland, leaving tonight. It pings again with a train ticket from Scotland to a place called Intherness, Concordia.
“Mom?” I call, checking her room.
The apartment is quiet.
From the floor, Matt groans.
I quickly check the kitchen and the bathroom but my mom isn’t here.
My phone pings a third time. It’s an email from my mom.
I transferred money to your account to cover travel. When you get to Intherness, open the letter I gave you. Go! Now! I love you.
That’s it.
The glow of the laptop draws me over. I expect her email account to be open and the airline website in another. Instead, it was wiped clean, and the chair is toppled over.
As I make my way to the door, deep scratches about the size and width of my mother’s hand mark the floral wallpaper, ending at the doorframe that leads to the hallway and then outside. A chill feathers across my skin. Once more, the fine hair on the back of my neck lifts.
I swallow hard and open the door, not sure what to expect on the other side.
The window is smashed and the welcome mat is askew. It looks like there was a struggle. Did someone kidnap her?
My stomach lurches and churns.
My finger is on the button to call the police, but I hesitate.
From behind me, Matt moans again.
My mother said not to call the police. Her email said Go! Now!
I was never really a rebel. It was always just her and me. She also wasn’t the kind of mom to tell me what to do and let me figure things out.
But this time she told me to Go! Now!
So I do.
Chapter 4
Corbin
My betas are already in the den. I lower into my chair at the head of the table. Sure, we sit around the campfire and tell stories and tease each other, but right now it’s all business. I take command.
My betas, Baker, Trigg, and Claude along with their girlfriends, Avril, Inga, and Camilla—betas too—all wait for me to open the meeting. They’re not sealed mates, rather partners who also happen to be top wolves in the pack.
In many ways, it’s convenient for me from an organization standpoint. In other ways, the unspoken pressure for me to find a mate of my own is there—however, as Alpha, I am bound to find my fated mate. Any female wolf won’t do. My heart speaks and will know when it finds its match. I can’t deny it. But I’m not interested because it means, together, we’ll have to prove our status or I lose my position. I already fought my way to the top. I don’t want to battle again if I don’t have to.
“Brief me,” I say to Baker.
“At thirteen hundred hours there was a disturbance in a small New Hampshire town—that’s a state in the US,” he says to the others, knowing some of our number may not be on top of global geography as I am.
“I felt it in my bones. That’s why I called this meeting. What else?” I drum my fingers on the table.
Baker projects an image onto the wall. “I obtained these from satellite files. Looks like an American teen bit off a little more than she can chew.”
I level him with a glare. He knows my sense of humor doesn’t include wolf puns.
Trigg stifles a laugh. “Did she tear off someone’s head?”
“Not yet,” Baker says.
“What exactly do you mean by disturbance?” Camilla asks.
“I heard from my sources that she had an altercation with a human male. He may have been threatening her. It’s unclear.”
