by E Hall
Camilla with the caramel-colored hair gives me a little wave. Both her and Inga seem to be the only normal ones among the bunch.
“Oh, and you met Corbin,” Inga says with a slight depth to her tone. Whether it’s because he’s in charge or for some other reason, I’m not sure. Maybe it’s because of his handsome face. No, scratch that. She’s obviously with Claude by the way they keep looking at each other with heart eyes.
“It’s nice to meet all of you, but I should be on my way.” I sling my legs toward the side of the bed.
Corbin lifts a large hand and halts me with his gaze. What is with him? But it’s like I can’t resist even though I strain to.
“Nice try.” He snorts.
Inga lifts an eyebrow. “I call a meeting.”
“I agree,” Camilla echoes.
Claude and Baker both nod in agreement.
Trigg huffs.
“Fine,” Avril says.
“We’ll meet in the den,” Corbin says in a commanding tone.
“Okay. You do that. I’ll be getting out of your hair or fur or whatever,” I mutter.
However, Corbin’s eyes capture mine, and I’m asleep again.
When I wake up, the slightest smell of sulfur wafts through the air. I shift uncomfortably and then press to sitting.
“So you’re what the big fuss is all about, huh?” A woman with inky hair streaked with purple stands by the door in the room.
I startle. “Yeah. Big fuss over here. I’m just going to grab my phone and call my mom.” Whether she answers is another story. Was she abducted too? Maybe she’s here. Hope swells inside.
“This?” She gives my cell with its unicorn case a little shake. “It’s dead. Tell me about your mom.”
This chick has weird vibes. Bristly, threatening, but also the faint smell in the air is gross, which is distracting. “Oh, uh. She sent me on this disaster of a trip, but other than that she’s cool. Flaky at times but really great. She makes killer lasagna, is an amazing nurse, and has saved people’s lives, which is admirable. Oh, and she knows kung fu so don’t mess with her.” I want to add or me even though I only know the basics. I went to classes with her a few times. She said I was a natural, but I had more fun with softball.
The girl clicks her tongue, appraising me. Guarding me?
I get to my feet. My head throbs, and the room spins slightly. “I’m going to plug this in, charge it, and then get out of here.” I move to pluck the phone from her hand, but she snaps it in half.
Red fills my vision. Prickles dot the back of my spine. My fists clench.
She stares me down, but I don’t back down.
Instead, the door flies open. Corbin barks, “Amanda, submit.”
She makes a whining sound and lowers into the nearest chair.
“Kenna, submit,” Corbin orders to me.
I tuck my head back. “Uh, no. You may be bigger than me, but Amanda, is it? She just broke my phone in half. Listen, I really am leaving even if I have to plow through you. Goodbye, weirdos.” I grab my backpack and march toward the door.
The guy is like a human wall, but we square off.
The red behind my eyes dissipates, and a pressing sensation like I’m about to explode rises from deep inside. I grit my teeth. “Please, step aside and let me pass.”
Corbin doesn’t move a muscle, but something in him softens ever so slightly. Or maybe it’s curiosity. I’m not a sideshow, dude. I can’t explain how I know this. Sixth sense?
Drawing my hands into fists, I bear down as the pressure inside me increases. My skin tightens, and it’s like something is trying to claw its way out of me. This must be the height of anger, fatigue, and hunger.
“Kenna, please come with me,” Corbin says. “We have to talk.”
“That’s more like it.” This time, I soften. The tension inside disappears, leaving a strange fluttering in my chest.
The sun must set relatively early this far north because the windows of the room form patches of light on the hardwood floor. It stretches toward him, illuminating his copper eyes, threaded with the same color highlighting his otherwise dark hair. His nose is smooth, and he has a slight shadow of stubble along his strong jaw.
His gaze holds mine, but unlike before when he lulled me to sleep, it’s almost as if he’s looking at me, into my depths. I feel at once vulnerable and strong because I have nothing to hide.
I swallow thickly, entranced by this massive man. Everything I was ever taught tells me to fear him, but there’s a deeper instinct that stirs as though awakening. It spreads outward and through my body warming me. There’s no way I can be attracted to this brute. No way.
I shake myself from the stupor. “I need something to eat,” I say at almost a whisper.
The girl with purple hair clears her throat. I’d forgotten she was in the room.
“You may leave, Amanda,” Corbin says without looking at her.
She brushes past us, leaving me with a gust of that noxious odor.
Corbin tilts his head in my direction.
“You’re used to getting your way, huh?” I ask, unable to resist the urge to check his macho attitude.
“Comes with being Alpha.” His voice is a gravely growl that sends shivers over my skin. But they don’t make me cold. Rather, the opposite.
“The only Alpha I answer to is alphabet soup.”
His brow furrows.
“It’s a joke, doofus. I told you, I’m hungry. I’m getting punchy. No, actually, I’m well past that. I think I’m imagining things.” A laugh escapes. “You all think you’re wolves or something.”
“Not or something.”
“Yeah. Okay. Do you have a phone? I have to call my mother.”
He nods. “That’s a great idea.”
“Finally, you’re making sense.”
Corbin places his firm hand on my low back, guiding me out of the room. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that it sends a warming jolt through me. Maybe I’m putty in his hands after all.
Chapter 8
Corbin
As I lead Kenna down the hallway to the den, the collar of my shirt feels too tight, which is weird because I’m wearing a slate-gray T-shirt.
Although I’m the Alpha wolf and a Council member, if my betas vote for a meeting, we have to hear each other. That’s how pack life works.
Inga, Claude, and Camilla felt strongly that Kenna could help us determine where her father is, or find out his location from her mother. It’s common knowledge that Greyson Slade has had rebellious tendencies in the past, and there’s a good chance he’s behind the Klave’s activities.
My betas said we should work with her and not against her because she could be the key to getting close to him. This goes against my better judgment. Then again, my wolf sided with the pack.
I’ve never been this conflicted.
Or perhaps I’m hungry too.
Baker made a good point that she might be able to lead us to the Klave.
I brought the entire situation to the pack elders—the former Alphas—Octavius and Olive. They were their usual grumpy and friendly selves, respectively.
The pair reliably offer two sides of a story, balancing each other. But they agree on one thing. They think I should give Kenna a chance and not see her as a weapon but as an ally. If she proves dangerous, then I can do the dirty work of destroying her. The whole innocent until proven guilty thing.
Olive urged me to listen to my heart. Octavius told me to listen to my wolf.
Same thing.
Then they beamed a smile at each other because maybe that was their way of agreeing? Go figure. Even after hundreds of years as mates, they’re still obnoxiously in love. I don’t get it.
The lights are dim when we enter the den. Inga and Camilla burst into song, each holding opposite sides of a triple-layer chocolate cake that flames to life, covered in eighteen candles.
I roll my eyes, keeping my attention on Kenna, careful to remain alert in case she tries anything.
>
She bounces on her toes and claps her hands together under her chin. “Thank you,” she says. “This is so sweet of you.”
“Literally,” Avril says dryly. “Cake for the captive. How disturbingly saccharine.”
Claude cuts the slices.
“Um, I’ll take two, please,” Kenna says in a small voice.
Claude smirks and dishes her up.
She digs in.
I pass when offered a piece.
Inga gives Kenna a little box. “What’s this? A gift? Wow. I’m confused. Are you like, buttering me up for the kill or something?”
If she only knew.
Kenna pulls the top off the box and smiles at the brand new tube of Cherry Chapstick inside.
Inga says, “Corbin mentioned you lost yours in the whole kerfuffle in Intherness. Said it was your favorite so—” She shrugs. “Being far from home, sometimes it’s the little things that bring us comfort.”
I soften because of all of us, Inga would know.
Kenna gets up and hugs Inga, surprising us all.
“So, have you synthesized?” Camilla asks.
Kenna returned to her cake and has a mouthful.
Baker shakes his head. “She doesn’t know what you’re talking about.”
“We have to tell her,” Claude says.
Kenna swallows. “Yeah. That would be nice. Or I could call my mom and get out of here.”
“It’s not safe,” Inga says.
“You’re right and being kept here by a bunch of people who think they’re wolves and are plying me with cake is much better. I expect at any moment to pass out from poison or something. But I’m desperate from hunger so I’m throwing caution to the wind and all that.” She gets up and waves. “It’s been real, or not... no, I’d rather this be some strange nightmare.”
I meet Kenna’s eyes sharply, and her brow furrows for a second like she’s seeing me for the first time all over again. Then she shakes her head abruptly.
Camilla steps forward, placing her hand on Kenna’s arm. “We won’t hurt you.”
Not yet.
“As Corbin said, we’re Pack Hjalmor. Warrior wolf shifters.” She releases her wolf’s paw, which is still on Kenna’s arm, and then winks.
Kenna yelps, jerking her arm away, and her fork clatters to the floor. “I think I’m having a sugar overdose.”
“You can believe your eyes.” Camilla’s hand is human again.
She looks at each of us in turn, landing on me. “You’re really all wolves?”
Various forms of assent echo through the room.
“And we can tell you this because you are one too. Otherwise, the Articles of Accord forbid us from revealing our magic to humans.”
Her mouth draws into a wide smile, and she laughs loudly.
“Or part wolf,” I say, but I don’t think she hears me.
Camilla’s expression is soft but serious. “Have you ever felt like howling? Do you have a keen sense of smell and other senses for that matter? Do you ever feel a press inside? Like your bones are pushing against your skin? Like something is trying to claw its way out. The wolf is in your nature just like your eyes, your skin, and everything else that makes you who you are.”
Kenna drops back into the chair and goes still as though slowly accepting this reality.
Camilla has always been the one to help orient our new shifters. She’s fierce when needed but also the most gentle among us.
“I’m sorry we all got off to a rocky start. There are reasons we’ll get to, but I want to officially welcome you to Pack Hjalmor. Our colors are silver and black and our symbol is a helmeted wolf to denote our warrior status.” Camilla smiles.
Kenna does not. “Does this mean there are other packs?”
“There are several, but we’re the only one in Concordia. There’s Bjeri Pack, Fenrik, Vargr, Ingmar, and a few others scattered around the world.”
“Whoa,” Kenna breathes.
“So, do you feel like you’ve synthesized?” Camilla asks again.
When Kenna doesn’t reply, Inga explains. “It’s when you come into your power. It usually happens when you’re younger, but sometimes can happen as old as eighteen. Since it’s your birthday...”
Kenna shifts uncomfortably in her chair. “How would I know?”
“It’s like coming of age. You just know. Deep inside. And you can release your wolf to shift.”
Kenna slowly lifts and lowers one shoulder. “I suppose I’ve felt off lately, and sometimes it’s like I get warnings on the back of my neck.” She lifts her hand to the spot.
“Your hackles,” Baker says.
“Corbin didn’t shift until he was eighteen,” Trigg says. “Late bloomer.”
My beta winks at me. I let him laugh. I synthesized hard and fast and became Alpha in a year. It had never happened in history. I can show any of them up with my paws tied behind my back.
“He’s almost a hundred years old trapped in a twenty-one-year-old body,” Inga says suggestively.
“Back to matters at hand,” I say, eager to catch Kenna up to speed since she seems genuinely clueless, and I need to get what info I can. “There are two realms. This is Terra. Magic primarily sources from Borea. But after multiple wars, disputes, battles, well, here we are. More recently, we created the Accords using a protective spell along with the Council who are here to enforce it. They appointed me representative of wolf shifters. There are also reps for the fae and vampires among others—the elder eight alphas. I’m also Alpha of my pack.”
“Why did you form the Accords?” Kenna asks.
My wolf chitters from within, wanting to hear Kenna’s voice. I have to be careful. Keep my distance. “For thousands of years, wolves and other shifters, fae, and vampires were monsters, mysterious, and feared. Our base instincts drove us. The vampires were thirsty for human blood, the werewolves violent and feasted on flesh, the fae tormented humans, and the ghosts haunted... It was a grim part of our history, but now as part of the Accords, a spell subdues the beasts we once were and protects us from ourselves and humans.”
“How do you do that?”
Kenna had leans in, meeting my eyes, and listens so intently, I forget anyone else is in the room.
“Mage magic,” Avril answers.
“So there are witches too, and you’re under a spell to keep you from killing?” Kenna’s voice wrangles my attention.
“Something like that.” I recall the visit from Tatiana.
“There’s also the Klave,” Baker says. “They’re a rebellious group. Just like wolves are hunters and have territories, as part of the Accords, we protect the countryside and mountains. Vamps rule the cities, and fae the forest. However, some want to break this agreement and hunt humans or anything with a beating heart. They’re a fringe group called the Klave.”
“And there are demons, goblins, and other uglies,” Trigg adds. “We think they’re in league with the Klave, attempting an uprising to break free of the protective spell.”
“It would be anarchy, chaos, destruction. They’re spreading lies about the Council, trying to get them to hate each other. To divide us,” Claude says.
“I believe the person in purple who attacked you on the street and dragged you into the alley is a member of the Klave,” I say.
Kenna presses her hand to her chest as though startled all over again by the encounter. “Being such a clean city, the sewer drains and that alley smelled awful. But for a minute there, I thought you were worried I was part of that group you called the Klave. So how do I fit into this?”
“We’re the peacekeepers and don’t want the Accords broken. That would mean brutal fighting. However, we’re concerned they might try to use you to do just that,” I say.
“Me?” she balks.
I’m not much of a talker, and this is getting tiresome. “The day is coming to a close. We have training drills and then patrols tonight,” I tell my betas. “Keep watch over Kenna,” I add to Inga and Camilla. She seems to have war
med to them the most. Maybe she’ll divulge useful information. And if she tries to escape, they can handle her.
“Then what?” Avril asks.
“Tomorrow Kenna and I will go to Cardington.”
After the bold member of the Klave attacked along with the others who approached her in Intherness, I only trust my pack. However, if something happens, and she gets away or is abducted, it’s my responsibility. I don’t want to burden my betas with that.
My wolf howls inside. I grimace. Yeah, he wants to spend more time with the abomination. Maybe it’s him I don’t trust.
Kenna almost smiles. I sweep from the room when something inside fixates on the lift of her lips.
I have to get away. I have to stay away.
Once outside and at the foot of the mountains, the shift into my wolf is effortless. Transforming into this powerful creature that can outlast and outrun any challenge is just what I need to take away the rough edges at least until tomorrow.
Yet, Kenna remains in my wolf’s mind too. It’s like there is no escaping the scratch of my frustration. I grind my teeth and dig my claws into the earth sending dirt spitting in every direction as I run. I want to punch something, tear something apart, destroy the heart beating in my chest.
I have to overcome this.
I’ve worked too hard.
Come too far.
I run in the wilds until the moon rises high in the sky then I let loose a howl.
Chapter 9
Kenna
Things are just getting juicy when Corbin leaves in a huff. Fine. Whatever. I don’t need to feel this strange fluttering in my stomach even though he stares at me like he hates me.
Now that he’s gone, another feeling fills me or leaves me. I can’t decide. While we were talking about the Klave, I felt something like dread. Not the hackle-lifting kind or the spine-tingling type either. It’s worry. Corbin repeatedly draws my attention. It was him. He’s worried. Can I sense that? Another part of being wolf?
I need some time to wrap my head around that possibility. Because that’s all it is. Right?
At least there’s more cake, and Inga and Camilla stay back to watch over me. Whatever-squared.
