by E Hall
I help myself to thirds of the birthday cake. “I’m still alive. I may as well throw caution to the wind and celebrate.” I turn to Camilla. “That whole paw trick, I wasn’t hallucinating?”
She shakes her head. “It’s not a pull a rabbit out of a hat kind of trick either. It’s real. I am a wolf.”
Inga laughs and then raises her hand. “Me too.”
“When did you know?”
Inga smiles. “I was eight. I grew up in Finland. I first shifted while on a swing in the backyard. It just came over me. It was late summer. The days were getting short. I took off running, not having any idea what was happening until I caught my reflection in a patch of ice. We lived way up north. Like we were saying earlier, all wolves will synthesize by the age of eighteen. Never later. Seeing as that’s today. You should know any time now.”
“Unless...” Camilla starts.
“Unless?” I ask.
Inga gives Camilla a look. “Unless multiple types of magic are vying for dominance.”
“Like fae, shifters, vampires...?” I trail off. Not liking this at all.
They both nod.
“It’s called tri-magic, as in three, and has never existed...before you.”
“Huh. I have been feeling off. But chalk it up to graduation and other stuff...”
“What kinds of other stuff?” Camilla leans in, encouraging me to go on.
I tell them about the blow out with my mom and Matt, then the encounters when I first arrived in Concordia.
“It definitely sounds like the synthesis is coming,” Camilla says.
“You’ve both stopped aging?”
Again, they nod.
“So no wrinkles or grey hair. My mom will be so jealous.” The comment freezes me. Actually, my mother doesn’t have a gray hair on her head and doesn’t color it. Hardly had the time or extra money to go to a salon, anyway. No wrinkles either. Smooth, creamy skin. Flawless. My fork drops with a clatter.
“You okay?”
I stuff another bite of cake into my mouth to keep myself from saying more.
Despite all the sugar, I get sleepy and yawn.
“We can head back to the guest room. You’re welcome to have a bath or shower. I’ll bring you some clothes,” Camilla offers.
“I have my backpack,” I say. “Amanda broke my phone.”
“Don’t mind her. She has a chip the size of the Montmartres on her shoulder,” Inga says.
“The Mont-whats?” I ask as we walk through the hall.
The wood floor is polished and from what little I see, this house is rustic and elegant at the same time. There are wide wood beams, stonework, but also gauzy drapes, and fluffy pillows and bedding, which I’m looking forward to flopping into.
As we pass a window, Inga says, “Those are the Montmartres. The biggest mountain range in Concordia and the border of our territory. This country looks small on the map, but that’s intentional. A lot of money can make a lot of land look small on maps. The monarchy does it to protect their resources... and us.”
“Even though we’re largely concealed from the outside world, the original portal between the realms existed here. The humans here grew accustomed to our kind, and it’s where fairytales and fantasy originated. Even though the portal is since closed, the Concordians have always been good to magicals.”
“Is that why you protect them?” I ask.
“Apart from the obvious reasons. Yeah. And that they’re weaker than us. We look after them the same way you would a child. We want to give them a chance to evolve and strengthen.”
“Seems like you’re doing a good job. Until the other day, I didn’t believe magic was real.”
Camilla bumps me with her hip as we enter the room. “Kenna, like it or not, you’re one of us.”
I pull on a loose string on my shirt.
“We also want to coexist. If magicals ruled, well, without the spell brought forth by the Accords, we’d slaughter each other. It’s in our nature.”
“So you really think I’m magical?” My throat constricts.
They nod in unison.
Inga says, “But just what kind of magic is what we want to find out.”
I have the wolf dream again. I guess I can rely on it every time I sleep, at least while here. Inga and Camilla are still in the room when I wake up the next morning. We have breakfast and chat some more. I have to remind myself all over again where I am and what’s going on even though much of it seems hazy.
Someone knocks lightly on the door. Claude pokes his head in. “Corbin is on his way. Running a little behind. He had a late night.” He waggles his eyebrows.
A late night? Oh, right. He’s Alpha. Jealousy spikes through me. It’s stupid. Why do I care if he likes me? I don’t. I tell myself I don’t. Repeatedly.
“Will you come run with me when you’re done here?” Claude asks Inga.
She beams a smile. “Of course.”
I get the sense they’re together.
“He missed you,” Camilla says when he exits.
“I should hope so. And I have no doubt Baker was pining after you last night.”
“There’s nothing like running together.” Inga swoons a smile like it’s her greatest joy.
“Are you together-together?” I ask even though it’s really none of my business. But in this wolf world, it seems like relationships mean something. It can’t hurt to try to get to know them better.
“Claude and I are boyfriend and girlfriend. Same with Baker and Camilla. Trigg and Avril too.”
Camilla adds, “We’re all betas which works out nicely for Corbin. But we’re not fated mates. At least I don’t think so. It’s very rare.”
“But Corbin needs to find his,” Inga says.
“Even rarer is a heartmatch. It’s like the ultimate bond.” Camilla smiles softly.
A little ripple works through me. It turns into a flutter and then continues to rise, bringing heat to my cheeks when the door flies open. No knock this time.
“Ready?” Corbin asks sharply as his eyes land on me.
I point to myself.
“Do you want to go to Cardington or not?”
I scramble to gather my things, including my backpack and the envelope my mother gave me. I hope to find my father and not have to come back here.
With a cold stare and without so much as a greeting, Corbin leads me to a black Jeep.
Because I was unconscious when I arrived here, as we pull away, I’m surprised to see the house is a giant lodge that forms a U-shape with a gorgeously landscaped front with flowers and water elements. It’s easily the size of a mansion with fieldstones that give way to wood, reminding me of a very fancy Viking lodge. Landscaping including flower gardens and various paths lead in different directions.
Mountains rise in the back and fields wrap all around that give way to thinly wooded areas.
“Wow,” I say. “It’s beautiful.”
“It’s home,” Corbin says, maneuvering through a large wooden gate reinforced with metal that reminds me of a middle-age fortification.
The main road resembles the highways back home near the White Mountains, only these are even bigger.
“Do you know the way to Cardington?” I ask.
He nods, keeping his attention fixed on the road. “It’ll take a couple of hours.”
Not too far from the wolf pack Headquarters, we pass the quaint town of Polaris. Even though it’s almost summer, the place seems perfect for curling up with a cup of cocoa on a snowy winter’s day.
I spot a bakery, restaurant, bookstore, and a few other shops. I almost forgot about the “normal” world.
Being alone in the Jeep with Corbin makes me hyper-aware of everything—my breathing, pulse, and the placement of my arms. He doesn’t seem to care as his elbow practically juts across the center console and into my personal space.
My cheeks were already warm but in the side mirror reflection, they are practically beet red.
I roll the window down
slightly for some fresh air.
The conversation with Inga and Camilla about not aging hangs in my mind, filling the silence with questions. I say, “Yesterday when everyone was talking, you mentioned that I might be part wolf.”
“I didn’t think you heard me.”
“How can I ignore the big bad wolf?” I tease.
His expression remains impassive.
“I’m stuck on the word part. Does that mean I’m also part human or—?”
“Or,” he says.
“Or?” I repeat.
He flicks on the radio. Rock music booms through the speakers and doesn’t relent until we pass a few houses outlined by low stone walls. Soon, we pull at the end of a long driveway leading to a wrought-iron gate. Beyond that is a brick Victorian-style mansion complete with a few turrets.
I glance at the number on the stone pillar supporting the gate and then check the document from the envelope. “How did you know this is where we were supposed to go?”
“A hunch.”
I peer through the windshield. “It looks abandoned.”
“There could be glamour over it. Hard to tell.” Corbin rings the bell on the wrought iron gate.
I survey the stone perimeter and long driveway doubtful anyone will answer by the length of the weeds growing along it.
Corbin asks, “Did you get a key?”
I shake my head.
He gently nudges the gate with the Jeep. It gives with a loud creak. “You said you inherited this place, right? I’ll reimburse you for the damage to the gate. It was that or tear the thing off the hinges.”
“You consider mashing a vehicle into a metal gate gentler than your brute force?”
“Shifters, when in human form, are exceptionally strong. Not necessarily as strong as vampires though. But watch out when we summon the wolf.” Corbin chuckles so low I almost miss it. His sense of humor seems to be lacking.
However, a feathery sensation spreads across my skin. It’s different than my hackles rising. Somehow warm. Maybe my inner-weirdo thinks he’s funny...and cute. I can’t argue that.
Corbin’s eyes flash as he speeds down the driveway. I sense adrenaline and... wolf. He has his shifter form at the ready. I can feel it. I’m sure of it.
Pressure builds inside of me, and if I were as nuts as the rest of Pack Hjalmor I’d think he was calling my so-called inner wolf to the surface too. I think I’d make a better cat or guinea pig. Something soft and cuddly, not fierce and deadly.
I don’t know what we’ll face when we get inside, but I better prepare myself too. How to do that, is another question entirely.
As if sensing my uncertainty, Corbin says, “I’ll go check things out. Wait here.”
“Is that an order, Alpha wolf?”
His eyes narrow. “I’m not your Alpha.”
“I figured you were everyone’s Alpha.”
“No, shifters have to choose, but once they do, it’s forever. Anyway, I don’t quite think you’re wolf pack material.” The corner of his lip twitches. “I don’t think you could handle me being your Alpha.” He gets out of the Jeep and slams the door.
He’s so smug and coarse, he makes me want to snarl and claw at something. I try to be nice and he’s just, well, so Alpha.
I leave the vehicle and slam my door just as hard. I think it made an indent. Oops. Didn’t realize my strength.
I call to Corbin, “No, you’re right. But I don’t think you can handle me either.”
Chapter 10
Corbin
Being in the Jeep with Kenna was worse than the time I single-handedly took down a coven of rogue vampires terrorizing a small lake town in Scotland. It was worse than the Battle of the Packs seventy-five years ago. It was worse than...
I come up short when my inner wolf interrupts my train of thought. Worse than the lonely nights? Worse than the hole in your heart? Worse than the blemish in your pride?
Just admit it.
No.
Yes.
No.
And so continues the inner dialog. My wolf is every bit part of me, but when I’m in physical form, he has his own opinions especially when it comes to women. It’s safe to say he has a hunger that I usually ignore.
But this is different. You know it is, Corbin.
Enough.
I stomp up the stone steps of the Victorian-style mansion with ivy growing up the sides. It’s definitely abandoned. Or meant to look that way.
I pick up Kenna’s scent before she reaches me by the door. Wolf mixed with the slightest hint of other magicals as well as cherries.
My wolf inhales deep. I practically tear the front door off its hinges.
Kenna’s smoky eyes are wide.
I shrug. “You said you didn’t have a key.”
“You could knock like a normal person.”
I level her with a gaze. “We’re not normal people.”
“Yeah, I’m starting to realize that,” she mumbles.
As we enter the musty mansion, she’s close by my side. Closer than I’d like.
A carpet runner spans the length of the foyer. A dusty chandelier hangs overhead and sheets cover the furniture. Under the dank smell of a closed-up house, I detect magic, vampires, fae, and shifters alike, but not recently.
Then again, I might be crossing up Kenna’s scent, which gets stronger by the minute.
I pause in front of the library. It’s the only room so far without coverings over everything. A map on the wall catches my attention.
“I imagine this place used to be pretty swanky. Leather armchairs, polished wood, creepy antiques.” She picks up a frame that contains a broken mirror etched with what looks like vines instead of a photograph.
“Don’t—” I warn. “These might be magical objects.”
She puts it back down and wanders to another table in the center of the room. She picks up something else. I turn, about to explain what I meant about the dangers of magical objects.
“It’s for me,” she says, holding a leather-bound book tied with a red piece of fabric.
A card printed with her name stands tented on the table.
Kenna’s eyes are wide as she opens it. The leather is worn like it’s old, but the pages are blank. “My mom must have left it to me. She knew I’d come in here—the library. And she knows I keep a diary. So that must mean she’s been here.”
Her bright hope joins us as we walk through the rest of the house, including a wine-cellar. “Often the lower levels of these old houses lead to sub-sub spaces. I thought this might lead to a secret meeting place, but it’s safe to say this place is empty,” I say as we walk back upstairs.
“You say we’re alone, but I get the distinct feeling this place is haunted.” Kenna shivers.
“Ghosts aren’t as bad as you think.”
“Why do you assume I think ghosts are bad?”
I wander back to the map, illustrating the topography of Concordia. I know this land well, having lived here for so many years. However, as an Alpha in charge of my pack and Council member with Kenna in my custody is entirely new territory. I don’t know where the peaks and gorges are located, the spots to avoid, or what to explore. She isn’t quite the threat to the realm that I expected. At least not yet. I have to figure out how to best approach this situation for the good of my pack and the people both magical and non-magical alike.
From the other room, I hear her soft breath. My pulse picks up the beat of her heart.
I wander into the parlor. A sheet hangs partially off a grand piano. Velvet drapes hang limply in front of the windows. Kenna stands there, looking outside.
There’s no denying I’m drawn to her. I tell myself it’s to gather information, to learn her blind spots and weaknesses. To better navigate this uncharted land.
Stepping behind her, gazing at a vast valley, I say, “It’s beautiful.” No, my wolf said that because he loves running free.
She startles, whirls, and then socks me in the stomach.
It’s
rock hard, but so is her fist.
I lurch back then coil, ready to fight. My nerves were already taut, but maybe she lured me into a false sense of security by being passive and wide-eyed.
Wincing, Kenna clutches her hand. “Ow, ow.”
Or not. I sense genuine pain in her energy.
“What was that for?” I ask.
“You startled me.” Then she drops her hand. “Weird. It stopped hurting. I could’ve sworn I broke a finger.”
“When you punch, keep your thumb on the outside of your fingers.”
She rolls her eyes as if to say she knew that. “This place is spooky. Why did you sneak up on me?”
“Listen for people sneaking up behind you.”
“I was on alert. You were completely silent.”
I smirk. “Goes with being a wolf shifter.”
“What, for stalking your prey?”
I give a noncommittal shrug. “There are ghouls, shadow creatures, and after your encounters in Intherness with the fae, vamp, and a member of the Klave, you likely have a price on your head.” Why am I giving her survival tips when soon I’ll be the one to end her life?
“Why did you stand by and watch while I was nearly attacked those times?”
“I wanted to see what you’d do. How you’d respond.”
She inclines her head. “Wow. You are twisted.”
The insult wasn’t like the punch in the gut but does hit my pride. “You need to learn to use your instincts.”
“My instincts tell me I could use a doughnut right now. I eat when I’m stressed. Or happy or whenever.” She brushes past me, leaving me with the scent of wolf, cherries, and longing.
Maybe I could use a doughnut too.
I find Kenna in the kitchen, poking around. “Well, I guess this is as good a place as any to call home. I’d like to call my mother and let her know I arrived here. Can I borrow your phone? Your wolfy girlfriend, Amanda, broke mine.”
I laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“You sure ask a lot of questions.”
“For your information, I had a payment plan for that thing. Now, it’s useless.”
“For your information, Amanda isn’t my girlfriend. Alphas don’t have girlfriends.”
