by Kat Zaccard
“What do you mean?” I felt alarmed. How much of my history was common knowledge?
Logan coughed. “Alice, when you come of age, you’re in line to be queen. Right now, the reigning queen has to decide to abdicate to you or try to keep her throne. There’s little she can do legally; you are the rightful heir. But you’re also an unknown factor and new to the political scene. She may try to maneuver a way to keep the throne a while longer. Perhaps she’s hoping you will abdicate to her.”
“Many say she’s a pretender with no right to the crown,” Adam interjected. “Your great-uncle Frederick was already dead when she maneuvered herself to become queen regent after your parents died and then you supposedly did, too—”
“Wait a minute.” I couldn’t believe this. “You mean, they thought I had died? I’m like, back from the dead?”
“According to tabloids,” quipped Shea with a laugh.
“Hey!” I swatted her arm. “And here I thought I was flying under the radar, other than Jillian’s torment.”
“Jillian has been top bitch around here since her mom was made queen regent, but she sees you as a major threat, so obviously she has to hate you,” explained Shea matter-of-factly.
“Obviously,” I said dryly, heavy on the eye-roll.
Logan rolled his shoulders and said, “Jeez, you girls are catty.”
“Oh, c’mon,” said Adam, “this is kind of important information for Alice to know!”
“Yeah, well, I can’t vote for two years, and I don’t think anyone really cares if I even want to be queen. This whole thing is just bizarre.”
Logan looked surprised. “You don’t want to be queen?”
It was my turn to be surprised. “Why would I? It seems to be a lot of people telling me what to do and not a lot of freedom.” Logan looked disappointed, and I felt the need to amend my statement. “I mean, I haven’t had much time to get used to the idea of being a werewolf, let alone a royal one.” Logan’s expression softened, and he slung an arm around me as we kept walking to the next row of trees. I was glad the tension had passed, but I wasn’t happy that I had felt such an urge to please him. I don’t want to be queen, so why didn’t I just say that?
Later that evening, I figured it out while talking to Shea. “I promised myself I wouldn’t let this royalty thing change me, it’s hard enough to hang on to my humanity with a she-wolf ready to tear out of me at any given moment. Now I have to worry about arranged marriages and royal sabotage? It’s nuts! And what if Logan really cares about that stuff?”
“You really like him, huh?”
“That’s your take away from all this?”
“Well, yeah.” She’d said “yeah,” but it sounded like “duh!” “You want him to like you for you, not for being a royal, potentially next in line for the crown, and well, his betrothed.”
“AARRGGH!” I screamed throwing a pillow at her. “You said the b-word!”
“Yeah, but you’re blushing!” We both giggled like hyenas.
“I can’t help it. I thought I liked Nick, but this thing with Logan … I don’t know. It’s so different. It’s exciting.”
Then I remembered my annoyance with Logan earlier. “It’s just that I compromised my opinion because he is a royal and raised that way, so I want to respect that.”
“I sense a ‘but,’” Shea said.
“But I don’t want this label I’ve been given to change who I am, and—”
“That’s not even the half of it when you factor in the wolf!” Shea laughed, trying to lighten the mood, her gift in life. But this time, I was already steamed.
“You don’t get it. A month ago, I was just an American teen whose dad had recently totally humiliated her in front of the whole entire school. Jeez! That was my biggest problem, and it still makes me mad! Now, I’m supposed to take over some bloodline dynasty because it’s my birth familial obligation, the birth family who abandoned me, by-the-way. And you’re right. I’m also a freaking werewolf! I don’t want this thing inside me to change me!” I wailed.
Shea held my gaze kindly. “I know, I’ve had only a little longer than you to get used to the reality of werewolves and the insanity that I am one. But the best I can tell you for sure is that it just is. It’s there inside of you, and the more you embrace your wolf, the easier she will integrate with you. I mean, everybody talks to themselves, right? At least they do on the inside, if not out loud.” She laughed. “We have, like, a third party or a manifestation of our higher self. We have an instinct that is simply a part of our very nature. Listen to your wolf when your humanity fails you.” The last line was said with a wink and a smile, but the look in her eyes held a depth beyond her years.
I knew my troubles were not likely to compare to whatever pain Shea endured growing up truly abandoned in an orphanage. At least my birth parents had seen I was taken care of, adopted and ultimately returned to the Pack.
“Thank you,” I said. “I’m so glad I have you to freak out to!” We laughed, and the heavy moment lifted by mutual agreement.
Shea smiled. “You know what?” She glanced at me. “I really like Adam.”
I felt a pang of guilt for going on about Logan and not asking about Adam. It was time to make up for that transgression. “It was pretty great how he looked at you when you asked him to the dance. I think he really likes you, too.”
“Really? I can’t tell if I’m imagining it.” Shea was shy but always seemed so steady and rock-solid, yet for a moment, she looked especially vulnerable.
“Yeah, I do. I caught him looking at you a few times when you weren’t paying attention, and he seems smitten.”
Shea snorted. “Smitten? You gotta be kidding me!”
We chatted some more about the Fall Fling, Shea assuring me there was a clothing store in Dryden as well as a great resale shop that sometimes has cool vintage dresses. I got the feeling that Shea was worried about buying a dress with me at a resale shop until I reminded her that most of my wardrobe was from the Goodwill at home. I insisted I was more than happy to spend my new-found allowance at thrift shops.
After Shea left, I was lying in bed thinking about our conversation about the dresses. I resolved to buy her dress for her, one way or another. I knew she wouldn’t like charity, but this was different. I felt so lucky to have a real friend, one who wasn’t just sucking up to me because I was a royal, or rather avoiding me like everyone else at school because I was royal enemy number one in Jillian’s eyes. I tried not to think about that bigger issue of royalty. I just wanted to enjoy the idea of being a normal teenage girl with a normal crush on a normal boy who was going to a normal teenage dance with me. I heard a distant howl from a member of the Guard on patrol and smiled to myself at the irony. Yeah right, totally normal.
Chapter 8
The weekend arrived and we were pumped to go into Cedarburg and check out the shops. Logan had managed to secure both privilege and transportation for the outing. I did note the irony that I was excited to go into an unincorporated township that was smaller than my hometown, Greenville. Just two months ago, I was begging my mom to drive me into Madison with her to shop on State Street. I wished we could go to Kamloops, but Shea assured me there were at least a few cool places to see in Cedarburg. There had to be more than a truck stop, and it was as close to civilization as I was going to get for a while.
Mt. Henley lay just beyond the nearby township of Cedarburg, so it could basically hide its existence to the wider world while still having internet access. It’s officially a private prep school and university on the outskirts of Cedarburg. In reality, it’s a sprawling complex, university, and hidden village of werewolves nestled in the valleys of the Omenika mountain range. The only mailing address was a single post office box in Cedarburg.
Our plan was to first check out the shops in Dryden, then meet the boys back at school to catch a ride into Cedarburg with Jack. Jack had to get to the post office before noon, so we only had about an hour to spend shopping in the village. Lucki
ly the shops opened early on Saturday since students and staff were their best customers on the weekends. I was excited to walk to Dryden, having only skirted it a few times before in wolf form. The day was pleasant with clear skies and a gentle breeze rustling through the few leaves clinging desperately to the branches of the surrounding oak trees. As we rounded the last corner, I saw the village come into view. The cute shops were adorned with late fall flowers in colorful planters and ivy-draped awnings.
Dryden had a quaint town square with a few shops, cafés, and a public library. The largest buildings were an ancient-looking movie theatre and a two-story hotel with long verandas stretching across both levels. Vines with purple flowers twined the railings, and the twinkle off the chandeliers hanging over the porches hinted at the grandeur inside. Over the years, the werewolves had settled more of the valley, many having homes on quiet streets surrounding the shops and restaurants of downtown.
We stopped at a coffee shop where a dark-haired boy not much older than ourselves was setting out white metal chairs and tables. He looked familiar, and I realized he was the patrol I’d seen when I’d arrived with Jack my first day. He flashed us a grin as he set a chair down, and following us inside, stepped behind the counter, where we got another dimple and the age-old question: “What will you have?” His eyes twinkled, and I felt a pull in my belly as I grinned back.
Shea and I both ordered lattes with coconut milk, then sat outside to wait for our drinks. It was a perfect autumn day, and we soaked up the sun while watching leaves tug at their branches and one-by-one pull themselves free to fly, then fall, spiraling back to earth.
“Here ya go,” said the pleasant coffee shop guy. He was seriously good-looking with wide dark chocolate eyes and raven hair that kept falling into his eyes.
“Thanks,” I chirped and was rewarded with another dashing grin.
Shea caught my eye, and we both tried not to giggle when I felt my face flush. We enjoyed our lattes and I left a dollar under my saucer as we were leaving.
Shea smiled. “Americans and their dollars.”
I laughed and replied, “We just throw them away.”
Suddenly, a suspiciously dollar-like leaf blew by along with a surprised, “Oh!” carried on the wind. I spotted the bill near a flower box and lunged to step on it. With a wobble, I stepped to the bill and stooped to pick it up. When I stood back up, the cute guy from the coffee shop was standing in front of me, with another smile, this one shy, playing across his full lips. He was taller than me, with wide shoulders and muscular arms. It was hard not to stare.
“Thanks,” he said, as I handed him the bill, “but I wasn’t expecting a tip.” He tried handing back the bill.
I held up my hands. “No way! I always tip after I spent last summer as a bus girl.”
“You must be American.” He’d meant it in a friendly way, I could tell.
I smiled. “What gave me away, the money or the accent?”
He laughed and finally stopped trying to hand me the dollar. He stuffed it into his pocket, then held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Diego.”
I shook his hand firmly. “Nice to meet you, Diego. I’m Alice.”
Shea coughed. “And this is Shea.”
I blushed and dropped Diego’s hand. “Right. This is Shea.” Diego smiled at Shea, who waved hello, and I gave Diego major props for ignoring my embarrassment.
“Nice to meet you both. Are you students?”
I wanted to lie, since I was sure he wasn’t in high school, but what was I thinking? Hello! I had a boyfriend, didn’t I? Sort of, I mean, we’d never really labeled it, but I had a date to the dance, at least. “Yeah, we’re sophomores at Howl High.” Damn, too much honesty.
He laughed. “Well sounds like you’re fitting in. I just graduated in May.”
“Are you going to college?” I asked, because that’s what everyone asks a graduating senior.
“I want to, but I’m taking some time off to help out my mom with the coffee shop.” He glanced back at the café a few doors down, “Speaking of which, I should probably get back.”
“Okay. Well, nice to meet you,” I said with a straight face, though I wanted to slap my forehead for saying it again.
Diego tossed his dark hair out of his chocolate eyes and smiled back at me. “You, too, Alice. Shea.” With a polite nod to Shea, he turned back to the café.
We walked a few doors down, then ducked into the nearest open shop.
“What was that?” exclaimed Shea.
“What?” I asked innocently.
“You guys were totally flirting!”
“No way. He was just being nice. It was an accident.” I said, determined to brush it off.
“Yeah, okay.” Shea smiled. “You’re just being nice to the youngest Sliver in the history of Mount Henley’s patrols.”
“Who did what now? I thought you didn’t know him?”
“No, he didn’t know me,” Shea clarified. “He was a senior last year when I was a freshman, so I’m sure I didn’t register on his radar. But everyone knows who he is! Diego Galvan! He’s already a Sliver. That’s really rare for someone so young.” She hesitated and gave me a funny look. “Well, it usually is. But anyway, he was invited by Jack to run patrols his junior year when he already had ten days under the moon. By the time he graduated, he was a full-fledged Sliver, and Jack invited him to join the Guard permanently.”
“Yeah, but he said he was just helping out his mom before college.”
“I’m sure he is. His mom, Luciana Galvan, runs that café all by herself. I think Diego is just being modest. He was seriously a big deal last year. Not to mention, he’s all tall and handsome and plays the guitar,” Shea concluded sagely.
I laughed and teased, “The guitar, huh? Who’s interested in flirting now?”
Red-faced, she punched my arm. “Shut-up.”
We happened to be near an antique shop, so we decided to scope out the jewelry and scarves, but quickly concluded it was a wasted effort without knowing what dresses we would be wearing. Leaving to the melody of a chiming bell, we noticed several girls were in the consignment shop next door. As we pushed through the heavy wooden door, the noise of girls’ chatter assaulted our ears.
“Oh, jeez, Shea, it’s going to be hard to find a dress here.”
“Yeah,” Shea agreed, looking a little intimidated by the sight of Jillian and her débutante friends passing over dress after dress with yawns and loud snippets of “Not this,” “Oh no,” and “We will simply have to have something made.”
Jillian caught sight of me and narrowed her eyes. “C’mon girls,” she called loudly, “we won’t find anything here.” One by one, they took her lead, shooting me a glare, then pulling their noses up in the air as they trounced out of the store.
Shea was looking angry, but I grabbed her arm and pulled her to the nearest rack of dresses. “Awesome!” I said to her. “They left. Let’s search through these long ones, then take a look over there when those other girls try stuff on.”
After that, we had fun holding up dresses and deciding which one to try on. We both agreed a shorter dress was the way to go and quickly moved in on the rack of short dresses. There was still two weeks until the dance, but it was clear the racks had been picked over already. Shea and I each found a couple of dresses that fit, but nothing that wowed us. We agreed to hold off until we’d seen what Cedarburg had to offer.
Leaving the shop, we noticed Jillian and her friends outside the café. Diego was bringing them drinks, and Jillian appeared to be leaning half out of her chair to show off her chest.
“Ugh. Let’s cross the street.” My mood soured a bit, seeing her flirt so obviously with Diego.
“I agree,” said Shea, missing my point, but having reasons of her own. “I’ve had enough of Jillian for one day already.”
“Me, too!” I said. We crossed the street, walking past the huge, old theatre and large, lovely hotel. “Why is there a hotel for a secret village no one knows exists?” I
asked Shea curiously.
“Other werewolves visit for business, politics, and vacation. The queen has her own suite she stays in only a few days out of the year.”
“Huh. Seems like a waste of a good room to me.” I just couldn’t get excited about the whole queen idea, whether it was my mother, my enemy’s mother, or God forbid, myself. It was just too surreal to be, well … real.
I picked up the pace as we headed out of town. “Let’s hurry so we can grab a snack before we go.”
After grabbing a bite in the dining hall we met the boys in front of the main mansion that was the official Mt. Henley School. The jury was out on whether the rest of greater Canada considered Mt. Henley a swanky private school or a den of delinquents. Anonymity seemed to be the key, so public image was low-key.
Adam and Logan were waiting for us, lounging on the steps. They seemed less cordial with each other for some reason, but they both smiled when they saw us coming.
“Hey!” squeaked Shea as she bounded up to Adam and gave him a peck on the cheek. It was hard to say who’d turned redder. I could tell Shea had acted spontaneously.
Adam didn’t seem to mind, and his grin got even goofier as he replied oh so eloquently, “Hey.”
Meanwhile, I turned to Logan and smiled. “Are you excited to go to town?”
He laughed. “Oh, yeah. Cedarburg is so worth getting excited about.”
I frowned a little at his attitude. I didn’t like abusing my privilege to leave campus to go shopping, so I wanted to at least be grateful and humble about it. Wasn’t he just glad to get away from school, and to be with me, for that matter?
Before I could ask as much, Jack was coming up the drive in his old Jeep, and pulled up in front of us.
“Hey, kids, climb in!” He grinned.
Logan grumbled something about not being “kids.” I was glad he was in front of me and didn’t see my instinctive eye-roll, thinking, Jeez, Jack didn’t mean anything by it. He seemed genuinely happy to have company, not complaining about a bunch of teenagers making his 45-minute drive a nightmare. I hoped Logan would shake off whatever funk he was in today.
