Undying: A Reverse Harem Shifter Romance (Crystal Lake Pack Book 2)

by Candace Wondrak

  Haunting and heartbreaking.

  Chapter Five

  Addie walked beside Dylan, though it was more like a speed walk than a leisurely stroll through the woods. She watched him as they went, half listening to him. He kept going on and on about how he’d never seen anything like it before, and all Addie could think was: Jack.

  If Jack escaped, Forest would’ve been the first notified. Maybe the wolf shifted back into his human form? Or he was stuck, half and half, and couldn’t shift back? What else could Dylan have never seen before? He was a shifter from birth; none of this was new to him. He’d been around the block before countless of times.

  Her mind went wild with the possibilities of what could have Dylan so riled up. Dylan, the ever cool, ever calm twin, so frantic he had to run to pull her from whatever it was she was doing.

  “Henry is so pissed,” Dylan went on as they emerged from the woods, walking along the edge of the crystal-clear lake. They headed through the park, past the playground where a few children ran and laughed, playing tag. “I’ve never seen an elder so angry before, and I’ve never seen him get into such a deep rage he spits when he talks.”

  Hmm. So whatever it was, it couldn’t be too awful, to have made Henry so upset. Addie would probably like it, and if it was a person, she’d thank them, because anything that upset Henry made her happy.

  Heading into town, Addie knew they walked towards the house Dylan shared with Maze and Landon, and now her, and she grew a little confused. So it definitely wasn’t Jack. What could it possibly…

  All her thoughts trailed off when she spotted the back of the person arguing with Henry. They stood in the front lawn, their arms flailing about and the swearwords flying. On the porch, Landon stood, smirking as he watched, though the smirk left his face when he locked gazes with Addie.

  Still. She could not get over the fact that her mother was here, raising her voice to Henry and saying some things she’d told Addie would send her straight to hell if she ever tried to say them.

  “Mom?” Addie said, stopping ten feet away. Her mother and Henry were so caught up in their argument neither of them had turned to meet her, to greet her, to even acknowledge her presence. When Sarah unleashed a string of curse words that burned everyone’s ears, she said again, “Mom?”

  Sarah whirled on her daughter, her eyes fuming. Not once in her whole life had she ever witnessed her mother so angry, even after being expelled by her college for attacking her professor. She’d been surprisingly calm about that particular incident.

  “What are you—” Addie didn’t have the chance to say anything more, because her mother stormed to her side, grabbed her arm, and started hauling her to the sedan parked on the side of the road in front of the house. Like she was a petulant child throwing a tantrum in a store. But she’d done nothing wrong.

  Her mother had an iron grip around her upper arm, lugging her to the front seat. With her free arm, she yanked open the door and tried to stuff her in.

  “Mom, stop!” Addie shouted, finally breaking through the cloud of anger that hovered around her mother’s head, blocking everything else out. “Mom, you can’t just take me back.” She didn’t want to pull the I’m an adult and can make my own decisions card, but if she had to, she would.

  Her mother’s hazel stare narrowed at Addie. Today her blonde hair was pulled back in a tie-dye bandana, some of it braided and other sections of it free. She wore a shirt with a sun and moon on it, and pants that looked like they were taken straight out of a missing-the-nineties meme. She wouldn’t go so far as to say her mother embarrassed her, but. Well. The writing was on the wall.

  And it was Dylan’s and Landon’s first time meeting her, too. Somehow the fact made everything worse.

  “Oh, you think I can’t?” Sarah practically growled, sounding very much like the shifter she was, beneath all the hocus pocus. “You’re damn wrong there, Addie. I won’t let you stay when your life is at stake!”

  What was her mother even talking about? “Mom, what are you doing here?” Addie asked, rubbing her arm as she stepped away. Darn, her mother had a good, firm grip. “And how do you…” Oops.

  “How do I know my daughter is caught in the middle of some psychotic war against the shifters? Because Maze called and told me! I can’t believe you’d try to keep something like this from me—ignoring your mother,” Sarah hissed. “I’m so angry I could—”

  As Henry muttered something behind her, Addie shook her head. “Maze called you?”

  Sarah nodded once, her mouth forming a thin line. “As he should’ve. He was right to, since apparently you’re not answering your phone anymore.” Her platform-wearing feet tapped the sidewalk angrily.

  “It’s in my room, which I haven’t been back to in a while,” Addie tried to explain, knowing it would never be enough. It never was, with her mother.

  “This isn’t your fight,” her mother said.

  “Yes, it is. The shifters can’t fight this guy, but I can—with the magical side of me you’ve also kept a secret!” Addie wasn’t a fan of shouting at her mother, but at this point, her patience wore thin and she needed to let it out. “Are there any other family secrets I should know, Mom? Anything else you’ve hidden from me that I have a right to know?”

  The look on her mother’s face instantly changed. Instead of righteous anger, it was red-handed guilt, but even that didn’t last long because behind them, Henry quipped, “Finally, Sarah, your lies are catching up to you. I’ve waited nearly twenty years for this day.”

  Both Addie and Sarah whirled on him, saying in unison, “Shut up, Henry.” And then Addie and her mother met eyes, laughs bubbling up their throats. Neither of them liked Henry much, clearly.

  Who in their right mind would like a man like him?

  “Maybe,” Sarah spoke, “you should invite me inside. I think we have a lot to talk about.” Her eyes shot toward Dylan, who stood behind Addie, still holding onto his book as if it would protect him from the wrath that was her mother. She then looked at Landon on the porch, at his handsome but scowling face.

  Addie was going to smack him. He couldn’t act pleasant, even when her mother was around? Talk about rude.

  She knew what those looks to the guys were, too. She knew what her mother thought. She would happen to be correct in this case, but Addie was not going to say it. If anyone was going to explain things, it was Sarah, then, if she felt it was an adequate enough explanation, Addie would do her share of it.

  “Yeah, let’s go in,” Addie said, marching to the house. She stood on the porch’s bottommost step, sending a glare Landon’s way. She’d saved his ass from Clay. She could easily un-save it.

  Her mother stopped in the grass, throwing Henry a dour look. “You are not coming in,” she said.

  “Bullshit, all of this involves me. I’m coming in, because you have a hell of a lot of explaining to do to me, too,” Henry roared, his face reddened with rage. Dylan was right—he was so upset he was spitting when he talked.

  “This is a family matter, Henry,” Sarah said, refusing to back down. Addie supposed she’d never been one for adhering to the pack hierarchy, so why would she start now? Addie definitely took after her mother in that respect. “And regardless of what you think in that tiny, peanut-sized brain of yours, you are not family.” She moved past him, leaving him speechless in the yard.

  Addie would’ve said go, Mom, but the smirk on Landon’s face made the comment die in her throat. “Sooner or later,” she said, stepping toward Landon, “I’m going to wipe that smirk off your face.” She meant it as a threat, but of course it was at that inopportune time when she remembered what Maze had said.

  Landon liked her. This smirking douchey-ness was him playing nice.

  Oh, God. Now was most definitely not the best time to be thinking of that.

  Addie was the first in the house, leading her mother to the living room. Both Dylan and Landon came inside after them, though they lingered back. Henry, Addie noticed, plopped himself
down on one of the chairs on the porch. With his hearing, he could probably listen to everything that would be said in the room.

  Maybe they should turn on a loud radio.

  Sarah sat herself down on the couch, looking mighty uncomfortable as she gazed around the room. At the bare walls, at the minimal furniture, the muted wall colors. Everything was so clean it was almost unnerving. Addie had felt the same when she’d first come in the house…though it wasn’t as long ago as she thought. Her life had been a whirlwind lately.

  “Well,” Sarah spoke first after Addie had gingerly sat beside her, “come in, boys. Let’s meet the rest of you.” Dylan hesitantly moved before her, though Landon did not. “Yes, I see one of you is overflowing with manners.” Her hazel eyes shot Addie a look, as if she wanted to say more, but she held back.

  Great. Her mother thought she was in bed with the jerk, didn’t she?

  Dylan motioned for Landon to come in, holding his thick book behind his back, embarrassed to be caught by her mother reading Gone with the Wind, apparently. Landon was slow to enter the living room, his arms crossed and a look of annoyance on his face, though it lessened when Sarah turned her glare on him.

  Her mother had a way with douches.

  “So you’re the ones, huh? You and that Maze.” Sarah glanced at Addie. “I approve of Maze, at least. The boy was smart enough to call me while you three were off doing God knows what.”

  Addie would have to thank Maze for calling her mother, because it was about the only thing that could’ve made this situation worse. Marching herself into what might be a suicidal mission against a crazy death priest? Let’s call her mother and get her down here! She can have the front row seat.

  “Then again, none of you are good enough for my little girl,” Sarah went on, oblivious or uncaring to how completely mortifying this conversation was for Addie. “Even if she hides things from me, she’s my daughter, and I know none of you deserve her.”

  Landon looked as if he struggled to not roll his eyes at that, while Dylan hurriedly spoke, “I agree with you one hundred percent, Ma’am. We do not deserve Addie. She’s…” His voice trailed off, whatever compliment he planned on giving her dying before he could say it.

  Addie understood. Her mother was an intimidating woman, when she tried to be.

  “I would probably not finish that sentence,” Sarah said. “And it’s Sarah, not ma’am, not miss. Not runaway. Sarah. Just Sarah.” She turned her eyes to Addie, and Addie was practically javelined to her seat. She could not move, could not run, even if she tried to.

  It was too late for that, anyway.

  “Why don’t you start explaining first.” Sarah’s voice was heavy, and Addie flinched. “And don’t you dare leave anything out, missy, or I’ll march through this town, find Maze, take him by his ear and force him to fill in the blanks. I doubt you’d want that.”

  Her mother, in this case, was quite right—Addie did not want that. To have her mother marching through town, yelling for Maze, or even sniffing him out because she knew what the boy smelled like…it would put the embarrassment she felt now to shame.

  And she knew her mother would do it, too. It didn’t matter Sarah had run from this pack. When it concerned Addie, she was full mother mode, all parent. Sooner or later, Addie knew she’d be thankful for it, maybe, but now was not that time. Now she could feel nothing but mortification at the way her mother looked at her, how she’d spoken to Dylan and Landon, and what she thought.

  Did her mother already think she’d pledged herself to them, accepted her role as their mate? Addie hadn’t. Not really. Not yet. Just because she felt something, an indescribable tug, a pull toward each of them did not mean she rolled onto her back and gave them her metaphorical belly. Or whatever it was they’d need to claim her. She knew there was some sort of ceremony, but that was it.

  A sense of dread filled Addie, because she didn’t want to tell her mother the whole story. Not only would it take time, but it would also just bolster her mother’s view that she shouldn’t be here, she should go home with her. Addie had to make her mother understand.

  This might not have started out as her fight, but it was now. Clay had to be stopped, and she was the only one in the pack who could theoretically stop him.

  No pressure.

  Chapter Six

  All while Addie explained everything with Clay, the disappearances, the magic, the whole nature of the beast thing, Sarah looked at her like she was crazy for wanting to stay in this mess. Even after Dylan had made them all some tea, which Addie took a single sip of and then set down, because tea was one of her least favorite drinks after coffee, did not help to soothe her mother’s rattled expression.

  Her mother did not interrupt once, which was surprising. She sat with her back rod straight, hardly blinking, as she sipped her tea. Her hazel gaze was on the carpet, but Addie knew it was just Sarah’s way of thinking, of concentrating.

  Landon and Dylan had found seats; Dylan sat on a recliner in the corner of the room while Landon had his backside against the windowsill, pretty much blocking out Henry’s view in. The old man had turned the rocking chair on the porch, trying to glare inside. Landon’s back stopped all glares to and from the annoying elder.

  When Addie finished explaining it all, she did feel a little better. She did not like keeping things from her mother; she just would’ve preferred to have the situation handled and Clay taken care of before telling her about it. Now her mother would worry, worry, worry, and she wouldn’t stop. Addie would be lucky if she didn’t get ten calls a day with Sarah checking in on her.

  It was a few long moments of silence before Sarah muttered, “The pack always was one to get stuck in tradition. The ceremonies, the rituals. Their archaic way of thinking. Only fools would’ve stayed when their packmates were literally disappearing one by one.” She shook her head, the disapproval written across her face.

  “Where would we have gone?” Landon asked, a bit too snippy in tone to be talking to Addie’s mother. Addie shot him a glare. He needed to be nicer, or else he’d have her to deal with later. With any luck, her mother would pack up and leave after this; he would be stuck with a raging Addie if he wasn’t careful.

  “I don’t know, anywhere?” Sarah offered with a shrug. “It just seems that shifters are helping to dig their own grave. If they will not change with the times, the times will leave them behind. We’ll become extinct because we’re stubborn.” She heaved a sigh, turning to Addie, her tea steaming in her hands. “You do get that from me, I think. From your wolf. Henry always said I was one of the most stubborn pups he ever had.”

  Addie could totally see it.

  “Honestly, Addie, when you told me about your professor, how you were expelled because you attacked him,” Sarah started, eliciting a shocked what from Dylan and a smirk from Landon, “I thought it was your wolf trying to break out. Her last try. I’d be lying if I said I wanted you to find out about shifters. I never wanted this for you, honey. I wanted you to have a normal life—and by normal, I mean it in the human standard of the word. Eventually, I hoped, your wolf would grow so weak she would hardly be there at all. Then, foolishly, I thought we’d be safe.”

  She knew her mother had kept her from all of this to try and protect her, but what Addie couldn’t understand was why. “Mom, my wolf is a part of me. A part of me you hid. I never even knew she was there. It should’ve been my decision, not yours.”

  Sarah closed her eyes for a moment, lost in her memories. “Your father thought the same, but I begged him to help. He didn’t want to, but he knew I was right. He used a spell to build more walls inside of you, to help keep your wolf back. We did it for your own protection, Addie, because, like Clay, there are things in this world that would…” Her voice wavered, trembling in a way it never had before. “That would love to get their claws in you, to experiment on you.”

  Something about her mother’s explanation did not sit right with Addie, but she couldn’t put a finger on what it was.
She sat there quietly as Dylan asked, “Why? Because she’s a hybrid?”

  “Because,” Sarah said, “Addie should never have been born.”

  “Different species mate all the time,” Landon said. “We have a dozen humans here, more children—”

  Sarah interrupted, “That is not what I mean.” To Addie, she said, “When I met your father, I didn’t know what he was. I thought he was human. We can sense other wolf shifters, but anything else? Usually a guess. I had no idea he was next in line.”

  Though Addie’s mind lingered on what her mother had said before, she asked, “Next in line for what?”

  “There are seven high warlocks in the world. I never understood the specifics, because your father was sworn to secrecy about their meetings, but each of the seven has immense power over something. Your father was the product of generations of breeding to ensure a good replacement for one of them.”

  All of this was news to Addie, and she didn’t know how to take it. Seven high warlocks? Did that make her a warlock, an heir to her father’s throne of power?

  “The seven, once sworn in, cannot have children. They are asked about familial ties, about loved ones and wives and previous children. Anything connecting them to the non-magical world is taken care of.”

  “Killed,” Landon spoke, frowning. “You mean killed. Say what you mean.”

  Sarah glared at him for a moment before begrudgingly nodding. “Yes. I mean killed. Your father knew this, and he tried to keep me at a distance, but I’m stubborn, as you know. I was only sixteen when I first met him. He’d come to the pack in search of some old artifact our alpha had. A wolf totem of some sort. He wasn’t a high warlock then, just a twenty-year-old man. I fell in love at first sight, I think.”