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

by Candace Wondrak

  “Still reading Gone with the Wind?” Addie teased Dylan, knocking her leg against his, jerking him out of his focus. Though they were at least a hundred feet from the pyre, she could still feel its heat. She glanced over her shoulder.

  Past the throngs of shifters gathered closer to the pyre, the flames continued to eat away at the wooden structure, the bodies lying on top extra crispy. Addie assumed the fire would devour all it could, and when it was over, the remainder would be left in the trench and buried with sand and rocks once again.

  “Yes,” Dylan answered, flicking his brown gaze to her. Even with the glasses and the longer hair, he looked much like Maze. Reasonably so, since they were identical twins. They were both injured by the barrier, but his arm and shoulder were mostly healed. Maze’s was a little more tender, but he certainly hadn’t made any fuss when they were kissing.

  Then again, it wasn’t like she dragged her hands all over him. She pretty much only touched him with her lips, being shocked and all. Addie was a loser, and probably a bad kisser. What if he didn’t want to be her mate anymore because she didn’t kiss him back good enough?

  This was exactly the type of wallowing and self-doubt that annoyed her. Addie had to cut the crap and move on, try not to think about the kiss again and again.

  “How do you read with all this noise?” Addie asked, trying to focus on Dylan and not the kiss.

  Dylan, as much as he looked like Maze, couldn’t have been more different. While Maze’s eyes glinted with sarcasm and mischievousness, Dylan’s were kind and gentle. They made her feel at ease, comfortable. Addie felt calm when she was near him, soothed, almost.

  “It’s easy to tune things out,” he answered, folding the corner of the page before closing it. “It’s not as easy to tune you out.”

  With the way he spoke it, so serious and quiet, Addie wasn’t sure if she should apologize for distracting him or not. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I can go find someone else to bother.” She swung a leg out from under the picnic table, about to bring her other leg out so she could get up, but a hand appeared on the leg that straddled the bench seat.

  It might not have so much appeared as Dylan put it there, but either way, she froze.

  His hand was on her knee. Dylan’s hand was on her knee. This was…this was weird, wasn’t it? She’d just been kissed by his brother; she shouldn’t push her luck where Dylan was concerned. She shouldn’t be bothering him.

  “No,” Dylan said, “it’s okay. I like being bothered by you.” He slowly withdrew his hand from her leg, and after mentally debating it, she lifted it over the seat and slid it back under the table. “Did Maze show you his special place?”

  Addie so did not want to talk about Maze, because doing so would only make her remember the kiss, but it seemed like the powers that be wanted her to think about it. She was measured in answering, “Yes. I heard about your parents. I’m sorry.”

  Yes, that was a normal thing to say, wasn’t it? No I kissed your brother here.

  “Thank you.” Dylan adjusted his glasses, dark gaze falling to the table. “He must’ve been trying to court you hard, Addie, taking you there and telling you all that. Did my brother get what he wanted? Was he the first to kiss you?”

  Talk about a bizarre conversation. And it wasn’t like she was caught between them—they were all her future mates, all equal—so she couldn’t use it as an excuse. She had to face the music that she had strong feelings for more than one person at once.

  It was…so against her upbringing, not how her mother raised her, but it felt right. There were no other words for it. It. Was. Right. There was no point trying to hide from it, and definitely no point to lie.

  Addie eventually nodded once, figuring her words would only get caught and twisted in her throat.

  Dylan broke out in a smile, a soft one, tiny dimples in his cheeks that were both reminiscent of his brother’s, but also unique to him. “I figured as much, but that’s okay. I’m not too jealous.”

  In spite of herself, she was slightly insulted. Did that mean he didn’t want to kiss her as badly as Maze did? Addie squinted. It wasn’t like she wanted him to be jealous, but…well, maybe a little. “Why not?”

  Dylan studied her. “I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not it.”

  “It’s not, is it?” Addie hated how she sounded. Like a stubborn, ignorant child who didn’t know what was up and what was down.

  “Not at all. Now that Maze got his way, I won’t feel bad about doing this.” Without a warning, Dylan leaned toward her, pressing his lips against hers, hungrily devouring everything she surrendered to him. His kiss was unlike Maze’s in that it was tender, soft, almost questioning, but the doubt faded fast.

  And, just like before, just like with Maze, Addie was too shocked, too stunned to do much of anything besides receive the kiss. Probably not what these guys had in mind. They were men. They wanted a lot more than a frozen participant.

  His lips parted enough to let his tongue enter the equation, running over her bottom lip, making her tremble with pleasure. It was at that inopportune time when she had a horrible thought.

  Maze was a nipper, Dylan was a licker. What would Landon be?

  Okay, so it wasn’t a horrible thought by any means, just a really inappropriate one she should not have while Dylan was kissing her.

  The moment when she regained control of her limbs, the instant she was about to wrap her arms around his neck and hold her to him—because surely this kiss could last longer than the one she’d had with Maze—Dylan pulled back, ending it much too soon.

  If blue balls was a thing for girls, she’d so have it right now.

  She managed to ask a single, out of breath word as her heart raced inside her chest, “Why?” It could be taken in a lot of ways, but she meant it in only one.

  Dylan’s gaze lingered on her mouth, as if it was the most appealing thing he’d ever seen. “I don’t mind being second,” he whispered. “As long as I have you, I could be the hundredth and I wouldn’t care.”

  Addie blinked. Wasn’t it too soon to start declaring things like that? These guys…these shifters—they liked things to move at a marathon pace, whereas she liked things on a more glacial side.

  That was before today, though. Now? She’d be a marathon runner, if her yearning insides had anything to say about it.

  “What?” she asked, both wanting him to say more fluffy and sweet things to her and wanting him to realize what a mush he sounded like. Addie, clearly, couldn’t decide what she wanted. She was a hot mess tonight.

  “Landon will put up a fight no matter where he’s at, just so you know,” Dylan told her, as if that answered her question. “He’s like that, but Maze is right. He does care about you—it’s just hard for him to show it, with everything he’s been through.”

  Addie stared at him. What the heck was he talking about? She wasn’t about to go find Landon and kiss him, too. Two in the span of twenty minutes was enough, wasn’t it?

  Finally, Dylan seemed to realize she was discombobulated. “Are you all right? Should I not have done that?” He instantly took it to mean he’d done wrong by kissing her, but he couldn’t be farther from the truth.

  The truth was she wanted him to kiss her more. She wanted more. More in general. These intense but short-lived kisses were going to kill her. How was a girl supposed to cope, knowing how good they both kissed? What did she have to do—carry around a flashing neon sign that said available for kisses lasting more than ten seconds?

  “It’s hard,” Dylan went on, “because my wolf feels yours. I should’ve asked you, made sure it was okay with you first. I don’t know why I did that. I’m not—I’m not that kind of guy, really. I never do things like that.” The more the quiet one talked, the louder and more frantic he became, until Addie reached for him, setting a hand on his arm.

  “Stop,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound too breathy and frisky. “You’re fine. You didn’t do anything wrong. I liked it, Dylan.” Addie�
�s hand slid down his arm, and she was instantly lost in how hard his muscles were, even when he wasn’t flexing. Plus, the arm she held onto was his injured one. He barely had any scars. Maze was only a day or two behind him, and his arm had been in practically the same condition.

  How was that possible?

  Dylan watched her, realizing she ogled his arm like some hormonal teenage girl. He visibly relaxed, hopefully put at east by her words. “Shifters heal faster than humans,” he said. “Shifting helps speed the process along, but Forest doesn’t like us doing it. He says it’s to make us tougher. Only shift when we have to.”

  She nodded along, only half listening as her fingers traveled down along his arm. Dylan might be the quiet one, but he definitely wasn’t the typical book reader. The muscles, the sheer brawn. He was a man, even with those glasses and that hair, which typically hung over his eyes.

  “If the pain is too great, we can’t shift at all, one way or another,” he said. “Maze and I were both lucky the fire didn’t burn too deep, otherwise there would be scars.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner,” she said, “otherwise, maybe you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” Or maybe he wouldn’t have listened to her, maybe he would’ve whirled on her and turned on her like Forest did.

  Yeah. That was something she wouldn’t forget, even if now she knew why he’d been so prone to snap at his emotions.

  Dylan rested a hand over hers, holding her grip around his arm, not letting her go. “It’s not your fault, Addie. None of it. Without you, we never would’ve found it. None of this would be happening if it weren’t for you. Everything Forest said is true.”

  She wasn’t so confident about it, but she was glad he said it. “Thank you,” she whispered. Around them, she heard a few laughs, and Addie shot them all glares. Were they laughing at her? Did they know she’d kissed Maze and then so quickly Dylan?

  But no one else watched them. What small bits of laughter there was hovered over certain groups, the cliques whose members held the most alcohol.

  It was something Addie didn’t understand. Maybe because she was too much of a goody two shoes, but she’d never tried any type of alcohol before. Drinking wasn’t all that college was about, not for her. For her ex best friends, maybe. She was glad she didn’t smell any of it on Dylan’s breath. Landon, she knew, was probably one of the drunk ones, walking around, making fun of everything and everyone while laughing his ass off.

  That, or he was a mean drunk. Addie wasn’t sure how much meaner the wolf could be.

  As she gazed at the groups around them, she was oblivious to the curious look Dylan gave her. “Addie,” he spoke her name softly, “do you…” Trailing off, his gaze fell to his lap, his hand sliding off hers.

  She was slow to withdraw her arm from him, knowing she should stop touching him if she wanted to keep her sanity tonight. Addie asked, “What?” She couldn’t see Landon in the groups around them. Was he by the fire, by the lake?

  “What Caitlin said,” Dylan spoke, hesitancy coating every word.

  That got her attention. Her eyebrows furrowed, and it took her a moment to remember what Caitlin had said. Such was the power of the twins’ kisses, apparently. Mind-altering.

  When Dylan said nothing more, she prompted him, “What about it? Do you know what she was talking about?” Maybe one mystery could be figured out before the end of the night.

  “I think I do,” he spoke with uncertainty. “It’s…it’s not my place, though.”

  What the heck? If it involved Addie in any capacity, wasn’t it his business by default? Why in the world wouldn’t it be his place? If there was to be another mate, surely Dylan deserved a say, just as they all did.

  And then it hit her, the realization so swift and fast it was unavoidable, like a brick wall slapping her upside the head. Kind of shocking, and a whole lot of raised questions about gravity and other things, like the laws of nature. “You’re not talking about Jack, are you?” Addie asked, aghast at the possibility. He was a wolf for goodness sakes. He wasn’t even a man. There was no telling his age.

  But then, when it came to shifters and their dying breed, maybe age hardly mattered.

  “Jack? You mean the wolf in Forest’s basement?” Dylan blinked behind his glasses. “No, I don’t mean Jack.” His tone implied something Addie didn’t like, as if she danced around the subject, like she knew and refused to say it.

  Here’s the thing: she didn’t know, and this constant run around was giving her a headache.

  “Then what—”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything,” Dylan spoke, hurriedly grabbing his book and nearly leaping from the table, wanting to get away from her and her line of questioning.

  What the hell was in the water around here? Was everyone crazy? Was Addie the only sane one? These wolves were driving her up the walls, in both aggravating and wanting ways. It was the kisses. It had to be. They kissed Addie, and suddenly everyone lost their minds.

  Addie picked at a piece of splintered wood on the table. So this was how it was going to be, huh? This was how—

  A grey-haired, goatee-wearing figure sat across from her, his hazel eyes much like her mother’s, only angrier and haughtier. Henry.

  Fuck that.

  She decided she didn’t want to deal with him, getting up and walking away, not turning her head around to hear his protests. She’d rather spend her time locked in a padded room watching the Teletubbies on repeat than spend any amount of time with her grandfather.

  Besides, she wanted answers, and if she had anything to say about it, she would get them before the sun fell completely and shrouded the world in night.

  Chapter Eighteen

  One would think that, since she was so crazy for her future mates, Addie would be able to pick them out from a crowd, but as she zigzagged through the throngs of shifters, she could not spot them. A lineup? Definitely. But throw in a hundred other shifters who all smelled both similar and different, well, things got complicated for her nose.

  If she’d shifted, if she was fully one with her inner wolf, maybe she wouldn’t have this problem.

  Still at a disadvantage, no matter what she did.

  Addie wanted answers. What was everyone talking about? Was she supposed to have more than three mates? Were there a bunch of other males lining up to join her little harem?

  Assuming she was okay with adding anyone else to the fray—which she was not, not at the moment—there was only so much she could handle, so many mates she could juggle. When everything was said and done, she’d need time to herself, too. She wasn’t going to transform into the type of wolf who was not her own person; she would not become a slave to her mates.

  Surely she could find someone she could pull an answer from. Grab their ear and scold them like the parent she wasn’t. If it involved her, which clearly it did, she deserved to know. Addie refused to be kept in the dark about these things.

  No more lies. No more hiding the truth. No more conveniently forgetting. Addie would find out what everyone else danced around, whether she had to wring it from someone’s neck or not.

  Addie stood aside the pyre, the heat making her want to shrug off her jacket, but she refused. It was a fashion statement she would never give up, even in the desert. It was the hill she would die on, if she had to.

  Her eyes scanned the distance, and she spotted someone standing at the edge of the dock, above the clear water of Crystal Lake. Though he was far, she was able to recognize him. Good. At least she found someone who could give her an answer.

  It might not have been Dylan’s place to say, but surely the alpha could. He was the frigging alpha, the highest on the totem pole. If Forest wouldn’t tell her, she was truly out of luck.

  Addie drew herself along the shore, her boot soles dragging as she brought her feet onto the wooden dock. He stood alone, gazing at the horizon, at the setting sun. Opposite him, far across the diameter of the giant lake, the rocky outcropping stood, cutting through
the trees that circled the wilder side of the lake.

  Hands in his pockets, Forest did not look at her, even as she stood beside him at the dock’s edge. He had to have known she approached him long before then, from his hearing or his sense of smell. His blue eyes seemed darker then, as he gazed out at the lake, his square jaw tense.

  Addie looked at him for a moment, allowing herself just a quick peek at the alpha. Wearing those dark clothes, with his jet-black hair and intense azure eyes, he created a whole new level of attractiveness. Knowing, strong, calm; everything an alpha should be, coupled with muscles that would make any girl, human or shifter, swoon. A mature way about him that had come with his responsibility.

  And his loss.

  She looked away, unable to gaze at his profile any longer. He was the alpha, the man who was supposed to be her mother’s mate, once he came of age. He was closer to her mother’s age than hers. She could daydream about his looks, but there were lines that couldn’t be crossed. Especially not now, not now she knew the truth.

  The look on Forest’s face when he held the body, the pain tugging against his features. It was a sight Addie would not soon forget.

  She didn’t know if she should speak or not, but she went ahead and spoke anyway. Softly, quietly, as if the world would shatter if she spoke at a higher decibel. Addie spoke the words no one had said to her, not outright, but all the pieces were there. “She was your mate.” She heard him inhale a great breath, holding it in for a few moments before letting it out.

  “She was,” he said.

  Addie said nothing. What could she say? Saying she was sorry didn’t cut it, didn’t mean anything in the scheme of things. Who was she to him? Nothing, no one. Just another packmate. Her sympathy came years too late.

  “She was mine,” Forest whispered. “And I was hers.”

  “Did you…” Addie stopped herself, somehow already knowing a part of the answer.