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

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Undying: A Reverse Harem Shifter Romance (Crystal Lake Pack Book 2) Page 15

by Candace Wondrak


  “No. She was bare. I didn’t care. I loved her all the same,” Forest spoke, slowly closing his eyes. “Hannah never felt good enough. I thought…I thought she’d left out of some twisted ideology of duty. I thought she ran so I could choose another.” His eyelids were measured in opening, staring down at the crystal-clear water below the dock. Small bluegill swam, hovering nearby, hoping for some food. “I thought she would come back and see that I never did.”

  Oh, dear. This was…this was an intense, emotional conversation Addie was not ready for. The rawness in Forest’s voice, the way it broke when he spoke her name—how could she not tear up, standing there beside him, listening to him? She had a heart. She wasn’t a robot. And his story, Hannah’s story, it was…awful. Heart wrenching in the worst way.

  “I’m going to kill him, for what he did to her, for what he did to us,” Forest muttered, gaining a sudden anger, and Addie could feel the air around them shift into a simmering boil. His rage was quiet but palpable, and she couldn’t blame him. If their roles were reversed, she’d feel the same.

  Addie was not sure what to say. Going along with his rage didn’t feel right, so she said evenly, “You’re not alone. The pack is still here. They need you. If anyone is going to throw themselves at Clay—and stand any chance of winning—it’s going to be me.” She did not say it to argue with him, and she hoped he would not take it that way. She only stated facts.

  It was then, of course, she realized what she said.

  A suicide mission, pretty much. One she volunteered for without a hint of hesitation.

  Forest shook his head, still not looking at her. “You are untested and untrained in more ways than one, Addie.”

  Addie. Not pup. She was glad those days were behind her, at least where Forest was concerned.

  When she said nothing, he finally turned to face her, his expression a scowl. All righteous and serious, and even though he’d lost his mate, she wanted to slap the look right off him. Who was he to be angry at her? He had no right.

  “You will not throw yourself at him,” Forest used her words, and she fought the feeling that crept up inside her—her inner wolf wanted to bow and submit to his will, but she would not. “The pack will not lose you. I won’t let you. If you want to fight him, fine. Use your magic, but not alone. In this pack, no one is alone.”

  Addie let out a chortle. Was it not the exact same thing she’d said to him moments ago? Did Forest not see the irony here? Blindness must be his specialty. “You,” she said once she regained her composure, “are impossible.”

  He said nothing, returning his gaze outward, at the lake.

  Which was fine. She was done talking about it anyway, because she knew she’d get nowhere with him. Vendettas were a risky business, if movies and TV shows had anything to say about them. More often than not, they failed or ended up just as bad, if not worse than the original crime.

  She breathed in the clean air. With the way the wind blew, coming from the forest, she could not smell the pyre or the fire. No ash or dirt in the air. Just unpolluted, crisp air. With the darkening sky above them, stars appearing in vast numbers, it was an amazing sight. The sky’s darkness reflected over the lake, the sun a distant memory and the moon on its rise.

  “This place,” Addie whispered, “it’s beautiful.”

  Forest glanced at her, and he was measured in agreeing, “It is.”

  “Just so you know,” Addie started, prepared to take a verbal beating from him for saying it, but it had to be said, “if it ever comes down to you or me, if only one of us can make it out, it should be you. You’re their alpha, their leader. They need you. I’m just a girl.”

  “You are not just a girl. No one is just what they are. To say it like that downplays everything you are, what you can be,” he spoke, swiftly and severely, like she knew he would.

  “Practice that speech a lot?” Addie asked, cutting off whatever he was going to say next. She turned her head, gazing up at him. He stared at her with an intense fury that reminded her of his demeanor at the barrier, the first time, when he’d turned on her. It was almost too easy to bug him, but she would take anything over the seriousness, over the tears still prickling the edges of her eyes.

  Forest frowned, and strangely enough, the expression made her stomach do the same kind of flip it did when Maze gave her his dimpled smile. “Not nearly enough, apparently,” he muttered, still frowning, and her stomach kept knotting over itself.

  Bad, bad stomach.

  “Can I ask you something?” Addie blurted the words before she could stop them. Now was not the time to ask about what the others had mentioned. Forest was sad and depressed—kind of mad, mostly at her and what she’d said—he didn’t need to deal with any of her crap right now. But once the words were spoken, she couldn’t take them back.

  His dark blue eyes fell to the collar of her jacket as he said, “What?”

  “I…” Why could she not say more than that? Maybe it was the feeling of being under his scrutiny. Addie had to shift the focus of her stare, unable to hold his, for whatever strange reason. She returned her gaze to the lake, to the clear water. The stars peeked out of the sky now at an alarming rate. The day was officially over, night complete in its takeover of the sky, and she…

  Her breathing caught in her throat, stifled as if something blocked her airways. She stood for a moment, eyes flicking upward to the black sky, silently struggling to breathe in. A wave of nausea took her, and the next thing she knew, she was falling.

  Right into the water.

  She felt the cool water envelop her, an unwelcome hug, an embrace she could not escape. Her eyes remained open, fixated up. She could see the deck floating, growing smaller above her. Addie was sinking like a rock, and she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe—although maybe that last bit would help her, since there was no air around anyways. Air was hard to come by underwater if one wasn’t gilled.

  Addie tried to move her hand, to reach for Forest. Surely he had to realize she was not swimming up. He had to notice she sunk faster and faster, becoming more and more out of reach as the seconds ticked by.

  And then, like magic, her throat opened up, and even though she knew she shouldn’t, she inhaled a lungful, simultaneously cursing herself for the bodily need to breathe. She was underwater. The last thing she should be doing was breathing.

  Still, it’s what her body wanted, and her body got a lot more than it bargained for in the form of a rush of water flooding her lungs in a heavy, sweeping move she could not deny. Her muscles froze, no longer working. Her eyes fluttered shut.

  This was it, huh? She was going to drown? This was how she was going to die?

  Seemed wrong.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Did you think my order a request? A chilling, haunting voice spoke to her unconsciousness. So she wasn’t dead quite yet—she had a bit more time, but not much. Did you dismiss me as no longer a threat?

  Addie could not answer, because she was so close to the cold embrace of death.

  Or, because of your youth and your impetuousness, did you simply forget about me, girl? What a disappointment you are. Here I was excited, thought I had a somewhat worthy opponent, but you’re nothing, are you? Just a girl.

  Her own words haunted her, echoing in the blackness of her mind.

  Just a useless girl with power she doesn’t understand. Too bad daddy wasn’t around to teach you how to use it. Maybe then you would’ve been some fun. Alas, I’m afraid our time has come to an end. You and I will meet again very soon, and this time, the only way I’ll let you go is six feet underground.

  Clay wanted to kill her. That much had been obvious, since he was a death priest and seemed to enjoy the act of killing a tad too much—and he knew about her father. How? She was dying, wasn’t she? Drowning.

  I’ll see you very soon, Clay’s voice entered her head, irritating her brain with its sick timbre.

  Something hard tugged on her, but beyond that, she couldn’t feel a thing
. Was she moving? Was Clay swimming toward her, ready to take her right here and now? Would he drag her to the depths of hell and crack her open, body, bones and all, to discover whatever it was his master wanted him to find?

  Was this the end for her?

  She didn’t want to die. She wasn’t ready. There were so many things she still had to do…

  Addie’s thoughts began drifting away, about to shut off completely, but a hard rhythm stopped them from fading entirely. Something warm on her face, tickling nose and her chin. Her lips? More hardness against her chest, pressing on her, a bit too rough for her liking, not that she had any say in the matter.

  This was it. She was dying. Addie knew it.

  And yet…yet something bubbled inside her, water. But instead of going down, it was coming up. Addie’s eyes struggled to open as she coughed, water spilling out of her mouth. A strong hand turned her to her side, and up came some stomach bile. She couldn’t catch her breath, even though she was no longer in the water.

  Her body felt like stone, her clothes and her hair dripping wet. Her head pounded, and it took every bit of her strength to look at the shifter near her. His hand was on her back, his other gripping her arm to stop her from collapsing again. A pair of concerned blue eyes stared at her, and she nearly fell into his chest when she looked at him.

  “Forest,” she whispered, her voice bare, trembling, “I made a mistake.”

  Yeah, no shit. She kept the whole come to the clearing before nightfall thing to herself, like the biggest idiot that ever walked this earth. Newsflash for Addie: getting distracted by boys and ignoring her problems did not make them go away and vanish into thin air. Oh, and it was nightfall, so there was that.

  He shushed her, not wanting to hear her, not understanding the grimness of the situation—the situation that came about purely because Addie was a stupid idiot. “Can you walk?” Forest asked.

  She nodded once, and as she tried to get to her feet, her knees gave out, unable to hold her own weight, still feeling the aftershocks of drowning and being brought back. The rhythm on her chest had been compressions, the tickling on her face Forest’s fingers blocking her nose and his lips on hers, pushing air inside of her water-clogged lungs.

  Addie didn’t fall to the dock. Forest caught her, easily lifting her in his arms. She would’ve said something along the lines of needing to be in his arms less often, but she didn’t have the energy. It had been sapped away in the water. She could barely hold her eyelids up.

  She was so useless. Why did she think she could take on Clay? One mind link later, and she was half dead and unable to walk. No amount of practicing in two days would make up for the lifetime he had.

  “I’ll take you home,” Forest said, not even bothering to ask her about it. He must’ve thought she was just a stupid girl, like she’d said before. A stupid girl in way over her head. He took two steps toward the shore, and the twins appeared, Landon not far behind, though he looked about as shitty as Addie felt.

  Maze was the first to speak, shouting, “What happened?” He ran up to them, eyebrows creased. “Did she fall in?”

  No, she just decided to take a midnight swim with her alpha, Addie wanted to say, once again reverting to a sarcastic quip, much like Maze would, but her head pounded, her muscles hardly working. It took everything from her to keep conscious and to think.

  “I don’t know what happened, but I’m going to take her home, get some answers,” Forest said. “Stay here, make sure nothing else happens. Don’t let anyone wander off on their own.” His words were an order, from an alpha to a lowly packmate. Plus, there was the whole talking about her like she wasn’t even there thing happening, but again, Addie could say nothing.

  She was only a bystander of the conversation, not a participant.

  “Something’s not right in the air,” Forest whispered, to which the three wolves watching nodded along. Her mates. “Be on guard.” That was all he said as he carried her off the docks, around the still-burning pyre, and through the crowd of shifters. They all stopped in their conversation, watching with morbid curiosity.

  What happened to the newcomer? Where was Forest taking her? Addie heard these questions and more, and she wished she could answer them herself, but she hardly had a clue. Clay had a hold on her, somehow, even though he was nowhere nearby.

  “Forest,” Addie whispered his name, trying to tell him that it was Clay, but she could speak no other words. Who knew drowning was so tiring? Who knew almost dying was so exhausting? She didn’t, but then she never did either before, even in the murder cabin. This was a new feeling, the tiredness rattling through her bones and taking her voice with it.

  “Hush,” Forest said. “You’ll explain it to me when you can. Don’t push yourself.” He brought them through the park, carrying her as if she weighed nothing. To those muscles, she was probably as light as a feather.

  “Forest!” a male’s voice shouted.

  He stopped, standing in the middle of the road, turning to face the shifter who he’d stationed to watch Jack during the funeral. Addie tried to move her head to see, but she couldn’t. It was nothing more than dead weight on Forest’s shoulder.

  “That wolf just started going nuts,” the voice said, a tough and burly wolf standing on Forest’s front porch. “Something’s happening.”

  “That much is clear,” Forest said, too soft for anyone but Addie to hear. Louder, he said, “Keep watch. No matter what happens, don’t let him out.” He waited until the man nodded and disappeared back into the house before resuming his pace.

  Forest reached the house she shared with the brothers, footsteps heavy on the front porch. Her mother must have heard, for she flung open the door, eyes wide as she studied Addie in Forest’s arms. No time for small talk, she instantly said, “What happened?” She held the door open for them, and Forest walked in.

  “She passed out, into the lake,” he explained.

  Addie wanted to scream. That wasn’t why she passed out—everyone was missing the point that was currently hovering inches away from their faces. It should be obvious what happened, shouldn’t it? Why could she not form the words to explain? She blamed her pounding head, and the nauseous feeling in her gut.

  Sarah nodded once, as if this sort of thing happened all the time. “Bring her upstairs, I’ll get her a change of clothes—”

  Just as Forest set his foot on the first step, a howl rung out in the distance, and the alpha froze. His lips thinned, and his expression turned dark. “Something’s happening near the lake. I have to go. Take her.”

  Addie exchanged hands, although at least her mother let her walk on her own two feet. Granted, it was only with a lot of help, but she didn’t feel like a baby leaning on her mother. An improvement, though not much of one. As the alpha rushed out, she called for him, “Forest, wait!” Wait for what, exactly? Wait for her to change, to feel better so she could join him?

  No.

  Wait for her to explain it all, because she was such an utter boob. The boobiest of boobs who might’ve just made the worst decision ever by keeping the nightmare Clay had induced into her mind to herself.

  Forest glanced back at her, hardly paying any attention to her mother. “Rest now. Whatever it is, I’ll handle it.” He was out the door and gone from her sight within the next moment, and Addie felt her shoulders slump.

  It didn’t take a fortune teller or tarot cards to know this wasn’t good.

  Sarah helped her up the stairs, taking most of her weight as she practically dragged Addie along. Addie was weak, but with each step, forced as they were, she felt her strength seeping back into her body, slowly but surely. Her mother took her to the bathroom, sitting her on the toilet seat.

  “Take off your clothes while I find you a dry set,” Sarah said, hurrying to the bedroom across the hall.

  Addie stared down at her hands. Fingers trembling, she could not keep them steady. It still felt like there was a gallon of water in her lungs. If Forest wouldn’t have been the
re, if he wouldn’t have saved her, would Clay have let her die? Was he done with the whole nature of the beast thing? What use was she to him if she was dead?

  Her mother reappeared just as she finally began to shrug off her soaking jacket. “What on earth happened to you? You’ve never passed out before.”

  She was right, of course. Not once in her entire life had Addie ever lost consciousness, unless she was sleeping. But sleep didn’t really count here. Clay was breaking all the rules, it seemed.

  “I’m so stupid,” Addie muttered.

  Her mother set the clothes on the sink, helping her daughter with her water-logged garments. “You are not. Don’t say that, Addie. You know you’re not. Now tell me, what happened?” Her voice grew stronger, her parental tone making Addie flinch.

  “I had a dream, a nightmare, really. Clay told me to go to the clearing before nightfall, and I didn’t. He came to me again, when I passed out. I think I passed out because of him. He’s able to get inside my head, Mom. I can’t stop him.”

  Sarah’s eyes were like stone, hard and cold as she demanded, “And you didn’t think to tell anyone? Why didn’t you come to me? To Forest? To Maze and the others? Why did you keep this to yourself?” Shaking her head, she muttered, “You are not stupid, but you made a bad decision. One you’ll have to live with.” She turned around as Addie stripped to her underwear.

  Once she was clothed, she stood, her legs straining but holding her weight, and walked to the sink, turning on the faucet. A few swishes of water later, her mouth was decently fresh. At least she didn’t smell the bile anymore. She should really brush her teeth, but whatever was happening near the lake was undoubtedly happening because of her. She had to get there, ASAP.

  She turned to move past her mother, but Sarah blocked her way. “Where do you think you’re going? Back there? I don’t think—” She paused, cocking her head, listening to something even Addie could not hear.

  Addie strained to listen, to focus on the sounds in the far distance, outside of the house, but still, her senses were not as good as her mother’s. “What is it?”

 

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