by Colt, Shyla
Their powers reached out and wrapped around her. Packs had their own brand of magic. They were, after all, magical beings at the core, despite their intense connection to nature. Ending her journey at the opening flanked by the Alpha and Isiah, she walked between the two of them. They escorted her to a set of steps carved from stone. Turning toward the group gathering, she held up the chalices as Isiah resumed his steady drumbeat. Once they were all lined up, she turned to stand by the statue of Odin with his wolves carved in Cedar.
Bowing low and reverently, she spilled a small bit of the fine whiskey at the base of the statue and straightened. The Alpha approached, taking the chalices from her, and finished pouring the offerings over the statue. Smoke rose up as if he’d extinguished a fire. He had the theatrics down, she’d give him that.
He turned dramatically. “Odin has heard us.” Deafening cheers rose up.
She cringed internally. The Alpha stood taller as their hero worship inflated him. She ground her teeth, biting her tongue to keep from speaking out. Look pretty, stay under the radar, and remember this will all be over soon.
“Today we have much to celebrate. It’s been revealed to me in dreams. My reign will be coming to an end.”
Whispers rose. The scent of fear and apprehension soured the air. She wrinkled her nose. Bile crept up her throat like slimy slugs.
“I told you,” Isiah whispered in her ear. The self-satisfied purr made her claws itch to be released. She wanted to rake her nails down his handsome face.
“Don’t worry, my friends.” He waved his hands in a downward motion. “This won’t happen all at once! It’ll be little by little. Isiah is a strong wolf who knows what needs to be done to survive the tough winter ahead. I will be elevating to my next position among us as Spiritual Advisor. You can come to me with your worries and concerns, and I’ll continue to steer White Creek in the right direction.”
Less work and more praise and worship for yourself. You’ll let your little psycho do the dirty work because he enjoys it.
“This is all in preparation for the times to come. We will be even more vigilant than we were before. Now is the time for strength and bravery.” He smiled, expertly steering them away from the source of their panic. “We all need to do our part, pull our weight, and ascend to the best version of ourselves for the pack.”
She felt the Alpha’s gaze lock onto her like lasers. Message received, Alpha.
He was done with her defiance. Most wolves her age were mated. Her position had protected her, until now. They were expected to keep the pack healthy. That meant breeding. Horror struck her. Did they expect her to lay down and start creating pack members with Isiah?
Isiah slithered his way beside her and kissed her cheek. It felt like a betrayal, a Judas kiss before she was bartered off for coin.
“Come, we will celebrate the changes together,” Ian crowed, soaking up his final days as Alpha as the crowd moved forward like a wave.
Her mother preened. Joss wondered for the millionth time how much of her joy was authentic.
“Smile pretty, Moon Maiden, your adoring public approaches.” The tentacle arm returned, wrapping around her waist and constricting like a snake.
“It was a beautiful ceremony, Moon Maiden.” The elderly silver-haired woman patted her hand.
“Thank you, Mrs. Constance. I simply put the energy you lent me back into the environment.”
“She’s so gracious, Raymond. Won’t she make a beautiful queen?” Mrs. Constance asked.
“I happen to agree with you,” Isiah chimed in.
Constance patted Isiah’s cheek. “So sweet. You’ve only had eyes for her all of this time.”
“You should tell her that.” He pressed his head against hers. “I don’t think she believes me.”
Raymond gave Isiah’s shoulder a squeeze. “The good ones always give you a run for your money, son.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Isiah said as the couple moved on.
“Look,” he cooed, hugging her. “They think we’re cute.”
“There is no we,” Joss whispered quietly out of the side of her mouth.
“That’s not what they think, and we know how much perception shapes reality.”
More well-wishers approached, preventing her from responding. They gushed over them, ingratiating themselves to Isiah, like wolves showing their soft bits in deference to his upcoming position. The line of people thinned as the party started. Beers were brought out, and music began to pour through the compound speakers.
He pulled her to him. “Which name do you like best, wifey … mate, or maybe queen?”
“Fuck off, Stark,” she said through her teeth.
He chuckled. “Oh, we’ll do that, too.” He licked his lips.
“Over my dead body.”
“It’d be over your mother’s actually.”
She growled.
“Stop teasing one another, and mingle,” the Alpha commanded.
Grateful to escape Isiah’s clutches, she pulled from his lax grip, and wove her way deeper into the crowd, pausing to chat occasionally before she found her way away from the celebration toward the path that led to her home. The die was cast. She had to choose the moves that would guide her to freedom while keeping her sanity in check.
* * *
Joss ran her fingers over the deep yellow, downy soft petals surrounding the dark brown center. Sunflowers were her favorite, and White Creek Country Store was known for its massive blooms. The fertile soil yielded monster stalks yearly, and people bought them by the bundle. The smooth butcher’s block counter on the island was clean and ready to create upon. Its three shelves were stocked with floral foam, twine, butcher paper, and ribbons. They kept things rustic and simple, but it was no less beautiful. The superior quality of the flowers spoke for itself.
White Creek County Store was a haven. A safe place where she briefly escaped the madness that descended the moment she entered the compound. For at least eight hours, she was free to mingle with the outside world, and pretend to be one of them. Even more so, the floral station was a slice of heaven on earth. Buckets full of freshly cut flowers yielded a heady scent. Their bright splashes of colors never failed to improve her day.
Slowly positioning the sunflowers in their black display bucket, she milked the re-stock for all it was worth. Mingling with her co-workers wasn’t high on her priority list. Here, she fled from the whispers and stares that dogged her every step since the ceremony weeks earlier. People waffled between kissing her rump and avoiding her like the plague. This is what it feels like to be a pariah.
“Are you done hiding among flora and fauna, Thumbelina?” The silky alto of her best friend, Brook, made her sigh. Joss met the steady light-brown gaze of her narrowed, wide-set eyes fringed with dark lashes. Arms crossed beneath her bosoms, and hip cocked, Brook embodied the word fierce. Her pointed toe black boot tapped against the wooden floor. Black skinny jeans hugged her lithe six-foot-one frame.
Joss shrugged and stepped away from the sunflowers. “The store needed restocking.”
“For over two hours, though?” Brook replied with a deep frown.
“I stopped to help customers, too.” The excuse sounded flimsy to her own ears. Regardless, she clung to it like a drowning victim clinging to a life preserver.
“Uh huh.” Brook pursed her thin lips. “Well, it’s just us now, Rapunzel, so you can climb down from your tower and be straight with me.”
“I wasn’t aware I was crooked,” Joss mumbled.
“Cute, Joss. Real cute.” Brook shook her head.
Joss’s eyes darted around the tiny store in quest of a distraction. The six aisles were neatly arranged. Handmade jam and jelly jars lined the shelves, label out. The floor was clear of any debris and shone from a fresh coat of lemon-scented wood polish that filled the air. The clean smell blended with the odor of freshly brewed coffee, and her mouth watered.
“You’ve been busy.”
“I have. Now, are you read
y to talk about what’s eating you alive? Or do we get to endure more uncomfortable silences and brooding? You’re going to give your forehead wrinkles if you keep it up.” Brook tapped her forehead.
Joss dropped her head and allowed her shoulders to slump. “Why voice what you already know?”
“Humor me.”
“You heard the Alpha. He all but announced my betrothal to Isiah.”
“Almost isn’t the same as did, Joss,” Brook said gently.
“In a normal, healthy, functioning world, yes. Not so much in White Creek.” Joss held up a hand. “You know I’m right.”
“Most are afraid of the impending change. People want to know where they stand. Stark hasn’t fooled all of us. We see his love for cruelty and manipulation.”
“And yet, they’d marry me off in a heartbeat to save their own hide.”
“That’s human nature, babe. They think you’ll be able to temper that mean streak. You forget one important fact, though.”
“What’s that?” Joss asked glumly.
“You have to give consent. Nothing can happen otherwise.”
She bit the inside of her lip.
“You’re not thinking about saying yes, are you, Joss?” Brook asked, horrified.
“There’s a lot more at stake than you realize, Brook. This is about so much more than just me.” She exhaled.
“You’d die inside. That’s all I need to know about this situation.” Brook’s outrage warmed her from the inside out. She’d found a true friend in the sassy pack member. The bell above the door rang. “We’re finishing this talk later,” Brook warned before turning to smile at the family coming in. “Welcome to White Creek Country Store. How can we help you today?” Brook asked.
Forty-five minutes away from the compound, this store was one of their many fronts. The small town saw them as a commune of hippies who strove to live off the land. While odd, they were deemed harmless.
The rumble of a truck pulling up outside signaled more to restock. Joss hurried out the front door, eager to do busy work that would keep her mind occupied. Isiah opened the passenger door. Her excitement wilted like a flower with no water and too much sun.
“Sissy,” he cried, waving madly like a toddler who’d just learned the meaning of hello.
“Isiah,” she said blandly.
He lifted the aviators and pushed them into his hair. “Long day?”
“It is now,” she said sweetly.
“Careful,” His eyes darkened with malice. A moment later he was grinning. His duality scared her most of all. He was unstable.
Shoving her resentment down, she straightened her shoulders and walked toward him, accepting his hug.
“Did you miss your big brother?” His breath blew her hair away from her face.
“The same as I always do.”
“Such a clever little tongue. I can’t wait to put it to better use.” He squeezed her tighter than necessary, and then released her. “We brought you goodies.”
“And I appreciate it.” She watched as the stocky, russet-haired beta climbed down from the truck, and walked around to the back. “Hey, James.”
“Hi, Joss. How’s work been today?”
“Steady.”
James grasped the hand, turned, and raised the liftgate.
“I’ll get everything ready for you in the storage room,” Joss said, swiftly excusing herself. She walked into the store stiffly with her heart lodged in her throat.
“What’s going on?” Brook asked.
“Our delivery arrived along with the mayor of crazy town,” Joss whispered.
Brook’s jaw dropped. “Jesus, he doesn’t quit, does he?”
“It’s not like he’s all there.” Joss tapped her temple as she swept past Brook and into the back room of the store. Breaking down the few boxes left over from restock, she made a clear space for the new product. Isiah entered the back room alone and closed the door behind him.
“Where’s James?” Joss asked.
“I asked him to give us a minute.” He shrugged.
“Why?” she asked cautiously.
He shoved his hands in his front pockets. “’Cause I wanted to ask you something.”
She studied him. He seemed jovial enough. The boyish grin turned his lips up at the corner, and his brown eyes sparkled with light-hearted humor. This is good Isiah.
“Okay?”
“Go on a date with me?”
“What?” She spun away from the table.
“A date. You, me, romantic setting.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
Paralyzed by uncertainty, she studied him carefully. Was this a trick? Some test she needed to pass? “And if I say no?”
“I wouldn’t.” The steely tone silenced her sarcastic response. “Why do you continue to fight this? It’s going to happen one way or another. Why not make it easier for us both?”
She swallowed, to moisten the desert-like cavern of her mouth. Her gut told her rejection now would be a bad idea. “When?”
He stood up straight. “I’m glad you reconsidered your position.”
Like I have a choice?
“Do not read too much into this,” she cautioned.
“I’ll pick you up tonight at eight.” He stepped closer. “I’m going to change your mind about me.” He brushed a kiss onto her forehead and stepped away. A knock sounded at the door, and Isiah answered it.
“Let’s get everything loaded in and leave this beautiful woman to her work.” Isiah winked, and hell froze over.
Sickened by her choices, she worked mechanically, helping them settle the produce and dry goods before bidding them good-bye.
“Are you okay?” Brook appeared in the door frame soon after they departed.
She sighed. “I’ve officially hit rock bottom.”
“What did he do?” Brook’s eye flashed.
“Asked me on a date.”
“Oh my God! You had me worried.” Brook shoved her gently.
“I said yes.”
“Why the hell would you do that?” Brook squawked
“Because I was afraid of what he’d do if I said no. God. I used to be so good at managing him. Now it’s out of control.” She spread her arms out, shrugging off her frustration.
“You need to choose a mate, Joss.”
Joss balked at the word. “No.”
“Then what?” Brook challenged. “Because you have to do something everyone will understand and respect. You know how the pack operates.”
“So, I guess I’m screwed then.” Joss wrapped her arms around herself.
“Stop. There are plenty of strong, attractive wolves capable and willing to provide for you. You’re in a better position than any other she-wolf. You have your pick.”
“None of them are for me,” Joss insisted.
“Once you go into heat, you’re going to lose the ability to choose with a clear mind. Why are you so stubborn?” Brook threw her hands in the air, letting them fall down and slap her thighs.
“Because none of the wolves are for me,” she snapped
Brook jerked back. “And how do you know this?”
Joss glanced away.
“This is about him, isn’t it? Your dream man?”
“I didn’t say that.” Joss had never been one for fairy tales and dreams of happily ever after, but the man she saw in her sleeping hours felt more real than anything else in her life ever had after her father’s death. How could she feel so connected to a person she’d never met? She’d asked herself all of the questions. What if he wasn’t real? What if he was? Would they ever meet? None of the answers ever deterred her.
Brook rolled her eyes. “You didn’t have to.”
“All I want is the ability to choose my own path. We all deserve that. I’m going to fight for it.”
“Even if it’s a fruitless endeavor?” Brook asked softly.
Joss balled her fists. “Especially then. If no one ever challenged the status quo, nothing would ever change.” Brook’s right.
I need to come up with a plan. It just won’t look like anything she’d envision. She wouldn’t play by the rules when they were made by a fervent, self-inflated narcissist who had a messiah complex. Playing the game would buy her time. So, she’d go on the date, make nice, and find a way to ensure he’d never get his slippery hands on her.
Chapter Two
Joss slipped knee-high black boots on over her black skinny jeans and stood from the bed. She moved into her bathroom and fluffed her curls. Light make-up enhanced her natural beauty and allowed her to look presentable without giving the impression that she’d tried. Is this what I’ve been reduced to? Making deals with the devil and sacrificing my own life for my mother’s? Balling her fists, she forced herself to peer in the mirror.
She had her father’s eyes and her mother’s facial structure. Taller than her mother’s five-foot-eight, she’d never reached her father’s six-foot-two. With hair a few shades darker than her father’s strawberry blonde, it struck the perfect balance between her mother’s ash blonde and her father’s bright red locks. Recognizing the pieces of her that came from her parents comforted her. It gave her something of her father she could hold on to and ensured she never forgot him, regardless of the years that passed.
There was a time when she’d been proud of the person she viewed in the mirror, and certain her father would be, too. Today, she saw an empty shell. Her reflection showed a woman who’d allowed herself to become a pawn. Ashamed, she peered away. Her refusal meant her mother’s demise. What other choices could be made? What about your own?
There were a million ways to die. The passing away of the physical form was but one end. Her soul had been strangled and starved for years. Yet, somehow this felt like the final death rattle. Cavorting with the devil’s minion of her own freewill. It was a surrender of sorts, ground lost that she might not be able to regain. This situation held no easy answers.