Fate Bound (Fate Bound Trilogy Book 1)

by Madeline Freeman

  My mind spins. Beta female? That sounds pretty important. I know Jack is our alpha and that there’s also a female alpha, but does that make me next in command of the pack after them? How can these people trust me in that position when I’m brand-new here?

  I want to sit down with Jack—with anyone—and have them explain everything to me, but before I can make my request, Jack is inviting everyone to take part in a meal celebrating my arrival.

  The pack disperses in a flurry of activity, leaving me standing in place, unsure of what to do next. Mel is still beside me, and I know I should talk to her about what just happened. I hitch on a smile as I turn to her. “No hard feelings, right?”

  Mel’s lips twitch like she’s trying to smile but can’t quite manage it. “No hard feelings,” she repeats. “This is the way things are done in the pack.”

  I release a breath. She seems to be taking this well, and I’m grateful for that. “I’m glad to know we’re okay.”

  She nods. “Oh yeah, we’re okay.” But her face tightens and it’s obvious she’s doing her best to maintain composure. “In the coming days, you’ll be learning a lot about what it means to be a wolf. But I want to tell you something right now.” She takes a step closer to me and drops her voice so low it’s hard for me to hear over the bustle around us. “Your first shift will be on the full moon. And after that, you’d better watch your back, because I’m going to challenge you to a real fight and reclaim my position as beta.”

  Before I can respond, Mel spins and takes off at a run toward the woods. As she goes, her body contorts and she shifts from human to wolf.

  I sigh heavily. Great. I’ve only been a werewolf for a few hours and I’ve already made an enemy.

  Chapter Five

  If anyone notices Mel’s absence during the party that follows, no one draws attention to it.

  Jack and a few other pack members head purposefully into the woods a few minutes after she disappears and I figure they’ve gone to console her, so I’m surprised when they return carrying handfuls of twigs and armloads of fallen branches as thick as my forearm. At about the same time, others begin lifting the picnic tables that dot the hill behind the meeting house and move them to the flat expanse on the other side of the road.

  I stand awkwardly off to the side, not sure exactly what I should be doing. Part of me wants to help lift tables, but no one is struggling. Given the speed and ease with which people move along with them, I get the feeling if it weren’t for their awkward size, two people wouldn’t be needed for the relocation process.

  Maggie steps beside me, quietly watching as the last of the tables cross the road. “Thanks for not choosing me to fight.”

  I offer a small smile. “It didn’t really seem fair. No offense.”

  “None taken,” she says, her voice soft. “We should head over there. Everyone will want to congratulate you.”

  Without waiting for my reply, she starts down the hill. I follow in her footsteps, even though I’m not sure she’s right. “What happens now?”

  She glances over her shoulder. “A celebration, of course.”

  “Because I’m the new beta female?” I’m not sure how I feel about being celebrated for upsetting someone else in the pack.

  “No, silly. Because you’re one of us. We don’t get new members often, so when we do, people tend to get a little excited.”

  “Excited” turns out to be an understatement. By the time we make it to the clearing, all the tables are set up in concentric half circles around a large ring of stones the size of my head. Their tasks finished, the pack members swarm me. This isn’t like it was when they introduced themselves not an hour earlier in the meeting house. This time, I’m met with broad smiles and bone-crushing hugs. They keep their congratulations short, but I get the sense that’s only because everyone is waiting for a turn.

  A warm sensation bubbles up inside me and I smile so much my cheeks start to hurt. A few times when I arrived at a new foster home, the parents would make a show of hugging me and welcoming me to the family, but it always felt like a show put on for my benefit. But not this. This feels real.

  Lillie is at the end of the line, and her grin is a match for mine. She holds out her hand and I take it instinctively. “Let’s grab a seat.”

  “For what?” I ask, following as she tugs me toward a table toward the edge of the half circle. As we walk, my eyes drift to the ring of stones. Not everyone congratulated me moments ago. Jack and two other guys are arranging wood into a teepee shape within the stone boundary. A twinge of disappointment courses through me. Shouldn’t the pack alpha have welcomed me the way the others did?

  Lillie points to a spot several yards beyond the wood pile where Fiona and Marisol stoop, lining what look like sticks up on the ground. Further back are four more people—two guys and two girls—kneeling on the ground, but whatever they’re doing seems unrelated to whatever Fiona and Marisol are up to. “It’s time for an excuse for some fun.”

  Before I can ask what she means, Fiona and Marisol stand up straight, holding what looks like a short black baseball bat in front of them. A split second later, the ends of their sticks blaze to light, spitting sparks onto the surrounding grass. Marisol nods almost imperceptibly and the two begin spinning the flaming sticks in perfect unison. I watch in awe as the fiery tips trace circles in the air.

  Whoops rise up from those seated around me. When the girls throw the blazing batons high into the air and spin before catching them and twirling them again, shouts and whistles sound.

  I’m too stunned to make any noise. My stomach tightens with anticipation and dread each time they toss the flaming rods. When they each kick up a second baton, and then a third, I hold my breath, hoping they don’t miss as they juggle them through the air.

  When their routine ends, I suck in a breath for the first time in what feels like minutes. When I bring my hands together to clap, I find the skin is clammy with sweat.

  “That was amazing,” I say to no one in particular.

  “They’ve been waiting for a reason to do that routine for about a year now,” says Maggie. She must have slid onto the bench across from me during the show, because I don’t remember her arrival.

  “Wow.” I’m not sure what else to say. My eyes slide toward the teepee of sticks and are rewarded with a glimpse of Jack. He crouches beside it, his gaze fixed on something in front of him.

  Lillie grabs my knee and squeezes it. “I think they’re almost ready.”

  A glance at her reveals she’s staring in the same direction as Jack. The four people who knelt on the ground before Fiona and Marisol’s routine are standing about ten yards away from the edge of the woods. The air is tense with anticipation, but I can’t figure out why.

  A long, shrill moan cuts through the air, followed by a loud pop, and an explosion of color erupts over the clearing.

  Fireworks.

  A lump forms in my throat as more explosions sound. Green, purple, blue, gold. Glittering starbursts fill the sky, dazzling me with their beauty.

  They’re doing this to celebrate me.

  I do my best to swallow, but it’s difficult. I try to tell myself not to get too worked up. After all, it’s my first day here. It’s possible they set off displays like this regularly. But something in the back of my mind fights back. Even if that were true, it wouldn’t negate the fact that right now, they’re for me.

  The show goes on for a long time, and I lose myself in it. I don’t remember the last time I saw a show like this. Usually the only fireworks I see are the ones from a quarter mile away—and even then, I only glimpse the ones that peek over the trees.

  When the finale hits its crescendo, I find myself on my feet, cheering and clapping with those around me. And when the last bits of color flutter toward the ground, a bubble blooms in my chest—one so large I’m not sure my body can contain it.

  I belong here.

  No sooner do I take my seat again than new color blazes into view. The bonfire, l
ong since built and dormant, flames to life, towering over Jack who stands beside it, smiling in the content way of a little boy at a job well done. When he turns away, part of me hopes to catch his eye, but he spins to the meeting house and strides toward it without a glance in my direction.

  “So, what’d you think?” asks a voice from behind me.

  I turn to see the pack’s alpha female and beta male, Skye and Sawyer, taking seats on the bench beside Maggie.

  “It was amazing,” I say. The words aren’t enough to convey all I feel, but they’re all I can come up with. “Is there more?”

  Skye smiles indulgently. “There might be. If we get enough drinks in Sawyer, he might do some karaoke.”

  Sawyer snorts. “That happened one time a decade ago. Let it go already.”

  “Ooh,” says Lillie, banging on the table. “You’d make a fantastic Elsa.”

  Lillie and Skye go back and forth for a few minutes, naming other songs they’d love to see Sawyer perform. Maggie only manages to get one suggestion in, but even then she blushes and gives him an apologetic smile.

  Then the conversation turns to business. Sawyer and Skye begin asking Lillie what I know so far about being a werewolf. They share a look and shake their heads before launching into what sounds like a lecture. There’s so much information I feel like I should be taking notes. Skye says after I shift for the first time at the full moon, I’ll be able to shift at will. She looks me dead in the eye when she tells me it will hurt, but she promises it will get better the more I do it, and I believe her. Sawyer is the one who drops the bomb about my increased lifespan.

  “You’re immortal,” he says, a grin spreading across his face.

  Skye gives him a playful slap on the shoulder. “You have to stop announcing it like that.”

  “He just likes to see the shocked look on people’s faces when he says it,” Lillie insists.

  I shake my head all the way through the exchange. “Immortal?” I ask finally. “You mean I can’t die?”

  Skye sucks her teeth and slaps Sawyer’s arm again. “There are still things that can kill you. But our bodies are much less vulnerable than they were when we were human.”

  “You’ll need to avoid silver,” Maggie says. “It’ll burn your skin if you touch it, and if someone cuts you with it, the wound will take longer to heal.”

  I nod. I’m not sure I’ve ever touched anything made of silver in my whole life, and I don’t see that changing now. “Got it. Anything else?”

  Sawyer shrugs. “Avoid letting people rip off your head or tear out your heart, and you’re pretty much good.”

  I raise an eyebrow, not sure whether he’s joking. I don’t have a good enough read on him yet to know when he’s being serious. “I’ve been able to avoid it so far, so I guess I’ll be all right.”

  Sawyer tips his head back and laughs so hard some of the people at the neighboring picnic tables glance at him.

  Skye rolls her eyes. “Don’t mind him; he’s crazy.” But she smiles when she says it, and I get the sense Sawyer is a guy who likes to laugh. I suppose his sense of humor is something I’ll have to get used to since we now share the position of beta.

  Before long, Skye and Sawyer leave the table to join up with some others. Maggie excuses herself as well, leaving Lillie and me alone at the table. I don’t say anything for a long while, but she doesn’t seem to expect me to. I’m thankful for her quiet companionship.

  I scan the clearing. Eyes flicker in my direction every once in a while and Lillie assures me they’re under strict instructions not to overwhelm me tonight. If I want to chat, I can venture out and make conversation, but if I want to take it all in, no one will bother me.

  Jack has long since returned from the meeting house, and he’s stationed at a table on the other side of the fire passing out marshmallows for s’mores. Sawyer approaches and slaps a hand on Jack’s shoulder. The two chat for a moment before Jack’s eyes flit in my direction. I look away quickly, not wanting him to know I’ve been staring. My stomach flip-flops and my skin tingles. I’m not sure I like the effect Jack has on me, and I try again to explain it away. It’s just because he brought me here, because he’s my alpha now. But the excuses don’t quite ring true enough.

  If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume the pack members were simply friends at a bonfire. Everyone looks to be around the same age. Sawyer definitely appears to be at the older end of the spectrum—maybe in his mid-thirties—and I’m certainly at the younger end. But I suppose looks can be deceiving.

  I turn to Lillie. “How old are you? You said you were turned in the sixties, right?”

  She ducks her head, tucking her long blonde hair behind her ears. “I was twenty-four then.”

  I press my lips together. “So, once you turn, you just stop aging?”

  “I’ve heard it just slows down considerably. But I’m still pretty young so far as immortality is concerned.”

  “And what about…” I want to know more about Jack, but I don’t want to make it obvious. “Sawyer?”

  Lillie raises an eyebrow as if she knows exactly what I was thinking. “Sawyer’s actually younger than I am, if you believe it.”

  I’m sure she could go on, but she doesn’t. I don’t want to ask about Jack specifically because I don’t want her to think I’m into him, but then I figure wanting to know more about my alpha is perfectly reasonable. My curiosity finally wins out. “What do you know about Jack? What’s his story?”

  The smile that flits across her face is all I need to know that she’s picked up on my interest in our pack leader, but at least she has the decency not to mention it. “I don’t know a lot. He doesn’t like to dwell on the past. But what I do know is he’s old—over a hundred, easy. He’s among the oldest in the pack. His mom was Native American and his dad was from France. That’s really all I know about his life before he was turned. He’s been alpha of this pack for about seventy years.”

  I let out a low whistle. Seventy years is a long time. Can Jack really be more than a hundred years old? It seems crazy—but I suppose it’s no crazier than anything else that’s happened today.

  The sky is entirely dark by the time the party starts breaking up. While it’s clear there are a handful who will keep going for several more hours, exhaustion hits me hard and fast. I let out a big yawn, and as if he’s sensed it, Jack turns from the people he’s talking to and strides over to me.

  “You ready to call it a night?” he asks.

  Heat floods my face at his attentiveness. “Am I that obvious?” I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth. My tone is far too flirtatious. I really need to watch myself.

  Jack does his best to suppress a grin. “I can show you to your place if you like.”

  I stand, and so does Lillie. I glance at her, raising my eyebrows and urging her with my eyes to mention her rooming situation. When she gives the slightest shake of her head, I sigh. “Are there any extra rooms in the house I’ll be staying in?”

  Jack’s brow furrows. “Extra rooms? Of course. You’ll be staying in one of the unused houses. Why do you ask?”

  It’s obvious Lillie isn’t going to say anything, so I come up with a reason that’s close enough to the truth. “I was just wondering if Lillie could come stay with me. I’d feel better having a friend nearby.”

  His eyes flick from her to me. “The alphas and betas usually live alone. It’s not a rule, but we typically like having some space to ourselves. That being said, you’re welcome to have a roommate if you’d like one. You and Lillie can talk it out in the morning.”

  Lillie’s lips quirk into a smile and she darts forward to give me a quick embrace. “Thank you,” she whispers. She bids us goodbye after releasing me, and Jack leads the way down the hill.

  There’s a series of dirt roads throughout the camp, and Jack and I walk in silence down one of them. Now that the sun has set, the moon’s silvery light spills over everything. I’ve never given much thought to its cycles before, bu
t now I can’t help wondering when it will next be full. I could ask Jack. I should definitely say something. The silence is making my skin tingle. I keep watching him out of the corner of my eye, studying the way the moonlight highlights the lines of his face. If we don’t talk about something—anything—soon, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop myself from grabbing his face and kissing him.

  A shiver runs down my back. What is happening to me? I’ve had crushes before, of course, but I’ve never been the kind of girl whose head spins with thoughts of making out with a near stranger. But Jack isn’t like anyone I’ve ever met. I’m drawn to him in a way I’ve never experienced before.

  I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind: “So, you’re pretty old, huh?” I fight the urge to slap my hand to my face as soon as the words are out of my mouth, but Jack just smiles.

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  I try to come up with a plausible reason for bringing it up. “Sawyer mentioned the whole immortality thing, and I’m still trying to wrap my head around it, is all.” I take in a breath, hoping I’ve managed to smooth over any werewolf social faux pas I may have made. If I’ve offended Jack in any way, his face doesn’t show it.

  I wish he’d say something. The silence is making my mind go to dark places that involve me learning what his curls feel like as they slide between my fingers. Why am I so attracted to him? There’s the obvious answer, of course—he’s completely gorgeous. And the look in his eyes as he watched me dying is permanently etched in my mind. But there’s a deeper draw that I’m having trouble understanding.

  “So, what am I supposed to do with eternal life?” It seems a natural extension from my last brain-vomit, so I decide to ride the wave.

  He shrugs and I wonder if I’m not the first newly turned wolf to ask the same question. “Anything,” he says after a moment. “I’ve done the college thing a few times. I’ve had business ventures. Sold real estate for a while. I’ve done investment banking on several occasions.”

  For some reason, his answer surprises me. The response is so… normal. I’m not sure what I was expecting. Maybe something about climbing mountains or visiting the Seven Wonders of the World—not something quite so sensible. So human. “You mean I could go to college if I want?”