Crystal Lake Pack: The Complete Series: A Reverse Harem Shifter Romance

by Candace Wondrak

I had to stay, to defeat Clay, for the guys, to have a sense of unity, of family I never had before. But most of all, I had to stay for myself. This was the start of my new life, and I knew it was going to be a wild ride.

  Undying

  Chapter One – Addie

  I carried a plate in one hand, a slab of meat jiggling on it as I moved, and in my other I held a bowl of water. It was some kind of steak, red and pink and bloody—because I didn’t cook it. I figured he’d like it better raw. If I was a wolf, I figured I’d enjoy it better like that, too.

  Then again, when I was in my human form, it might be another story, because the mere thought of eating any meat that wasn’t cooked disgusted me.

  Either way, I didn’t have to worry about it much. I wasn’t going to shift, not going to truly unlock my inner wolf until the whole situation with Clay was taken care of. Nobody knew when he was going to show his face again, but he would. He had to, if I really was the key to unlocking the nature of the beast, though whatever the heck that meant remained to be seen. The death priest wasn’t a huge fan of giving straight up answers, and I was too new to this to know better.

  Beneath my jean jacket, my shoulders itched. My skin still crawled when I thought of Clay and what he’d done. What he would have done to Landon if I hadn’t gotten him out. Such thoughts were best left forgotten, but it was still so fresh in my memory. It’d only been hours ago, after all.

  Hours. That’s it.

  A death priest. Who knew those things existed? I certainly didn’t. I didn’t even know shifters existed, let alone the fact I was one—or, really, half of one—until Henry and Maze stumbled into my life not too long ago.

  God, my life truly had changed drastically in such a short amount of time, hadn’t it? Not only did I learn I wasn’t human, but I’d also learned neither was my father. I was part shifter, part witch-slash-warlock, which somehow made me super appealing to the crazies like Clay. Yeah, that part I wasn’t so excited about.

  But being a shifter? At first, I’d disliked the thought of not being human. I’d hated Henry—still did—for thinking I would go along with them and choose the pack. But after meeting the pack, and after a heck of a lot of inner angst, I had realized the pack wasn’t so bad. Being with Maze and Dylan wasn’t as awful as I first thought. Landon? Sure, we might’ve bonded a bit during our stint in the murder cabin, but it was difficult for me to forget his first words.

  Not even that pretty.

  Yeah, it would be a little while before I forgot that, even if he didn’t mean it. Even if he was just lashing out, he had no right to say something so rude. If Landon wanted to be with me like the pack had planned, along with Maze and Dylan, then he had to make it up to me.

  How? I had no clue. I had never quite encountered a situation like this before.

  Oh, how normal my life had been, until the day I got my first C-minus and attacked my professor with a floating textbook. Granted, I was now aware I should’ve controlled my anger, but at the time I had no idea I was magical in the least. I’d thought I’d hallucinated, and the school board and Dean had reacted swiftly and harshly by expelling me, regardless of my statement that I didn’t know what happened.

  Saying I didn’t attack someone and beat them into unconsciousness when said person and I were the only ones left in the lecture hall? Apparently, it was a hard-to-believe story. Unverifiable.

  It was ridiculous when I remembered how much my life had changed from a stupid C-minus. Until then, I had always been an overachiever when it came to school. My GPA was always sparkling and insanely high. I’d studied for tests weeks in advance, until I had my notebooks memorized. I’d had a roomie I didn’t really talk to and friends who left for out of state colleges, who never returned any of my texts anymore.

  Here, in the pack, I felt at home. I had friends, or whatever Maze and Dylan were. I had people who would do anything to protect me—not like I needed loads of protection, because I was firmly in the twenty-first century belief that sisters could do it for themselves. But, still. It was nice, knowing people were there for me, regardless of whether or not I accidentally hit my professor with a magically-backed book.

  I did wonder though, if Henry and Maze would’ve forced my mom to drive to the college and bring me home even if I hadn’t gotten expelled. Henry seemed to be the take charge and give orders kind of man, and he was my mom’s father. I totally understood why Sarah had run from the pack just by meeting Henry. He was kind of a dick. Being seventy-something years old did not give him the right to act however he pleased and say whatever he wanted.

  Either way, it didn’t matter now. I was here, and I’d decided to stay. I probably would’ve decided the same, even if I did have a college to get back to, even if I did have friends around, because being here, with them, just felt right. It was a feeling I could hardly put to words. Maybe it was my inner wolf guiding my actions, now that she and I knew each other as well as we could without actually shifting.

  Being here, learning how the pack operated, it was going to take time. I’d have to learn while somehow practicing my magical mumbo jumbo in preparation for when I met Clay again. It would help to have someone here who knew more about magic. The wolves knew of it, but they couldn’t help me control it, couldn’t help me practice and get stronger. It…would’ve been the perfect job for my father, if he would’ve still been alive.

  Alas, alive he was not, so I would fumble around and pray I stumbled upon a way to beat Clay at his own game. Preferably beat him without using any death magic or spells, because I did not want to start turning into a living skeleton, like I’d witnessed on him.

  The mere thought made me shiver.

  I walked to the door leading to the basement, but I was stopped by a bruised, wounded wolf who stood easily a foot taller than me. Definitely taller than Dylan and Maze, Landon was a bit older than the twins, and older than me.

  His hair was a light, chestnut brown, long enough to be shaggy but not so much as to cover his eyes, which were a vibrant, lively blue, a darker azure than the sky on a cloudless day. He had a bit of stubble, due to being locked up in Clay’s crazy cabin for a while, but other than the patched-up injuries littering his body, he looked good.

  I would never admit it aloud, though. Handsome or not, he was kind of a jerk.

  And, really, every single shifter in this place was a model in his or her own right. Even Henry and the other elders I’d met didn’t look as old as they were. Shifters put models and Hollywood actors to shame.

  His dark eyebrows were furrowed, and Landon stepped between me and the basement door, tilting his head down at me as if I’d suddenly grown a third eye. Like I was the crazy one. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice as tough as it could be, considering the state of his body.

  I glanced at the plate of meat and the bowl of water in my hands. Wasn’t it obvious? Did spelling it out make him feel better or something? When I looked up at him, meeting his eyes, I noticed his nose was slightly crooked, as if it’d been broken in the past.

  I would be a liar if I said I didn’t like the semi-crookedness of it. I kind of had a thing for noses. It was my one body part, the thing I focused on while judging a man’s attractiveness, at least on his face. Other than symmetry and its general look.

  A man with a tiny nose like mine? Not attractive to me.

  Overcoming the urge to ask about his nose and how it’d been broken, I replied, “What’s it look like?”

  “I’m kind of hoping it’s not what it looks like,” Landon spoke, crossing his arms over his chest—both impressive and muscled, in spite of their numerous wounds. Some of those wounds were claw marks, along with a couple that looked like teeth marks. It made sense he would not want me being nice to the stranger, but I would be damned if I let him control me.

  Just because I decided to join the pack did not give these guys the right to dictate what I did and did not do.

  “Who knows if Clay was feeding him,” I said. “I’m not going to let Jac
k starve—”

  “You say his name like you know him. You don’t. He’s a stranger, and he looked more than happy when he attacked me in the forest and brought me to that freak.” That freak being Clay.

  I knew Jack helped Clay, but I didn’t know he’d actually been the one to do the kidnapping. I’d assumed Clay used a spell to mask his scent, and then he partially opened the barrier to let them inside. Then again, I couldn’t be sure, because magic was still so new to me. It had to have rules like everything else, but only God knew whether I’d discover what those rules were.

  It would be so much easier with a teacher who knew all about magic…but now wasn’t the time for whining. The whining could come later, when no one’s life was at stake, when I was not wanted by a cruel, sadistic man.

  “He was being controlled,” I said. I didn’t want to constantly have to jump to Jack’s defense, but I knew it would take time for the others to trust him. Heck, maybe trust would never come. There were a lot of crosses in that clearing. A lot of shifters who had lost their lives to Clay and his death magic. “You can’t hold him accountable for—”

  “I can,” he cut in, blue gaze narrowing. A sneer seemed to be Landon’s favorite expression, the one he wore ninety-nine percent of the time. “And I will. You weren’t there, Addie. You didn’t see the excitement in his eyes. That wolf is as crazy as Clay.”

  I knew I wasn’t there the entire time, so I couldn’t actually defend Jack against those accusations. Still, starving him did not feel right.

  “I won’t let him starve, Landon. If you don’t like it, tattle on me to Forest. Until then, please step aside so I can go downstairs.” Currently Forest was out of the house, so if Landon was going to run off and tell on me, it would at least buy me some time.

  For a while we silently glared at each other. I was not about to back down, and I would never kowtow to Landon and let him control what I did. My will was iron, harder than steel. My will was like a diamond, unbendable and un-scratch-able. Just because my wolfish side wanted to roll over to my back and let him have me in ways I’d never been had before didn’t mean…

  That was completely off-subject here, I scolded my mind, and I should not be thinking about such things.

  Inappropriate to the extreme. I’d just met Landon. I’d just met them all. Just because my wolf was in heat did not mean I was. I would be able to hold myself back. For my own dignity. For…whatever else there was holding me back.

  Even though I knew I should not be thinking about it, I also knew Landon felt the same. It was a shifter thing, a wolf thing. I was an unclaimed female, and he was one of my supposed mates. While it might have caused me stress before, not to mention I’d hated it with a fiery passion, now…now it was hard for me to hate it, harder for me to deny my wolfish instincts.

  God save me, I wanted to be claimed.

  Perish the thought. If my mom knew, she’d kill me, or at least be really, really disappointed in me. Sarah had run away from the pack to be with my father, all for love. Clearly, fighting the mating instinct was not impossible if my mom could do it.

  I pretended not to notice how Landon’s eyes fell, slowly traveling up my body before he muttered, “Fine. Go on, then.” He stepped aside, allowing me entry to the basement.

  I shot him a look, the hardest glare I could muster while I ignored the heat that had crept up my body when he’d checked me out. As if I was waiting for his permission to go downstairs.

  As if I cared about Landon, AKA the douche brother-who-wasn’t-really-a-brother.

  I pushed around him, balancing the plate of steak on my arm as I opened the basement door. The steps were wooden and creaky, just like I imagined every single set of basement stairs were. Even in a nice house like this, basements were just creepy. It’s where the monsters were in every horror movie ever made. I would’ve made a joke about not believing in monsters, but…well.

  I kind of was one myself, wasn’t I?

  A shifter. Sort of like a werewolf, only different. Shifters could turn whenever they wanted, regardless of the moon’s cycle. Shifters could not infect humans with a bite or a scratch, but they had to help awaken the younger shifters of the pack. Maze had said something about the beast of the alpha or an elder bringing forth the younger one. A ritual rooted in tradition, one I would join after Clay was dealt with and the threat of the death priest gone.

  Though, I would argue until I was out of breath, I did not want Henry to be the one to scratch me and help me unleash my inner wolf. I would much rather have Forest do it. I was pretty sure in Crystal Lake, the alpha was the one who did it. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited for the future, especially where Forest was concerned.

  The Crystal Lake Pack was steeped in tradition from the sound of it, and though I was a fan of certain traditions, others needed to be broken—such as respecting Henry simply because he was a pack elder. Sometimes tradition was just a keyword for bigoted or sexist.

  Whatever. I would cross that bridge when I got to it.

  Chapter Two – Addie

  My feet drew me down the creaky steps, one by one, slowly bringing into my sight a view of the basement. It was unfinished, just a concrete slab below with pipes and ductwork above. A washer and dryer sat in the corner, along with a few metal shelving racks. But all in all, it was pretty bare.

  Oh, hold on.

  Bare, except for the metal support beam in the center of the room, and the wolf currently chained to it like a prisoner.

  To say Jack looked unhealthy would be a bit of an understatement. His fur was longer and scraggly, its ashy blonde hue a pale color, lacking the life and sheen it should’ve held. His ribs were visible, his furry tail lanky. His eyes were a bright green, very similar to mine, but they held a haze, a sadness that made me feel for him even though I knew I shouldn’t.

  I had a heart. Sue me.

  “Hi, Jack,” I spoke once I reached the basement’s floor.

  Jack’s ears perked up at the sound of my voice, even though I knew he heard me walking down the stairs. Heck, he probably heard me upstairs while I was talking to Landon. He was laying down on his side, his thin chest puffing out with each labored breath. A metal chain was locked around his neck, tying him to the support beam and covering the huge scar marring the underside of his throat.

  I wondered how in the world he got the scar, because it was probably the worst scar I’d ever seen in real life. The worst that wasn’t on a TV show. It was so deep, so thick, hardly any fur grew over it.

  “I brought you some food and water,” I said, watching his tail thump twice.

  I was going to set them right beside his head, but a voice called out to me from the stairs, “Don’t get too close to him.” Landon. He’d followed me down; I must’ve been too intent and focused on Jack to hear his footsteps behind me.

  Not wanting to argue in front of him, I carefully set the plate and bowl on the floor, pushing them with my foot to get them closer—only for the sake of the argument sure to commence once I went back upstairs. Landon was not the type to give up, clearly.

  How annoying.

  “I’m sorry, Jack,” I whispered, hoping he knew what I meant. Sorry for how he was locked up, sorry for how the pack treated him. Sorry for everything Clay had done to him. Sorry for it all. But when he looked at me then, I didn’t see the intelligence of a person caught in his wolf form. I saw an animal, with an animal’s instincts.

  Jack was only nice to me because he wanted me to shift, and then he wanted to claim me.

  I couldn’t say why, but I was disappointed in this revelation. I wasn’t sure how I could get Jack’s human side back, how he could once again be more than his wolf. Unfortunately for him, helping him shift back into his human form was not my priority right now. Feeding him, giving him water, yes, but Clay was front and center on my list of problems.

  I felt awful about it.

  I spun on my feet, pushing past Landon to hurry up the steps. Once we were both out of the stairwell, and L
andon had the door firmly closed behind him, I whirled on him, pointing a finger at his chest. “You know, he didn’t attack anyone when they brought him here.”

  Landon smirked. “He didn’t have a chance to. He was outnumbered, cornered. He had no choice but to come.”

  God, how badly I wanted to wipe that smirk off his freaking face. I didn’t need any smirkers around here. Who did? This wasn’t a movie. Smirking was totally unnecessary, regardless of the situation.

  “What?” Landon asked, tilting his head and acting far too cocky. “Cat got your tongue?” His smirk turned into a full-blown smile.

  He thought he was funny, did he? Well, he had another thing coming.

  “Nope,” I said. “No cats around here. Only a jackass of a wolf who thinks he knows everything.” Being connected with my wolf now made me prone to swear a bit more than I used to. My mom would have an aneurysm if she heard me say the word jackass.

  And even so…I thought I sounded like a child swearing. The word didn’t come out right. It sounded off, somehow. Wrong. A kid trying to sound like an adult—which was so stupid, because I was nearly twenty. I was as much of an adult as I could be. Being legally able to drink alcohol when I turned twenty-one? Not what I considered my threshold to adulthood.

  Landon did not particularly like being called a jackass, for his expression darkened, the smile falling off his face. He took a step toward me. “What did you just call me?” His chest rumbled with a strange mixture of a breath and a growl.

  And, darn it, if I didn’t find it painfully attractive…

  My wolf wanted to throw herself at him right then and there, but luckily someone else stepped in the hall, munching on a breakfast bar even though it was way past breakfast time. Maze stood, acting as if his burnt arm didn’t hurt at all, chewing loudly as his eyes flicked between me and Landon.

  “Am I interrupting something?” Maze asked, his brown eyes taking in every single detail. How I stood, how Landon had moved closer to me. Probably noticed the way my cheeks were flushed. “Tell me I’m interrupting something,” he said again when neither of them spoke. “Should I get Dylan? We can both interrupt, if you want.”