Oh, right. My mom had talked to me.
Propping myself on my elbows, I looked at my mom. “I’m listening. Trying to. It’s just…so boring. Can’t you tell me how dad cast spells?” I didn’t need to know where magic came from, or how it was used, or who governed all the magic-users. Fun facts to know, I supposed, but useless to me in the fight against Clay.
Plus, my mom wasn’t going to stay here. We didn’t have all the time in the world to dally.
“Addie, if you’re going to use magic, you have to respect it.”
I groaned. I’d already used magic, and I respected it just fine. A lot more than I did Henry, at least—although that wasn’t a hard figure to beat. “I promise,” I said, “I’ll pray to it every day before bed.” A bit too snippy, but the words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.
Sarah narrowed her gaze. “I see Maze has already rubbed off on you.”
A laugh wiggled its way through me, bursting through my lips. The mere thought of Maze rubbing off on me was hilarious. No, Mom, I wanted to say, I’ve always been a little shit. Just don’t feel like hiding it anymore.
Same with swearing. I’d sworn in my head countless of times before, hardly ever spoke a single curse aloud, but now? The more and more I said them, the more I found I liked the words. Sometimes there were expressions, emotions, one could only portray by using a slew of swearwords, and sometimes they were necessary to use in plain everyday conversation.
“I’m sorry. I’m just impatient,” I whined. “I just want all the secrets to the universe in an hour. Is it too much to ask?” I smiled, laying back down, staring at the textured ceiling.
“Not at all, honey. In fact, the secrets to the universe are given out weekly at our Monday meetings,” Sarah shot back, able to use sarcasm quite well. Who knew? I certainly didn’t, though I did let out another laugh. “I’m trying to tell you all I know about it. Everything your father ever told me. When I was younger, I was curious. To know magic, he told me, you have to know where it comes from.”
I nodded to myself, serious as I whispered, “I know where it comes from.” I moved my hands to my chest, holding my palms above my heart. “Here.” A Disney movie line if I ever heard one.
“Oh, you—I’d get annoyed with you, but you’re right,” Sarah spoke with an exhale. “You must’ve been listening to me a little, then, and not totally lost daydreaming about your guys.”
Did my mom think me a shameless hussy? I could go for hours at a time not thinking about any of my future mates, thank you very much…except now, of course, because she’d brought them up.
“Back to magic,” Sarah said, “everyone is capable of it, but most have their hearts and their minds closed off. Theoretically, every human could wake up and suddenly cast spells, but it takes a lot more from them, and they’re, well, you know. Human. They don’t believe in what they can’t see. But for witches and warlocks, casting any sort of spell is much easier. The high warlocks can cast spells as easy as they can breathe, I’m sure.”
So…in addition to being the jerk that had left us, my father was also an all-powerful warlock who could probably fix this issue with Clay with a snap of his fingers. Good to know.
“Magic does not travel through genetics, but the predisposition to it does. Your shifter side, we both assumed, would be dominant. We never imagined you would display the powers of both. You are, not to put it lightly, probably the first of your kind.”
“Ooh, I’m so special,” I mused. “Please, Mom, call me a snowflake from now on. I find myself far too special to be called otherwise.” Okay, so that was heavily and almost ridiculously laced with sarcasm. Maybe Maze did rub off on me after all.
Sarah gave me an unimpressed look. “Your father is the high warlock of power. He can cast any spell and have it be ten times more powerful than the same spell done by another warlock who’d been practicing the same spell for his entire life. Your magic must be the same, if what you told me is true. To break a death priest’s spell, any of his spells, you’d either have to be a death priest yourself or the high warlock of death.”
“Or another high warlock,” I chimed in. Magic, from what my mom had said before—when I was daydreaming about the shag carpet—was all about balance. The high warlocks balanced each other out.
Nodding once, my mom went on, “Which leads me to believe you’re either really powerful, just like your father, or…” Her voice trailed off, her expression clouding over. Her hazel eyes darkened, lips thinning into a line. Her next words were ominous, “Or Clay wanted you to think you got away.”
I would be a liar if I said the thought had never crossed my mind before. “Another reason I want to be ready,” I whispered. If Clay had let us go, if this was all a ruse of epic proportions, I had to be prepared for him. I would not let him in my mind again, not let him control Jack or Landon—or anyone in the pack. If I was the only one who could defend against such magical attacks, I had no choice. I would fight.
My mom sighed. “Addie, I really hate that you want to put yourself in danger for the pack. I understand it, I know where you’re coming from, but above it all, I am your mother. I left this pack for you and your father. You are my daughter, and until the day I die, I will worry about you, whether you’re fighting death priests or pledging yourself to the pack. I never want to see you put yourself in harm’s way.”
Such motherly sentiment. Such kind, sincere words, words that felt profound in the air, words that made my heart feel heavy in my chest. Nothing I could say in reply would make my mom feel better. There was nothing I could do, short of leaving with her right now, and that was something I couldn’t do.
I had responsibilities here, shifters who relied on me. I would not let them down, not while I had fight left in me.
When I didn’t say anything—because what could I say?—Sarah went on, “I know the first spells are always the hardest. Your father said when he was younger, he could not even make a pencil levitate. By the time he was ten, he could easily lift a car off the ground. You’ve already casted a few times. It should start to get easier for you.”
I nodded once. The one where I’d broken Clay’s hold over Jack, the one where I’d gone inside myself and met my wolf while still awake—and of course who could forget the levitating book that got me into this mess to begin with? I had at least three spells, whatever they were, under my belt.
Although, I did bleed from my nose while trying to get out of the cabin, not to mention my eyes when I’d felt the barrier. Maybe I’d hit the ground running a bit too fast, tried to take on more than I could chew; a mouthful of hot sauce when I only should’ve added a single drop.
“For your father, I think, spells were always about focus,” Sarah said. “Your father always had to calm himself down before casting. Whatever emotions he felt only distracted him, made his spells less likely to hit their mark, and less powerful. It sounds like yours is—”
I had to sit up at this. “The opposite,” I muttered, meeting her stare.
My father had to be focused, while I had to let my emotions run wild. If I hadn’t gotten so upset at that stupid C-minus, that book never would’ve floated. If my fright hadn’t nearly swallowed me, I never would’ve tried to break the spell of control Clay had over Jack. My emotions were all over the charts when I was in that murder cabin—what would’ve been bad for my father had helped me.
I didn’t know what to think of it.
“If that’s the case,” my mom went on, “it will be hard for you to practice, because you’ll also have to call forth whatever emotion makes it easier for you.”
Yes, I could agree with that, but I also could’ve said my father’s way of casting was a handicap. Who could be calm in the middle of a fight? Who didn’t let their heart rate climb? I would never be able to face down Clay and be calm and focused while doing it. My emotions would be wild, I’d want revenge. Certainly, my way of casting would make things easier for me in the thick of it.
I watched Sar
ah get to her feet, moving to the bookcase beside the mantle, sliding out a thin hardback with her finger. She moved to the floor, sitting across from me on the shag carpet, setting the book between us.
“Your first spell,” Sarah spoke, tapping the cover of the book—some crime thriller with bright colors— “that we are aware of, was lifting a book and flinging it so hard you knocked your professor out. You can’t think of anything that happened to you before that might’ve taken place because of magic?”
I thought hard. Anything crazy would’ve stuck out like a sore thumb; I wouldn’t have forgotten it. “No, the textbook was the first,” I said.
“I cannot believe I shrugged you off when you said the book floated,” my mom muttered, unhappy with herself. “I should’ve put two and two together. I should’ve anticipated something with you, considering how powerful your father is. I just thought…I thought you were a shifter, for your whole life. I thought it was impossible.”
“It’s okay, Mom. I would’ve laughed at me too, if I were you. I mean, a month ago I had no idea any of this stuff existed. If you would’ve shifted into a wolf in front of me, I probably would’ve had a heart attack.”
Sarah smiled. “Now, why don’t you put your money where your mouth is and try to make this book float?” There was a pause before she added, “And please don’t direct it toward my head. Shifters don’t believe in hospitals. The last thing I need is a concussion while I’m out here.”
I laughed, and as the laugh tapered off, I muttered, “I’ll try, but I make no promises.”
Chapter Ten – Addie
Happy memories flashed inside my head. My mom giving me the first—and only—standing ovation I’d ever gotten for the solo in the choir class every eighth grader had to take. My thirteenth birthday, when Sarah had gotten me a cake with Wonder Woman on it, because girls could be just as kickass as boys. Memories that made me smile, that made my heart soar with warm, unbridled joy.
Truly, I’d had a good life, lies aside. My mom had given me everything; she was like my best friend, my confidant, my advisor. Sarah was everything to me. If I didn’t have her, if my mom was someone else…I would hate it.
If someone offered me all the money in the world, I wouldn’t trade any aspect of my life. It’d been full, even without my father’s presence. I didn’t need a father in my life; Sarah was all I needed.
But, clearly, whatever happiness and contentment I felt about my life was not enough, for when I peeked open an eyelid, I found the book hadn’t moved from the shag carpet. Not even a millimeter.
“Did it move at all?” I asked, hoping maybe it jiggled a bit. I was drowning myself in happy memories like I was face-to-face with a Death Eater. All this sappiness was hard to keep up, too. My normal mental state, apparently, wasn’t happy, with how much work it took to get there.
Sarah shook her head, her blonde hair sticking out of her bandana, swaying along with the movement. “Not even a little,” she said sadly. “What were you thinking of?”
A shrug was all I could come up with. When it wasn’t enough to sate my mom’s curiosity, I said, “Happy thoughts. Birthdays and stuff.”
“And stuff,” Sarah echoed, sounding unimpressed. “Right. No wonder you didn’t move it. This time, why don’t you think of one specific thing, one memory—maybe when you made the top ten in high school? How did it feel? Focus on what went through your head then. Try to pretend you’re back there, reliving it.”
I held back from rolling my eyes. Did I feel proud when I found out I narrowly missed the valedictorian position? No. I felt annoyed. If I would’ve taken AP physics and not just advanced physics…
No, I wasn’t going to think of that. Another memory would have to suffice, but what? If feeling content and happy wasn’t enough, what was? I closed my eyes again.
I had a thought then, what I could focus on, but I wasn’t sure if it was something I should be thinking about while my mom was three feet away. A more recent event, something that had stirred multiple feelings inside of me, an encounter I could not get out of my mind—mostly because I hadn’t expected it to happen at all.
My encounter with Landon upstairs.
The way he’d touched me so softly, gently, sweeping his hands around my side, thumbs trailing along the skin of my hips. His breath, hot on my face, feeling his forehead against mine, nose beside mine. The brushing of our lips, so close and yet so far. Blood pumping, heart racing. The shock I felt over how easy it was to feel close to Landon. Landon, the asshole. Landon, the jerk.
Landon.
All my thoughts went to the wolf, remembering how it felt to be pressed against him, how good my own body felt to feel the arousal that grew in him, just from our nearness. Running my hands along him, feeling his strong arms, his wide shoulders, every part of him hard, in all definitions of the word.
While I focused on the feeling Landon gave me, I pictured the book sitting between mom and me. It was a good thing I was decently good at multitasking, otherwise this entire thing would be a waste of time.
Landon. The book. Landon. The book.
My mind went back and forth, tuning out all else. I hardly heard my mom say “It’s floating. Keep going.” I was too lost in my thoughts.
A rush of memories swept through me, taking away the Landon in the bedroom and plopping the injured, whimpering wolf stuck in a cage in his place. The excited feelings I felt morphed, darkening as I remembered what it was like to watch Clay make Landon spin in a circle and ram his head against the bars so hard he passed out. The helplessness, the anger.
How dare Clay toy with Landon like that. The anger was all consuming, all powerful and unstoppable. It swept through me like a furious storm, a hurricane of memories. If my eyes were open, I’d see red. Anger, in its purest and rawest form, almost animalistic. Landon was mine, and I swore I would never let Clay hurt any of my mates like that again. I would do anything to stop him, anything to end his death magic once and for all…
“Addie,” Sarah’s voice broke through my thoughts, “Addie, stop!”
I instantly opened my eyes, noting the worry in my mom’s tone, and saw just what had her so worked up. The book in between us sat on the shag carpet no longer. It was, in fact, lodged right above our heads, in the ceiling, nestled in the drywall as if it had always been there.
Funny, I didn’t hear it break through the ceiling, let alone start to float. “Huh” was all I said. Did I do that?
What a stupid question. Who else around was a shifter-witch hybrid, with a father who was so powerful he was one of the world’s seven high warlocks? Just me. It was also probably the reason Clay wanted me. He knew I was different, knew I wasn’t like the others, and not because my shifter side was still caged.
What did he say?
I slowly dropped my gaze from the book, following my mom as I stood. Sarah would not stop staring at the book above us; it was lodged in there good. It was clear the book wasn’t going to fall, even with gravity pulling it. Someone would have to get a ladder, or a chair.
Or maybe everyone could just not look up.
“Mom,” I spoke, recalling Clay’s words of another one, “are you sure there aren’t any others out there like me?”
That got my mom’s stare to fall to me right quick. “Like you?” Sarah echoed, confused. “Believe it or not, honey, I’m not in charge of the world’s magical beings. People will be with whoever they’ll be with. Are you special? Yes, of course. Even if your father was human, you’d be special. Can I say that you’re the only one in the history of the world? You know I don’t particularly like making generic blanket statements, but…”
“I think Clay wants me,” I said, keeping to myself the another one thing, because maybe I was overthinking this, “because I have a better link to my shifter side. With you, that’s all there is. I’m able to communicate with my wolf, meet her and talk to her—not like she talks back, but you know what I mean.”
Sarah crossed her arms. “Honey, that makes it mo
re dangerous for you to stay.”
“I have to stay, Mom. I can’t go. This is…this is where I belong. I know it.” It was insanely hard to tell my mom that this—the place Sarah had run from all those years ago—was exactly where I was meant to be. With Maze, Dylan, and Landon, with Forest as my alpha, with this pack behind my back.
This was my new home.
My mom engulfed me in a bear hug, practically squeezing the life out of me as she said, “I’m sure you’ll be alright. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to worry about you, though. You know me, I’ll—”
“Worry till the sun comes up, and then goes down again,” I said, having heard Sarah say it before, countless of times. Even though my mom was hugging me, my gaze was still tilted upwards, staring at the book.
Right. I should probably get it down, somehow.
Sarah sluggishly let me go, eyeing me in a new light. Maybe I looked more like my father, suddenly, now I was able to use some magic. I was pretty sure I already had his hair, minus the pink parts. And my eyes, they were greener than Sarah’s hazel. Maybe I had his eyes, too.
Not that I wanted to look like him. Not that I cared. It was just something I wondered, because why not?
I flicked my gaze to the bookshelf. I could find a ladder and get the book down, or I could continue to practice. Common decency told me to get the book out of the ceiling first, but common sense told me the opposite.
Now, I finally had time to practice my magical skills. None of the guys were near, so my wolf wasn’t begging to be claimed. My mom was here, helping me practice. I might impale more walls with more books if we continued, but practicing was better than not practicing, right?
It was just like studying. I had to put my mind to it, put my all behind it. Soon enough, I’d be able to levitate a book no problem. Hopefully I’d be able to control where it went, too. I wanted to be a pro at this by the end of the day.
Crystal Lake Pack: The Complete Series: A Reverse Harem Shifter Romance Page 25