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

by Candace Wondrak

  I managed to ask a single, out of breath word as my heart raced inside my chest, “Why?” It could be taken in a lot of ways, but I meant it in only one.

  Dylan’s gaze lingered on my mouth, as if it was the most appealing thing he’d ever seen. “I don’t mind being second,” he whispered. “As long as I have you, I could be the hundredth and I wouldn’t care.”

  I blinked. Wasn’t it too soon to start declaring things like that? These guys…these shifters—they liked things to move at a marathon pace, whereas I liked things on a more glacial scale.

  That was before today, though. Now? I’d be a marathon runner, if my yearning insides had anything to say about it.

  “What?” I asked, both wanting him to say more fluffy and sweet things to me and wanting him to realize what a mush he sounded like. I, clearly, couldn’t decide what I wanted. I was a hot mess tonight.

  “Landon will put up a fight no matter where he’s at, just so you know,” Dylan told me, as if that answered my question. “He’s like that, but Maze is right. He does care about you—it’s just hard for him to show it, with everything he’s been through.”

  I stared at him. What the heck was he talking about? I wasn’t about to go find Landon and kiss him, too. Two in the span of twenty minutes was enough, wasn’t it?

  Finally, Dylan seemed to realize I was discombobulated. “Are you all right? Should I not have done that?” He instantly took it to mean he’d done wrong by kissing me, but he couldn’t be farther from the truth.

  The truth was I wanted him to kiss me more. I wanted more. More in general. These intense but short-lived kisses were going to kill me. How was a girl supposed to cope, knowing how good they both kissed? What did I have to do—carry around a flashing neon sign that said available for kisses lasting more than ten seconds?

  “It’s hard,” Dylan went on, “because my wolf feels yours. I should’ve asked you, made sure it was okay with you first. I don’t know why I did that. I’m not—I’m not that kind of guy, really. I never do things like that.” The more the quiet one talked, the louder and more frantic he became, until I reached for him, setting a hand on his arm.

  “Stop,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound too breathy and frisky. “You’re fine. You didn’t do anything wrong. I liked it, Dylan.” My hand slid down his arm, and I was instantly lost in how hard his muscles were, even when he wasn’t flexing. Plus, the arm I held onto was his injured one. He barely had any scars. Maze was only a day or two behind him, and his arm had been in practically the same condition.

  How was that possible?

  Dylan watched me, realizing I ogled his arm like some hormonal teenage girl. He visibly relaxed, hopefully put at ease by my words. “Shifters heal faster than humans,” he said. “Shifting helps speed the process along, but Forest doesn’t like us doing it. He says it’s to make us tougher. Only shift when we have to.”

  I nodded along, only half listening as my fingers traveled down along his arm. Dylan might be the quiet one, but he definitely wasn’t the typical book reader. The muscles, the sheer brawn. He was a man, even with those glasses and that hair, which typically hung over his eyes.

  “If the pain is too great, we can’t shift at all, one way or another,” he said. “Maze and I were both lucky the fire didn’t burn too deep, otherwise there would be scars.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner,” I said, “otherwise, maybe you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” Or maybe he wouldn’t have listened to me, maybe he would’ve whirled on me and turned on me like Forest did.

  Yeah. That was something I wouldn’t forget, even if now I knew why he’d been so prone to snap at his emotions.

  Dylan rested a hand over mine, holding my grip around his arm, not letting me go. “It’s not your fault, Addie. None of it. Without you, we never would’ve found it. None of this would be happening if it weren’t for you. Everything Forest said is true.”

  I wasn’t so confident about it, but I was glad he said it. “Thank you,” I whispered. Around them, I heard a few laughs, and I shot them all glares. Were they laughing at me? Did they know I’d kissed Maze and then so quickly Dylan?

  But no one else watched us. What small bits of laughter there was hovered over certain groups, the cliques whose members held the most alcohol.

  It was something I didn’t understand. Maybe because I was too much of a goody two shoes, but I’d never tried any type of alcohol before. Drinking wasn’t all that college was about, not for me. For my ex best friends, maybe. I was glad I didn’t smell any of it on Dylan’s breath. Landon, I knew, was probably one of the drunk ones, walking around, making fun of everything and everyone while laughing his ass off.

  That, or he was a mean drunk. I wasn’t sure how much meaner the wolf could be.

  As I gazed at the groups around us, I was oblivious to the curious look Dylan gave me. “Addie,” he spoke my name softly, “do you…” Trailing off, his gaze fell to his lap, his hand sliding off mine.

  I was slow to withdraw my arm from him, knowing I should stop touching him if I wanted to keep my sanity tonight. I asked, “What?” I couldn’t see Landon in the groups around us. Was he by the fire, by the lake?

  “What Caitlin said,” Dylan spoke, hesitancy coating every word.

  That got my attention. My eyebrows furrowed, and it took me a moment to remember what Caitlin had said. Such was the power of the twins’ kisses, apparently. Mind-altering.

  When Dylan said nothing more, I prompted him, “What about it? Do you know what she was talking about?” Maybe one mystery could be figured out before the end of the night.

  “I think I do,” he spoke with uncertainty. “It’s…it’s not my place, though.”

  What the heck? If it involved me in any capacity, wasn’t it his business by default? Why in the world wouldn’t it be his place? If there was to be another mate, surely Dylan deserved a say, just as we all did.

  And then it hit me, the realization so swift and fast it was unavoidable, like a brick wall slapping me upside the head. Kind of shocking, and a whole lot of raised questions about gravity and other things, like the laws of nature.

  “You’re not talking about Jack, are you?” I asked, aghast at the possibility. He was a wolf for goodness sakes. He wasn’t even a man. There was no telling his age.

  But then, when it came to shifters and their dying breed, maybe age hardly mattered.

  “Jack? You mean the wolf in Forest’s basement?” Dylan blinked behind his glasses. “No, I don’t mean Jack.” His tone implied something I didn’t like, as if I danced around the subject, like I knew and refused to say it.

  Here’s the thing: I didn’t know, and this constant run around was giving me a headache.

  “Then what—”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything,” Dylan spoke, hurriedly grabbing his book and nearly leaping from the table, wanting to get away from me and my line of questioning.

  What the hell was in the water around here? Was everyone crazy? Was I the only sane one? These wolves were driving me up the walls, in both aggravating and wanting ways. It was the kisses. It had to be. They kissed me, and suddenly everyone lost their minds.

  I picked at a piece of splintered wood on the table. So this was how it was going to be, huh? This was how—

  A grey-haired, goatee-wearing figure sat across from me, his hazel eyes much like my mom’s, only angrier and haughtier. Henry.

  Fuck that.

  I decided I didn’t want to deal with him, getting up and walking away, not turning my head around to hear his protests. I’d rather spend my time locked in a padded room watching the Teletubbies on repeat than spend any amount of time with my grandfather, honestly.

  Besides, I wanted answers, and if I had anything to say about it, I would get them before the sun fell completely and shrouded the world in night.

  Chapter Eighteen – Addie

  One would think that, since I was so crazy for my future mates, I would be able to pick them
out from a crowd, but as I zigzagged through the throngs of shifters, I could not spot them. A lineup? Definitely. But throw in a hundred other shifters who all smelled both similar and different, well, things got complicated for my nose.

  If I’d shifted, if I was fully one with my inner wolf, maybe I wouldn’t have this problem.

  Still at a disadvantage, no matter what I did.

  I wanted answers. What was everyone talking about? Was I supposed to have more than three mates? Were there a bunch of other males lining up to join my little harem?

  Assuming I was okay with adding anyone else to the fray—which I was not, not at the moment—there was only so much I could handle, so many mates I could juggle—ahem, AKA dicks. When everything was said and done, I’d need time to myself, too. I wasn’t going to transform into the type of wolf who was not my own person; I would not become a slave to my mates.

  Surely I could find someone I could pull an answer from. Grab their ear and scold them like the parent I wasn’t. If it involved me, which clearly it did, I deserved to know. I refused to be kept in the dark about these things.

  No more lies. No more hiding the truth. No more conveniently forgetting. I would find out what everyone else danced around, whether I had to wring it from someone’s neck or not.

  I stood aside the pyre, the heat making me want to shrug off my jacket, but I refused. It was a fashion statement I would never give up, even in the desert. It was the hill I would die on, if I had to.

  My eyes scanned the distance, and I spotted someone standing at the edge of the dock, above the clear water of Crystal Lake. Though he was far, I was able to recognize him. Good. At least I found someone who could give me an answer.

  It might not have been Dylan’s place to say, but surely the alpha could. He was the frigging alpha, the highest on the totem pole. If Forest wouldn’t tell me, I was truly out of luck.

  I drew myself along the shore, my boot soles dragging as I brought my feet onto the wooden dock. He stood alone, gazing at the horizon, at the setting sun. Opposite him, far across the diameter of the giant lake, the rocky outcropping stood, cutting through the trees that circled the wilder side of the lake.

  Hands in his pockets, Forest did not look at me, even as I stood beside him at the dock’s edge. He had to have known I approached him long before then, from his hearing or his sense of smell. His blue eyes seemed darker then, as he gazed out at the lake, his square jaw tense.

  I looked at him for a moment, allowing myself just a quick peek at the alpha. Wearing those dark clothes, with his jet-black hair and intense azure eyes, he created a whole new level of attractiveness. Knowing, strong, calm; everything an alpha should be, coupled with muscles that would make any girl, human or shifter, swoon. A mature way about him that had come with his responsibility.

  And his loss.

  I looked away, unable to gaze at his profile any longer. He was the alpha, the man who was supposed to be my mom’s mate, once he came of age. He was closer to Sarah’s age than mine. I could daydream about his looks, but there were lines that couldn’t be crossed. Especially not now, not now I knew the truth.

  The look on Forest’s face when he held the body, the pain tugging against his features. It was a sight I would not soon forget.

  I didn’t know if I should speak or not, but I went ahead and spoke anyway. Softly, quietly, as if the world itself would shatter if I spoke at a higher decibel. I spoke the words no one had said to me, not outright, but all the pieces were there, and I was able to put them together: “She was your mate.”

  I heard him inhale a great breath, holding it in for a few moments before letting it out. “She was,” he said.

  I said nothing. What was there to say after that? Saying I was sorry didn’t cut it, didn’t mean anything in the scheme of things. Who was I to him? Nothing, no one. Just another packmate. My sympathy came years too late.

  “She was mine,” Forest whispered. “And I was hers.”

  “Did you…” I stopped, somehow already knowing a part of the answer.

  “No. She was barren, but 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 I was not ready for. The rawness in Forest’s voice, the way it broke when he spoke her name—how could I not tear up, standing there beside him, listening to the Crystal Lake alpha break? I had a heart. I 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 I could feel the air around us shift into a simmering boil. His rage was quiet but palpable, and I couldn’t blame him. If our roles were reversed, I’d feel the same.

  I was not sure what to say. Going along with his rage didn’t feel right, so I 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.” I did not say it to argue with him, and I hoped he would not take it that way. I only stated facts.

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

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

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

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

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

  “You will not throw yourself at him,” Forest used my words, and I fought the feeling that crept up inside me—my inner wolf wanted to bow and submit to his will, but I 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.”

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

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

  Which was fine. I was done talking about it anyway, because I knew I’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.

  I breathed in the clean air. With the way the wind blew, coming from the forest, I could not smell the pyre or the fire. No ash or dirt in the air. Just unpolluted, crisp air. With the darkening sky above us, 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 the rise.

  “This place,” I whispered, “is beautiful.”

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

  “Just so you know,” I 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, everything you can be,” he spoke, swiftly and severely, like I knew he would.

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

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

  Bad, bad stomach.

  “Can I ask you something?” I blurted the words out before I 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 me and what I’d said—he didn’t need to deal with any of my crap right now. But once the words were spoken, I couldn’t take them back.

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

  “I…” Why could I not say more than that? Maybe it was the feeling of being under his scrutiny. I had to shift the focus of my stare, unable to hold his, for whatever strange reason. I returned my 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 I…

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

  Right into the water.

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

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