Wolf's Promise

by Elyce de Reefe

  She raced up the porch steps and got the key in the lock, with Aaron right behind her. Damn. Did he have to be so fast? She threw open the door and jumped over the threshold, stopping in the middle of the small living room.

  “Arrgh! What the—”

  Lyla spun around, ready to yell at him for ruining the moment, but stopped short. Aaron was standing on the porch, rubbing his forehead and glaring at her.

  “What did you do?” His question was almost a roar.

  “I didn’t do anything…” She trailed off, her eyes rising slowly to the door jamb and the bundle of herbs tacked above it. “Oh.” Had Aaron just literally bounced off the open doorway?

  “Um, sorry,” Lyla said, trying to sound contrite. She reached up and pulled the bundle down. “Wolfsbane.”

  Aaron growled and she felt a little spurt of satisfaction. The spell worked. In fact, it was a lot stronger than she ever would have guessed. A niggle of anxiety hit her. Were all her spells that strong? If so, she was going to have to be a lot more careful. Not that she used a lot of spells, or at least she hadn’t. She’d been using a lot more since she’d met Aaron. She shook that thought aside. She had things to do.

  “You want to tell me why you’re hanging wolfsbane on your lintels?” He did not look happy. He approached the doorway cautiously, still rubbing his forehead, which was noticeably red.

  “Oh. Well, I guess…” She trailed off, then shrugged. “It was more of an instinct than anything. I just didn’t like the way those customers were acting in the store, so I did a few spells of protection. And for some reason, my hand kept drifting towards the wolfsbane.”

  She gave him a significant look, trying to pretend it was really no big deal, but inside she was shaken. She’d never made a spell this strong. Had she? And she really had added the wolfsbane purely on impulse. What did that mean?

  With one hand held cautiously out in front of him, Aaron entered the house. “Hurry and get your things. I don’t want to be here any longer than necessary. And then you and I are going to have a talk.”

  Lyla spun on her heel and headed upstairs to her bedroom. She was not going to think about what had happened there the last time Aaron had been in her house. Ur… no, not the last time. The first time—

  Forget about that, Lyla. Get the grimoire. Her mother’s grimoire, passed down from mother to daughter for centuries, and her grandmother’s journals, were in a locked wooden chest carefully hidden in the back of her closet. She barely glanced at her bed in passing, which rumpled as it was, looked like she and Aaron had just climbed out of it—

  Get a grip. You were the one who tossed those blankets aside, trying to find out what was happening in your own backyard. She grabbed a suitcase and started throwing things in. She needed more clothes anyway. She extracted the beautiful brassbound chest from behind a stack of shoe boxes and placed it carefully in the suitcase.

  Now, where is that key? It had been a long time since the chest had been opened. She snapped her fingers. That’s right. It must be in my jewelry box. She flipped it open to make sure, and yes, there was the little brass key hanging from a chain she used to wear around her neck. She paused for a moment, remembering.

  She had looked through the chest often after her mother’s death, opening the grimoire and flipping to the back, right before the blank pages, and running her fingers over the last three spells written in her mother’s hand. But it made her heart ache to touch the pages touched by her mother, knowing she would never feel that touch again. Over time, she opened it less and less often.

  Her grandmother’s journals were old and musty and had held no interest for a young girl, so they had been largely unread. She’d looked through them several times over the years, but found it hard to relate to her grandmother’s rambling observations, which tended to jump from what she served for dinner, to her latest attempts to perfect a certain spell, to what seemed like pure gossip, without any rhyme or reason. But maybe there would be something in there about the prophecy. Even a hint of why anyone would think it was related to her. Surely there must be something. She couldn’t imagine why…

  She shook herself. She could think about this later. She was just about to close the box when she noticed a set of silver bangles poking out from behind a small silk pouch. Her mother used to wear those whenever she was working on a particularly difficult spell. Silver enhanced magical properties, and she had a feeling her mother used these to sharpen her focus. She slipped them onto her wrist. Couldn’t hurt.

  After a moment’s reflection, she tucked the jewelry box into her suitcase. It wasn’t very large. And there might be other useful things in there she’d forgotten about. Lyla generally stuck to a small selection of classic pieces that went with everything, which tended to make life easier. Her clothes were like that too. But there were a few pieces from her mother and even her grandmother in there.

  She bustled around grabbing more clothes and anything else she might need. Definitely a few more pairs of shoes. Right now all she had were her little black boots and a pair of sneakers. And this time she didn’t forget her Kindle. Aaron’s selection of the top 100 engineering tomes hadn’t improved with time. Now all she had to do was figure out a way to pack up all the herbs and potions she would need without drawing too much scrutiny. Maybe she could organize some type of distraction. Get Aaron out of the house for a little while.

  As it turned out, she didn’t need to. Aaron got a call on his cell and stepped out on the porch to take it. Lyla grabbed two shopping bags and shoved everything she could fit inside. She couldn’t take everything. Naturally. And she wasn’t sure what she would need. So she just threw in whatever she could fit and hoped for the best.

  Chapter 13

  It wasn’t until they were driving home that Lyla discovered what had drawn Aaron out of the house. Apparently, the brothers had been following the scent of her would-be attackers and come across something strange. Something that had Aaron’s jaw clenched tighter than she’d ever seen it. At first she couldn’t get him to answer any questions. Finally, he turned to her, his eyes so cold they made her shiver.

  “You’ll see when we get there.”

  The hard-faced grimness of his expression was like nothing she’d ever seen. She spent the rest of the drive in gut-churning silence.

  Aaron pulled up to the pack house going too fast and screeched to a stop. Also not his usual M.O. He sat there for a moment, and then turned to her.

  “Let’s get this over with.”

  Boaz was waiting for them over by the garage, so Lyla climbed down from the SUV and started over towards him.

  “Let’s take this inside,” Aaron said.

  “I’m not sure that’s smart,” Boaz said. “I don’t know if we want to bring it in.”

  “What is it?” Lyla asked, her voice too high and almost breathy. But she knew. She could already feel the tiny hairs on her arms standing up. Magic of some type or another. And whatever it was, it was strong.

  Boaz pulled an object from his pocket. Lyla’s breath whooshed from her body. It was a folded red bandana—and as he proceeded to unwrap it—the strength of the magic shivered along her skin. He revealed a silver charm, with some kind of colorful tassel attached to it. Cautiously, Lyla edged closer and bit her lip. The charm was exquisitely shaped into a tiny wolf standing on all fours, and howling. And it emanated one of the strongest magical resonances Lyla had ever felt.

  “It’s a lure,” she said quietly, almost afraid to break the silence.

  “A lure?” Aaron’s voice was sharp. “What kind of lure?”

  “Well… judging from the shape, I’d say… a wolf lure.” Lyla glanced around at the three of them clustered around Boaz’s cupped hand. “Or a… Moon People lure?”

  “You don’t know?” Aaron’s voice was hard. Accusing.

  Lyla bit her lip. “It’s not aimed at me. Do you feel attracted to it?”

  “Yeah,” Aaron burst out. “I’d say I feel attracted to it. If you call being p
ulled to something like it’s a new source of gravity attracted.”

  “Oh. Um…” She glanced at the other men. “You too?” There were grim nods all around. “I think Boaz is right. We shouldn’t bring it into the house.”

  “Lyla.” Aaron’s voice was grim. “Do you want to tell me something?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know exactly what it’s for. I never really did anything with lures.” She waved a hand, feeling helpless. This was the kind of magic she hated. “It’s not really my thing.”

  “Your thing?” Aaron roared. “Do you want to tell me why it carries your scent?”

  “What?” Lyla felt the blood drain from her face. “That’s not possible. I’ve never touched it. Never even seen it before.”

  “Lyla—it reeks of you.”

  “But… how could that be? Even if I touched it, it wouldn’t reek. Would it? How is that even possible?”

  Aaron just shook his head, jaw clamped firmly shut. His brothers looked uncomfortable and refused to meet her eye. She had a sinking feeling she didn’t want to know what they were thinking.

  “Well, it’s not mine. And I think we need to get rid of it. I think it might be what brought those others to me.” She swallowed. Someone had set her up. Some person in the witch community—someone that she knew—had deliberately targeted her. It had to be someone who knew her, didn’t it? How would they get her scent?

  “You said you found it on their trail?” Her voice sounded remarkably matter-of-fact, considering she was shaking inside. Boaz nodded grimly.

  “Well, it’s a powerful lure.” She reached out to touch it, wondering if the resonance of the maker would linger on the charm, but Aaron knocked her hand aside before she could make contact.

  “Don’t touch it.”

  She regarded him steadily for a moment and then nodded. Who knew? Maybe it held a trap.

  “We should try to neutralize it as much as possible, and get it as far away from here as we can. We don’t want to bring those other three here.” She wiped her hands nervously on her pants, trying to think. “Okay, so it should be wrapped in silk and then sealed in plastic. And then if you can place it in a lead-lined box and bury it somewhere, that will help. I’ll try to do some research and see if I can dissipate the spell…” She bit her lip. “It’s pretty strong though. I think we should get it out of here in the meanwhile.”

  The three men stared at her silently, their eyes burning. Boaz’s eyes almost seemed to glow. She took a step back, and Boaz and Zeke followed. Oh shit. This is not good. Aaron gave a low, rumbling growl and stepped between her and his brothers.

  “Go inside, Lyla. We’ll take care of this— object.” Aaron didn’t take his eyes from his brothers. Lyla backed slowly toward the house, the hair at the back of her neck standing up. It wasn’t until she’d stepped inside the mudroom door and Elizabeth had firmly turned the lock that Lyla drew in a steadying breath. She waited and watched as the three men clustered together, maybe arguing, but she couldn’t hear. And then Boaz and Zeke got back into their truck and drove away. Aaron watched them for a moment and then stalked toward the house. Maybe she should run upstairs. Elizabeth might even make Aaron stay outside until he cooled down. That woman had guts.

  Aaron got closer and his eyes locked on hers. No. There was no avoiding it. Might as well get it over with. Whatever it was. Elizabeth turned to her silently, and Lyla nodded. Elizabeth patted her shoulder and then turned and headed back to the kitchen. Lyla drew a deep breath and opened the door.

  “Upstairs,” was all he said as he brushed past her.

  Lyla was silent as she followed him to their room, trying to absorb the implications of this new revelation. Maybe it wasn’t just coincidence that after forty-two years of blissful ignorance, werewolves were suddenly coming out of the woodworks. So to speak. Who would do such a thing? And why? And what did it mean for her and Aaron? Had they even met by chance?

  Aaron stood in the middle of the bedroom, head bowed, one hand rubbing his forehead.

  “Close the door, Lyla.” He sounded… defeated. He drew in a big breath and turned to her. “Come here.” This was said in a completely different tone. Stern and commanding. All of a sudden, she wasn’t sure she wanted to get too close. She inched farther into the room. Seeming to lose patience entirely, he whirled and stabbed a finger at a club chair.

  “Sit right there!” Lyla jumped. “Now!”

  Lyla was in the chair before she even thought about it. So this was Aaron angry. Lyla’s knees felt wobbly. Actually, her whole body felt wobbly, so it was probably a good thing she was sitting down. Except now he was looming over her. A strategic mistake. I should be standing on the chair, she thought wildly, except she would probably fall over.

  He leaned in close and growled. “And this time, tell me everything.”

  “Tell you everything?” She sputtered. “What about you? Why did you even ask me out? Was it that lure?”

  “That lure? That lure?” His voice rose in volume. “You are the lure, Lyla! You, and your scent, and your silvery hair, and your musical voice—” He rubbed a hand through his hair and stormed away. He turned back and stalked up to her.

  “Who made the lure, Lyla?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What is its purpose?

  “I don’t know.”

  “Who would even do something like this?”

  “I don’t—” Her voice broke, and she had to swallow hard before she could continue. She cleared her throat. “I really don’t know,” she said, much quieter. “But it does seem that someone—” She paused for a moment, staring down at the carpet. Could it really be true? “Someone seems to have set me up.” She glanced up at him. “You said it smells strongly of me?”

  Aaron snorted and closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead again. “Lyla. It doesn’t just smell like you. It reeks. And not just—” He sighed and met her eyes. “It’s a mating scent, Lyla. Your mating scent.”

  “What?” She got shakily to her feet. “That’s not possible.” Her voice shook. It didn’t sound very convincing, even to her. “How could I have a mating scent? I’m not even sure I’m fertile.”

  “Trust me, Lyla, you’re fertile. But I agree, that shouldn’t be possible. There is no way you should smell like that until after your Moonrise Ceremony. Believe me, I have been smelling you for days, and you don’t smell like that.”

  “How… comforting.” She reached out a shaky hand and sank back down into the chair. “It has to be a manufactured scent. Some kind of spell…” She trailed off, trying to remember anything she might have heard about smell manufacturing, but she really hadn’t paid any attention to the making of lures. She needed that grimoire.

  “A mating scent.” She rubbed her face.

  Aaron flung himself into the other club chair, his big body almost engulfing it. Lyla had to drag her gaze up from his broad shoulders and the muscles of well-developed chest. His mouth was tight, and he just looked at her for a minute.

  “It seems to be set up specifically to lure my kind.” He tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair. “To you. Any idea why?”

  Lyla stilled. Should she tell him? She took a deep breath. It wouldn’t be smart to keep any of the details from him now. She needed to figure out what was going on, and maybe he could help—if he had all the information. She cleared her throat.

  “Well… there is this prophecy.” She felt her face flush. He was going to think she was crazy. Or conceited. Or both. She looked away, unable to hold his gaze. “I never really paid any attention to it, but there was something about… mating.”

  “The Silver Scroll Prophecy?”

  Lyla’s head shot up. “You’ve heard of it?”

  “Dean said something about a prophecy.” Aaron looked uncomfortable. “He said—” Aaron broke off, rubbing his hands on his jeans. “He couldn’t remember all of if it, but he said that a Daughter of the Stars mating a Son of the Moon would bring power to the pack. That might be something that
would draw a pack’s interest. But why lure a pack to you? That doesn’t make sense.”

  Lyla toyed with the silver bangles on her wrist, fingering the tiny stars engraved on their surface. She didn’t want to believe it, but—

  “It had to be a witch who did it. And the only person who ever connected me to the prophecy that I know of… is my aunt. Why she would want to lure someone to me? I don’t know. But if power is involved, that would do it.”

  She snapped her eyes up to Aaron. “I have to get my bags from the car. I have to check my grandmother’s journals. Maybe I can find something that will give us a clue in there.”

  Aaron regarded her steadily for a moment, his handsome face appraising. “You have your grandmother’s journals in the car?”

  Lyla flushed. “Um… yes. I thought I might need to go through them.”

  “What else do you have in the car?”

  She bit her lip. “My mother’s grimoire. And some… herbs and stuff.”

  “Stuff for magic.”

  Lyla nodded. “Stuff for magic,” she confirmed. There was no reason to feel guilty about it. It wasn’t like she was planning anything nefarious. But she did anyway.

  Aaron sat there for a moment, not saying anything. Then he nodded. “Lyla, you are under my protection. That means that I am responsible for your actions.” He stared into her eyes, his face so serious. “Anything you do—I will be held responsible. Don’t forget that.”

  She swallowed and nodded. “I won’t.”

  Aaron heaved out a breath and stood. “I’ll get your bags.”

  Lyla sat in the chair and watched him go, trying to sort through her feelings. Someone had made a lure and deliberately used it to attract werewolves—her ancient enemies—to her. That was unnerving enough. But the idea that her family might be involved, that made her feel a little sick. And the fact that Aaron was willing to trust her, was out there right now bringing her things he didn’t understand— things involving magic that he couldn’t control…