Limitless: A Reverse Harem Shifter Romance (Crystal Lake Pack Book 1)

by Candace Wondrak

  “When you’re done eating, I want this house clean,” Sarah ordered, sounding very mother-like. Addie knew it was well-deserved, considering what she did, but still. She didn’t like it. “Spick and span. I will white glove this whole place, and if it fails the test, you’ll do it all again tomorrow. And we will continue to play this game until you’re ready to tell me the truth about what happened.”

  Addie set her bowl on the coffee table, finishing chewing and swallowing. “I attacked my professor,” she said quietly, not meeting her mother’s stare, which was far too knowing. Sarah had no idea what had happened. Maybe she should just tell her and get it over with. Maybe then she wouldn’t have to clean the entire house.

  Sarah went to sit beside her, wordlessly commanding her to look at her. Addie bit the inside of her cheek as she met her mother’s gaze. “Addie,” she spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully, calmly, not at all the same upset mother who’d driven two hours to pick her up from her dorm room on a Friday afternoon. “You aren’t the type to attack anyone, even if they deserve it. I didn’t raise you like that. None of your friends were like that. What really happened?”

  She froze at the emphasis her mother put on the question, almost as if…well, it was stupid. Addie would’ve sworn then it was like her mother already knew the truth. But she couldn’t. No way. It just wasn’t possible. When something crazy happened, no one’s first guess was magic.

  “Mom,” Addie whispered, a deadly kind of serious, “I don’t know what happened.” The truth, without exactly saying it. For someone so rooted in reality, lately Addie had been kind of out there.

  Magic wasn’t real.

  The disappointment on her mother’s face was almost palpable. “Well,” Sarah spoke after a heavy sigh, “when you want to talk about it, I’m ready. And I hope you know that, no matter what happens, no matter what you…what you did, I’ll always love you.” She stood and wandered to the front vestibule, where her fortune telling table sat, adorned with skulls and gauzy fabrics of purples and blacks. “I have a reading at ten this morning, so I’ll give you a break from cleaning for thirty minutes, as long as you make yourself scarce.”

  Addie knew what that meant, because she’d heard it so many times while she grew up. Not the cleaning bit, but the making herself scarce part. She had a ritual of wandering to the pond in the middle of the forest, taking a quick walk around it, and then heading back. By the time she returned to the house, her mother was always about done with her readings. It’d been a few months since Addie had to do it, since she’d been away at college, but it was something she’d have to get used to again.

  She wasn’t going to complain, and neither was Sarah. Sarah didn’t want her in the house because she was probably afraid Addie would barge in and say something along the lines of what kind of idiot would believe in this stuff? And then her clients would get mad and leave, most likely without paying. Addie was a little old now to do something so rude and foolish, but a habit was a habit. She’d work on cleaning the darn house from top to bottom for an hour or two and then take a hike.

  Literally.

  Addie hurried to finish her cereal, doing her best to ignore the sounds her mother made and the looks she was given as she went around and dusted and vacuumed and swept.

  The only area of the house Addie was not allowed to touch was her workspace. Sarah was obsessive when it came to her work area and its vibe. One little thing out of place, one spooky drapery hanging slightly off and everything was ruined, in Sarah’s view at least.

  Who the heck even used the word vibe now, besides her mother? Addie wondered. Sarah had always been a little weird compared to her friends’ mothers, but she’d learned not to question it much, because beneath all the hoodoo and the mystical posturing, she loved her mother more than anything. She’d take Sarah over any other ‘normal’ mother any day.

  Once nine forty-five hit, Addie found her mother straightening her work area, even though it needed absolutely nothing. “I’m out, in case they show up early,” she told Sarah, to which her mother just looked at her and nodded once. When it came to her work, she was always serious. So freaking serious. It was their only source of money, so Addie supposed it was good she was so serious about it.

  She left through the backdoor in the kitchen, skipping down the porch until her shoes hit the grass. Bright and green, the grass only gave way to layers and layers of dead leaves the moment she ventured into the forest. Addie reached into her back pocket, pulling out her phone to check her messages.

  Nothing. No texts. No missed calls or voicemails. Not like she really expected anything.

  Depressing, but the truth.

  Addie stopped walking as her eyes practically stared holes through the screen of her phone. Silly as it was, she felt abandoned by the very friends who had sworn to her they’d never forget about her just because they were going to school a few states away. It was silly because she should’ve known what would happen. Long distances put strain on any type of relationship, and friends were always easier to maintain when they were nearby, when she could see them anytime she wanted.

  Addie may have had her mother, but beyond that, she was alone. No extended family, and now no friends. Maybe, in the near future, whatever job her mother would force her to get—because, like she’d said, Addie couldn’t freeload off her forever—would beget her friends. Or at the very least acquaintances that could become friends in time.

  She slipped her phone back into her butt pocket, breathing in deeply once. Around her, the forest was oddly quiet. No birds chirping, no dried-up leaves rustling. Not a bit of wind touched her skin or blew through her brown and pink hair, whose lengths were down and free, cascading down past her shoulders. She needed a trim, but a haircut was the last of her worries.

  The air that filled her lungs was clean. Not like the air had been on her college campus. Big buildings and artificial landscape could only do so much. Nothing could replace the smell of nature. Pure, unbridled nature. Nature knew no boss, no laws. Nature did as she wanted, when she wanted; Addie was jealous. She wanted to be as free as nature was.

  Right now, she would be.

  Addie took off running, wild and fast, as quick as her legs would take her. Her arms pumped beside her, her lungs working hard to keep up with the pace. What should’ve been a fifteen-minute hike turned into a two-minute, high-speed sprint as she leapt over dead, fallen trees and pounded over mounds of decaying, crunchy leaves. Energy she didn’t know she had burst through her system, and when she arrived at the pond, she was barely out of breath.

  She hardly felt like she’d sprinted at all, let alone made the distance so freaking fast. If she didn’t know better, Addie would’ve said it was magic.

  She rolled her eyes at herself as she thought, magic.

  How ridiculous.

  Chapter Three

  It wasn’t magic. Just adrenaline. Addie knew it. Still, though—after what had happened with her professor, it was sort of fun to imagine being magical. The things she could do. Her mother’s jaw would drop to the floor and…

  No, best not to entertain those thoughts, because magic wasn’t real. The closest thing to it was mother nature and the beautiful view laying before her.

  Her pond, tucked away, hidden from the neighborhood by the dense forest. The tree line broke, moss lining the stones around the pond that was no wider than her house. A small body of water, but it was her favorite place. The water was clear, little fish and tadpoles swimming along, frogs resting near the edge, only hopping in and disturbing the serene water when she moved too close to them.

  Addie’s thoughts cleared when she was here. Maybe it was being so secluded, so tucked away from the rest of the world, though she couldn’t say for sure. All she knew was she loved it, and while she would never willingly camp in the forest, she would be happy spending all her time near the pond, painting or drawing or some other crap. If she was creative. But she wasn’t. She was more logical than creative. Writing, drawing, imagi
ning things in her head. The closest she came to doing that was her dreams, and she wasn’t sure those counted for much of anything.

  Exhaling loudly, Addie knelt to slip off her shoes and peel off her socks. She went to the water’s edge and plopped down on the moss, putting her feet into the water. The water’s temperature was far colder than the air, and it gave her an instant chill, one she could not shake, even after she’d withdrawn her feet from its three-inch depths. The air was still warm, not crisp and cold, so why the heck was the water so chilly? Seemed very out of season…

  Addie moved her feet before her, tucking her legs beneath her as she leaned over the edge and stared into the water. She’d hoped to clear her mind and figure out what she was going to do, but unfortunately no miraculous answers came.

  The sun warmed her head and the back of her neck, time passing her by, unaware Addie was caught in a daydream, lost in her own mind.

  What was she supposed to do? What would happen to her if anything ever happened to Sarah? She had no experience, and even if she tried to take over her mother’s business, she knew nothing about tarot cards and seances. Or taxes. She’d be screwed. She’d never make enough to pay for the house and all the bills that came along with owning a house.

  Addie closed her eyes, turning her head up to the sun. The sky today was free of clouds, all bright and warm. It totally went against the mood she was stuck in, but it wasn’t like she could change the weather. Books might have a strange habit of floating around her, but weather was definitely something she could not change.

  Not that she meant she was telepathic, or whatever that power was called. Telekinetic?

  After a while, she pulled out her phone to both check the time and see if any of her so-called friends had finally responded to her sent messages the last few days. It was a minute after ten, and there was nothing but nothing where messages were concerned.

  At least her mother’s appointment should be there now. She could lollygag around the pond for a few more minutes and take a slow hike back. No more running.

  Honestly, Addie wasn’t even sure what had gotten into her when she ran all that way—

  A strange noise rang in the distance, immediately causing the small, white hairs on the back of her neck to stand straight up. It was a sound she knew well, because she’d been to the zoo dozens of times and had watched many animal specials on the Discovery Channel. It was a noise everyone who could hear knew, even if they’d never heard it before.

  A howl.

  A wolf’s howl.

  And it sounded like it came from the direction of her house.

  Addie’s heart pounded in her chest, and she had nothing else on her mind other than Sarah. What if an animal got loose from an exotic pet keeper? She didn’t think there were any of those in the area, but in America, she couldn’t know for certain. Everyone hid something. A coyote was more logical, but the howl was strong, so she knew: it had to be a wolf.

  She hopped up, instantly darting into a sprint, even faster than she was before. If there was a wolf loose in the area, being out in the open was not the place she should be. Addie would get inside, make sure her mother and her client were all right, and call the cops or animal control or somebody, provided Sarah hadn’t already called by the time she got back. There were kids in this neighborhood. It was a Saturday and the weather was warm; there were bound to be children out and about playing. She would not let anything happen to the kids around here.

  This wasn’t to say Addie had some kind of hero complex. She didn’t. But she was as protective of her mother as Sarah was of her, and as for the kids in the neighborhood, well. She’d watched them grow up from afar as she went to the nearby public school. They weren’t her friends or her family, but they were her community. Like…like a makeshift pack. Ironic, considering the wolf’s howl.

  She retraced her steps as fast as she could, running like the Devil himself, sprinting as quickly as her legs could take her without being the Flash. As Addie ran, she heard not another howl, but she wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not, because it could mean the wolf had found a victim, prey that couldn’t defend him or herself against it. What was a man or a woman—or a child, for that matter—supposed to do when a wolf came out of nowhere and attacked?

  Addie leapt up the few steps to the back porch, about to fling herself through the screen door when she heard her mother’s voice drifting out from the opened kitchen window, “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Addie’s legs stopped. That…was definitely not how she talked to any of her clients. Did she know them?

  “What the hell am I doing here?” It was a man’s voice. Older, by the sound of the scratchiness, the lowness of the timbre. “You know why I’m here, Sarah.” A pause before the old man added, “What did you do to him?”

  “A little something Arthur taught me. Don’t worry, your pup will turn back soon enough. Now get the hell out of my house!”

  Addie recoiled at the strength behind her mother’s voice. Even after what happened with her professor, she’d never heard Sarah sound quite like that. Utterly enraged, blood boiling in her veins. She hardly sounded like her mother.

  Who the heck was this guy, and what were they talking about?

  She lingered by the screen door, glancing once at the kitchen window, which sat ten feet away. Addie was unsure whether or not she should go in, but with that howl, not to mention the strange stuff they were saying, she didn’t really have a choice. She had to go in.

  “You and the girl don’t belong here, Sarah,” the old man said. His haughty tone made Addie’s decision easier.

  She’d go in and tell that guy who’s boss. Hint: it wasn’t him.

  Addie barged through the back door, the screen swinging shut behind her as she headed into the kitchen—a room of the house no client was ever invited into. Who the heck was…her thoughts trailed off when every set of eyes in the kitchen turned to look at her.

  Her mother’s cheeks were red with fury, her eyes narrowed. The old man had made himself at home, sitting easily at the head of the kitchen table. His skin wrinkled and peppered with sunspots, his eyes a light hazel, nearly identical to the color of her mother’s. Grey hair, grey goatee. He had to be nearly seventy years old. The old man appraised Addie as she did him, but it was hard to focus on either him or Sarah when there was a third set of eyes staring at her.

  They sat much lower than the other pairs of eyes watching her, and they were much rounder, a bit larger…an almost reflective brown hue with a sheen of gold over it. Set in a large, furry head behind a snout that housed sharp teeth and beneath a pair of ears that were intent and focused on her.

  There was a freaking wolf in their kitchen, and her mother and the old stranger were acting as if it were no more than a dog.

  “Mom,” Addie whispered, reaching down to grab…well, there was nothing in arm’s reach, so she took off her right shoe and held onto it like it was a dangerous knife. Or a rock. Or something. The drawer with the knives was on the other side of the kitchen, so she had to improvise. “I’m going to distract it. When I do, run over here.”

  Sarah said nothing, her eyes widening as if she finally, finally realized what mess she was in. Not only was a strange old man in their kitchen, but also a freaking wolf.

  Addie threw her shoe before her mother had the chance to reply, and it was a good throw, too. Hard and fast and…

  The freaking wolf caught her shoe, snapping its jaws around her tennis shoe and definitely popping a hole or two through the side fabric. Addie watched, her mouth hanging open, as the wolf slowly trotted across the kitchen floor, the nails on its paws clicking with each step on the tile. She couldn’t move, out of fear or maybe it was something else; she only watched as the wolf walked up to her, carefully setting her shoe down on the floor before her.

  “Uh,” was Addie’s brilliant response as she stared down the wolf.

  The frigging thing stood higher than her hips, its head so…well, thick and hairy. As
she always imagined a wolf’s head was. Its color was mainly white, a dull, light yellow with a few black strands, as if its coat couldn’t decide what color it wanted to be.

  Was this thing the old guy’s pet? Did it think she was playing fetch with it?

  The wolf sat on its back haunches, the lower part of its muzzle falling as it breathed in through its mouth, much like a dog. Panting. Its eyes met hers, knowing enough to look her in the face. The look on its face was almost intelligent, like it understood how freaked out she was and wanted to make her feel better.

  She would not, not even as the wolf cocked its head in the adorable way dogs did when they encountered something new.

  “Mom,” Addie spoke slowly, refusing to break eye contact with the wolf in fear it would lunge at her while she wasn’t looking, “why…why is there a wolf and an old man in our kitchen? Why aren’t you freaking out? Why—” Addie’s question was interrupted by the wolf sitting in front of her.

  The animal let out a loud bark, wagging its tail.

  The old man turned her mother. “You really have told her nothing, all these years? She has the right to know, to make her own decision.” He did not address her, and Addie did not particularly enjoy the cold shoulder, acting like she wasn’t even in the room.

  “What are you talking about?” Addie demanded, finally looking away from the wolf, meeting Sarah’s eyes.

  Sarah, caught in an intense frown, managed to say, “Addie, this…” She motioned to the sitting old man. “This is Henry, your…he’s your grandfather.” Unwilling and begrudging, it was clear she didn’t want to say it.