by Kitt Rose
Being different wasn't all bad though. I was better prepared for Alpha than anyone who had ever ruled Homeplace. By chance or fate, I'd been chosen. There were two options available: stepping up to the challenge, or fighting against the current the entire way. The choice was obvious.
I pulled up in front of the main house and climbed out of the truck. How should I approach Joshua with this problem? Our relationship was rocky at best. Had been since Libby, though that had only been the straw that broke the camel's back.
Before my boots could touch the front stoop, the door opened.
My Alpha stood there, screen door held in a silent invitation into his home. I slipped past him and waited inside. Joshua led me into his office, closing the pocket doors behind us and moving to sit behind his mammoth oak desk. The surface was pristine, the dark-stained wood gleaming.
Joshua liked order. No, that wasn't quite right. Joshua demanded order. He wore nothing but pristine white polos and perfectly pressed chinos. His dark hair was cropped close, and his beard was always neat and well-groomed.
Back when I'd first started training to take over the Pack, Joshua intimidated me. Badly. Watching Joshua steeple his hands and stare, would have made me squirm and shake with nerves.
But this was a familiar game, one I'd become very good at. Joshua wanted me to break, to be the first to speak. The technique was useful in some situations and was remarkably effective at getting the guilty to reveal themselves. Bring in a young pack member, suspected of hunting on human lands or other mischief, stick them on the opposite side of that imposing desk and just stare. No more than five minutes would pass and they would stutter out excuses. But I understood the intricacies of intimidation.
Everything between us had become an elaborate exercise in dominance. Joshua was as resentful of my presence in his pack as he was proud. It was no secret that he'd wanted Greg, his oldest son, to become Alpha. In fact, Greg had been chosen and was several years into his training when I'd discovered what I was.
Joshua had taken the news harder than Greg—who didn't seem to mind much that he was no longer slated to be Alpha.
The room was silent, except for the ticking of an antique grandfather clock in the corner.
Seven minutes of the staredown passed before Joshua said, “What brings you 'round? Wasn't expectin' you.”
I relaxed, propping an elbow on the wide arm of my chair. “My mate, Liberty Dahl, moved back to Homeplace last night. I plan on claiming her.” I wouldn't ask for permission, even if it was the protocol for taking a human mate. No Protean was allowed to mate with a human without disclosing what they would be getting themselves into. It was half a deterrent against too many humans, and half a test to see if they could handle the knowledge.
“Liberty… Why does that name sound familiar?”
I clenched my teeth then forced myself to relax. “You know exactly who she is. You and my father did not approve of my half-human mate, so you sent me away.”
“Ah. Aaron's get. Yes, your father—”
“Don't,” I said. “It was not just my father.”
Joshua sighed, relaxing into his chair. “Must we do this again? You say she's returned. And you plan to reveal what you are to her soon? I suppose you are quite set on this.” He picked at an invisible spot on his shirt. “Have you considered what the Pack will think of you claiming a human as your mate?”
“We have many human mates in Homeplace.”
“The Marked Alphas do not. It is known. Many will see it as an insult to the purity of your blood. Choosing a human, outside of the Pack—”
“Her father is pack, as is all of his living family. And Libby was raised here with the Pack.”
“With. Not as.”
A guttural noise of frustration eked out of my throat. “Enough. Even if I wanted to choose another, which I do not, I couldn't. I am Marked. My mate is fated. She is the other half of my soul. Meant to bring balance to myself and the rest of the Pack.”
Joshua snorted. “You don't really believe that rubbish. You can't.”
“How can I not?” I said, bitter at the irony of Joshua's words. “My entire life has been because of that rubbish, as you call it. I am that doctrine. But that's not the reason I am here.
“I need your help. A witch cursed Liberty. Johnny found a hex bag in her things. It smelled of blood and death. More than that, her possessions reeked of another Protean. A Protean wolf. And she was living in Georgia.”
Joshua sat up, the bored insolence slipping from his face, and his eyes went alert. “A wolf in Georgia? In the summer? That seems… Unlikely.”
“Yes, and the coincidence of it? I don't buy it.”
Joshua's normally passive face screwed up in a frown. “I agree. It does seem odd. What do you need me to do?”
Relief poured through my veins. “Well…”
7
Libby
“Where are we?” I asked Johnny, climbing out of his truck.
He'd parked at the end of a long gravel driveway. The modest two-story house at the end of the drive was yellow, with a cheery white porch and a bold red door. Behind a generous yard, hip-high wheat fields swayed in the evening breeze. They seemed to glow golden-orange as the sun dipped toward the horizon.
Those fields were the Stefan's. At this end of town, I'd put money on it.
“It's a surprise,” Johnny said, placing a guiding hand in the center of my back. He pushed me forward, up the car and truck filled drive.
“Either this is a party or whoever lives here has the world's largest, and worst, car collection.”
Johnny snorted. “You just gotta pick, don't you? Can't let us surprise you.”
I sighed. “Oh, all right.”
“Big of you,” he said, sarcasm heavy in his voice.
I turned and stuck my tongue out at him. He just chuckled, tugging on my braid.
We stepped onto the porch and Johnny pushed open the front door, ushering me inside. The house smelled of food. Seared meat and charcoal, garlic, and sweet potato. My mouth watered at the scents and my stomach gurgled audibly.
“I'm so hungry I could eat the ass-end of a cow,” Johnny murmured, directing me toward the back of the house.
“Of a dead rhino…” I corrected, nervously smoothing my dress over my hips.
“What?” Johnny asked.
“The saying is 'I'm so hungry I could eat the ass-end of a dead rhino.'” Why I knew that, I had no clue.
He shook his head, leading me through the living room. “That doesn't make sense. Where the hell would I get a rhino?”
Someone had decorated the house in country comfort and charm, living room opening to a formal dining room with a built-in china cabinet and long cherry table. Both rooms were deserted. But when we pushed through into the kitchen, my breath caught.
The room was filled with people. Familiar faces everywhere. Papa's was the first I saw.
My grandpa looked exactly the same as I remembered, though that shouldn't have been possible. He was a little grayer, a little leaner. He looked like Johnny, minus the beard and long hair. Gripping his elbow tight was Gigi. Her blond hair was piled on her head, threaded with silver, and her bright blue eyes wet with tears. On her I could see the years, in the greying hair and the laugh lines around her eyes and mouth. Time and age didn't matter, she was still beautiful.
My heart galloped into a race. I took a hesitant step forward. And then Papa was there, sweeping me up into his arms. I burrowed into his embrace, feeling like a child again. That elusive sensation of being safe, simply because you were in a person's arms, filled me. The contentment deepened when Gigi's arms wrapped around me from behind. The smell of her lily of the valley soap was subtle but familiar enough to tear at the rawness inside me. Tears spilled from my eyes, coursing down my cheeks, as a flood of memories fired across my synapses. And as good as this felt, there was a huge gaping hole in the middle of our reunion—a Justice shaped hole.
My brother should be here. With me
.
God, I missed him.
Papa placed a rough kiss on my temple, his stubble abrasive against my skin. Then, Gigi gave me another squeeze before they both stepped away. Another body slipped into the space they vacated, and this time my heart stuttered in my chest.
My father. Aaron Dahl.
Justice and I both favored him. But he looked so much like my late twin it was the sweetest agony. Only his green eyes, a gift from his mother, were different—my brother had shared my brown eyes.
“Dad,” I croaked, tasting the salt of tears on my lips.
“Liberty, sweetheart,” he said with a smile, his eyes shining with moisture.
Moving slowly, as if I might startle, he folded me into his embrace. His body was tense, until I returned his hug with interest, fiercely pulling him closer.
Once my arms looped around him, he relaxed. I was sure he thought I would push him away, reject him. But I never would. Even if he'd never been much of a father, I loved him, and I knew he loved me. He hadn't been ready for the responsibility of kids and probably never would.
When he released me and stepped back, I could see questions in his face. And regret. That burned in his eyes so strongly that I sucked in a sharp breath.
“I'm glad you're home. And so sorry about Justice. I-I can't imagine—” His voice broke, and he shook his head. “Later. Right now you've still got a few more people wanting to say hello.”
He stepped away, almost reluctantly, and Izzy came forward. Ash's little sister was two years younger than me. We had never been particularly close, but I had always known and liked her. A pretty girl when I'd left, she'd turned into a beautiful woman. Tall and leggy, with thick blond hair and sky-blue eyes, she was a living, breathing Barbie doll. If not for her bright and genuine smile, I might have hated her a little.
If Izzy was Barbie, her husband certainly could have passed for Ken. He was brunette, with brown eyes, a dazzling white smile, and chiseled jaw.
She gave me a big hug and introduced me to her hunky husband. “This is my husband, Caleb.”
“Nice to meet you,” Caleb said, shaking my hand.
“How'd y'all meet?” I asked.
Izzy giggled. “Y'all? You just said y'all.”
I glared, smiling to soften the effect. “It ain't the only thing I picked up down south.”
“It's cute. I like it,” she said, then answered my question. “I went to visit Ash while he was out in California, right after you left, and met Caleb there. And the rest, as they say, is history—well, many years of long-distance dating later.” She giggled again.
I frowned, shifting to look at her husband. “You were in college with Ash?”
He looked Izzy's age—at least five years younger than Ash. Far too young to have been a classmate of Ash's.
“No. I'm—” Caleb started.
Ash interrupted. “He's one of my college buddy's younger brother.”
Caleb frowned, looking between Ash and me. Izzy reached out swiftly and squeezed his hand, hard enough that his frown turned into a flinch.
My eyes narrowed. What the hell?
I didn't have time to pursue it.
“Miss America,” Elliot boomed, shoving everyone else out of the way to lift me off my feet in a bear hug punctuated with jarring bounces. “How in the hell are ya?”
I gasp for breath, my arms pinned to my sides no matter how hard I struggled. “Let. Me. Down.” I had never liked this as a kid, and as an adult, I liked it even less.
“Not done yet,” he said on a laugh, then spun me.
Yelping, I kicked at his shins, making Elliot curse in pain. But thankfully, he stopped spinning, frowning at me with mock severity.
He was still too pretty. The ridiculous frown, that morphed into a pout, highlighted his beauty. Elliot had always been just a little too good looking. His pale blond ringlets created a soft halo around his head, making him look cherubic. Eyes of the deepest blue, set wide, gave him the deceptive appearance of innocence. Deceptive because behind that perfect face, he was a demon.
That plush mouth, with the sculpted cupid's bow, masked a sharp tongue to match a sharper wit.
Trouble. That's what Elliot Stefan was and had always been. And it looked like he hadn't changed at all.
“Put her down,” Ash said, and I snapped my gaze to him.
He stood at my left, frowning at Elliot.
“Me turn,” a small voice said.
I felt a hand patting my leg, and Elliot finally lowered me to the ground, turning to face a toddler with the same blonde ringlets.
Ash squatted in front of her, giving a curl a gentle tug. “Hey, Squirt.”
She spread her arms out, and Ash picked her up, turning her to face me.
A grin spread across her face, and with that smile, I was pretty sure she was Izzy's child.
“Is she yours?” I asked her. “She looks just like you did as a kid.”
Izzy nodded, swooping in to kiss the little girl's cheek. “Princess, this is Libby. Can you say Libby?”
“Ib-be,” she said, with no small amount of pride.
“Great job,” I said, a pang in my chest. I forced myself to smile despite the pain. “How old are you?”
Izzy answered for her, “Two. Sarah just had a birthday.”
I barely contained my gasp. Sarah…
Izzy was watching my face, so I forced myself to renew my smile. Stretching my mouth into something that was brittle and fake.
And then the child reached for me.
My body went cold, the blood draining from my face. I didn't think about what anyone might see. I took a step back, wringing my hands.
The child's face fell, and Izzy reached out, taking her daughter from Ash. “So, Lib… You ever been married? Have any kids?” Izzy said, her expression shrewd.
She was fishing. Izzy had seen something in my face, something I didn't want seen.
“Um, no kids.” I cleared my throat, hoping my face wasn't red. “But—but I was married.”
The room had been filled with soft conversations, the rustle of clothing, footsteps. All of that stopped suddenly.
Into the sudden silence, Ash asked, “What?”
“Married?” Johnny said over the top of him. “You divorced?”
I took a deep, shaking breath, then shook my head. “No. He… Daniel, his name was Daniel. He died in a car accident three years ago.”
A bright light strobed on my left, pain blossomed behind my eyeball. I blinked away the phantom. My left hand went to my temple and massaged the dull ache automatically.
“Holy shit,” Johnny said. “How long were you…?”
I looked at Ash and flinched at the expression on his face. Betrayal. Hurt. Anger. They were all there, crystal clear in his expression.
Tears flooded my eyes again, my cheeks still wet from the previous crying bout. Unconsciously, I took a step back, putting distance between Ash and me. His eyes, which had been focused at something beyond me, zeroed in and his gaze hardened.
The emotions cleared, and he said in a dead voice, “You didn't mention you were married.”
My heart, already bleeding in my chest, began to throb. I'd hurt him. I didn't want to hurt him. Whatever this was, whatever lingered from before, I wanted that. Hadn't realized how much I'd wanted it until just now. The chance that should have been ours when I was sixteen, I wanted that more than words, and it scared the shit out of me.
I shook my head, looking directly into those violet eyes. “You have to understand that things were really bad when I met Daniel. I was seventeen. Mom had just died, and Mick had kicked Justice and me out of the house. We were dodging CPS, lying to everyone. I went and got a job with Walgreens working the register up front. There was a pharmacy intern that worked in the back, Daniel Johnston. He was a few years older than me. We used to eat lunch together nearly every day. At first it was just a coincidence, but then…
“Daniel's mom was Korean, his dad American. He was from Virginia and was as ho
mesick as me. We became friends, then we started dating. It's a really long story, but basically Justice got a scholarship offer to a school a couple hours away. He was going to turn it down to stay and take care of me out of some misguided sense of sibling responsibility. Daniel had an apartment, and he invited me to move in. But his mom didn't like that, so we decided to get married.”
I spun around and walked to the table, dropping into a chair and folding my hands in front of me. A hangnail on my pinky became fascinating, and I talked to it, picking at the skin. “I'm not saying we only got married because of that, but we did rush things. Daniel was really good to me. Treated me well. He loved me. We were actually celebrating the anniversary of our first date at this little hole in the wall bar and grill with the best ribs when...”
I sucked in a painful breath, forcing myself to keep talking. 'He was driving. A drunk driver T-boned us. On Daniel's side. We were both pinned in the car. The driver of the other car died on impact. I held Daniel's hand, screaming for help, unable to get to him. I just had to hold his hand and watch him die.” I was babbling, and forced my mouth closed.
Swallowing convulsively, I shuddered, my eyes darting to Sarah. She had a thumb in her mouth, her eyes closed, head lolling against Izzy's shoulder. Movement pulled my eyes away as Ash dropped into the chair next to me, lifting me out of my chair and into his lap, into his arms.
“Lib, I…” He made this noise deep in his chest, a sort of growl that rattled under my ear.
I nodded, my hair sliding against his shirt. “It's fine. I'm fine,” I lied. I would never be fine. “Justice was there for me when all that happened. And it's been years.”
“It's not fine. No one should have to go through that. Especially not without family behind them. And yes, Justice was family, but we should have been there,” Gigi said, taking the chair on the other side of me and placing a warm hand on my back.
There was something like guilt in her voice, but I didn't understand why she would feel guilty.