Clayton (The Wildflower Series Book 1)

by Rachelle Mills

  Sometimes her head angles to the side so her eye glares at me before looking out the window again. I know she can feel me staring at her. I can’t look away, so I just stare at the back of her head.

  Cash doesn’t say a word to me. His head is turned away in his own little purgatory. He pretends to focus his concentration on what’s outside the car window, but I bet all he can think about are what truths he’s learned.

  I want to scream in his face, to keep putting that effort in, don’t quit now, big guy. Show me what strength you have inside to fight for what’s yours.

  Instead, I just let the silence hang outside my mouth, not saying a word.

  I can see some of Cash’s brothers looking at him in pity. He doesn’t deserve this. I can see sharp teeth lift ever so slightly toward Kennedy. Can she feel all those teeth around her from every direction?

  When we stop to eat, I’m placed right beside Luna Grace on her left. Cash is on his father’s left, so that means I had to sit directly across from Kennedy. She keeps her eyes diverted the whole time. I don’t think she really wants to eat, but that body of hers is just beginning with its ultimate betrayal.

  Her heat makes it impossible not to eat as it starts to prepare itself for a future. She eats everything on her plate and finishes off Cash’s food as well.

  He didn’t feed her from his hand, but he did offer her what was left over. Her heat will be in full swing soon, her body packing away the extra calories that are needed to nurture and sustain a future life.

  The Luna looks at Kennedy’s empty plates with a knowing look.

  “Are you still hungry, Kennedy?” Her words are spoken without violence this time.

  “Yes,” she answers truthfully. Is this the first truth she has told these wolves?

  She looks at all the plates on the table still having some food on them. It’s the Alpha who breaks his sandwich in half, handing it to Cash, only for him to put it on her plate. The rest of the brothers follow, their posture not comfortable with what they are doing, but they follow their father’s example.

  The Luna puts some of her meal on her plate as well. I’m the only one who hasn’t contributed. I’m holding in my hand what I was saving for last.

  It’s the first thing I smelled when I entered this restaurant, fresh handmade rolls. Whoever made it added raisins and walnuts while kneading the dough. Sugar sprinkles the top with a small dusting of cinnamon.

  No one is looking at me, but they’re all watching in their own way. I take a deep breath. I have to imagine this as feeding the potential life she might host inside herself and not really feeding her. With one more smell of the roll, I place it on her plate. My jaw clenches tight as I look at my own empty plate.

  I’m still hungry, except I have no future my body is preparing for.

  Cash’s eyes lift to mine in surprise before he gets up, walking away from the table and out the door, letting it close gently behind him.

  Kennedy begins to eat everything else that’s on her plate, the hormones of her heat driving her to consume as much as possible.

  She doesn’t say a word of thanks; she just eats what’s offered to her.

  Luna Grace has a smile on her face, watching her devour the food in greed.

  “I remember my heats. I couldn’t get enough food or you in me.” She turns sultry eyes to her male. Her sons start to pretend to gag at the table, looking uncomfortable, while Alpha Clinton grabs her hand in his big mitts. He brings her fingertips to his smiling mouth, kissing them.

  “We’re right here, sitting right here.” Carson wipes his napkin over his mouth, spitting the last of his food in it before getting up and joining Cash outside. The rest of her males just shake their heads at them.

  “Rya, when can we expect your heat to come?” If I had food in my mouth, I would have choked, spitting the contents out on the table. The two remaining males’ chairs scrape against the tile floor as they push them away in absolute disgust. They make their way outside, leaving the four of us alone together. Kennedy continues to shove food in her face while I pale.

  “I’ve never had one.” Best to be truthful. Why lie now?

  “You’re sterile?” Alpha Clinton words tumble out, while Kennedy actually looks at me in open-mouthed shock, to the point I can see her chewed-up food.

  “Impossible. You smell fertile, almost as if you are always just beginning your heat,” Luna Grace confesses.

  “I never went through one.” My head hangs shamefully. This is my secret no one has ever known until now. I should have told Dallas about this before I left, but there was no time to talk before I decided to go away with his family.

  Kennedy’s full attention is on the conversation as she takes the first bite of that bun I gave her. I can see how it must have hit her taste buds the way she savors the flavor of it.

  An image flashes in my brain of me snatching the bun back and shoving it in my mouth, eating the rest of it. I don’t act on that thought; I have to put my hands underneath my thighs, locking them in place.

  “I’m going to wait outside with our males.” Alpha Clinton just throws some money on the table, more than enough to cover everything as he walks away.

  “You’re just a late bloomer, Rya. I think that once my son marks you that you will experience your first heat.” She says these words, but I can’t believe what she says.

  “Maybe.” One word was spoken to the Luna that conveys my doubt.

  Kennedy finally finishes everything. I notice her undoing the top button of her pants that are cutting into the smooth skin of her belly. She keeps her head down as she makes her way outside to the waiting vehicle, the Luna in between us as we walk.

  This is the longest ride I have ever taken, the landscape changing now. Instead of the great sentinel pines with whispering willow trees that I’m used to, a northern forest starts to take hold, tall pines, firs, hemlocks, and spruces littering the land we are driving in.

  Pulling onto a dirt road off the main highway, we come to a ridge looking down the steep slope. We get to take in the grand expanse of nature that humbles my soul. Even Kennedy’s eyes are taking all this in. The wind up here hurtles itself against the vehicle, making it swerve slightly with each gust. I think a storm is going to hit very soon.

  Firs are packed so densely together that all you can see down below is a canopy of green tipped in white.

  Another hour on this road has small houses tucked into the forest’s edge, with a lake behind them. They look like summer cottages, but smoke is coming out of all the chimneys, saying this is all year-round living.

  I can’t help but look outside and take everything in. I have only been out of my pack to train, and even then I was really not allowed to explore on my own.

  We pull up to a moderate-sized home. It has a windmill, and solar panels on the roof, fully self-sufficient.

  All the males get out of the car as one. They go to the back and pull bags out, loading them up their arms.

  Cash sticks close to his baggage, pulling Kennedy along by the wrist.

  She doesn’t try to pull away from his grasp, and I can actually see the small shiver that affects her skin. I wonder if Clayton ever made her skin shiver like that. I’m sure he made her legs quiver, but did he ever shiver her skin with just a touch?

  Walking inside a mud room, I see coats and robes hung along one wall with boots lining the ground. I follow behind everyone, and we come into a very large kitchen. It’s what I dream about the way old fashion mixes with just a touch of modern. It’s clean and full of the smells of homemade love.

  “Cash, do you want the spare room for Kennedy?” Like it’s his decision where she sleeps. She doesn’t look at him. Instead, her head is bowed, looking at the tile floor, very docile.

  “She can have the spare room.” I can see the relief uncoil the tension in her shoulders.

  “Rya, that means you can have my son’s room. It’s his juvenile room. It really hasn’t been changed since he had his own house built.” G
iving a slight smile, I’m somewhat apprehensive to intrude on his space.

  Before I left, he asked me to go through all his things, look through every drawer, every nook, even under his mattress. He told me he had a home there that the pack got together and built them. He hasn’t stepped foot in it since her death. He encouraged me to go through everything, and when I find something that is hard for me to understand to call him about it and we’ll discuss it. I still have to tell him about me and everything that I haven’t gotten a chance to inform him about.

  I walk through the living room. It’s an eclectic blend of furniture, nothing matching, but everything working well together.

  “This is beautiful.” My voice is soft as I run my fingertips along the wooden cabinet that holds a china doll collection. Even Kennedy comes over to admire the piece before us.

  “My mate found that old piece of wood at the dump. She had me bring it back here, and she fixed up, and now it’s the most beautiful piece of furniture we own. She’s really good at repairing broken and thrown away things. As long as the core isn’t rotten, she can fix anything. You wouldn’t believe what that looked like before she got her hands on it. Took her awhile, she put in a lot of effort and time in, but in the end, it turned out beautiful.” He wraps his arms around his mate, kissing her neck. They have perfect symmetry.

  Their love seems so easy.

  “Kennedy, we expect certain thing out of you, and one of those things is respect. If you respect the rules here, we should have no problems.” That Silverback male’s eyes warn her not to step out of line.

  “Little moon, I’m coming for you early in the morning. Please be ready.” My eyes find his again. I just can’t help but try and stare him down.

  Something deep within me wants to be his master.

  He doesn’t look away. Instead, he takes the first step toward me, those eyes pinning me in my place. “I’m going to teach you how to back that up.” His hands go over my eyes, closing them for me.

  “If you look at me that way again, I’m going to have to put you down hard.” I think I’m in over my head as I watch his massive body walk away from me, taking his female by the hand.

  “Come on, I’ll take you upstairs to his room.” Carson tugs on my arm, so I follow him. Kennedy and Cash are already ahead of me on the steps.

  “This is his room.” A giant number one painted in white is on the door. In the paint, I also notice the awful curses written inside the number.

  “We didn’t like how he put that number up outside his room, so we let him know what we thought of him.” Carson smiles with the memories.

  I can’t help but laugh at all the funny things they wrote to him, brothers and their unique way of communicating love.

  My eyes fall again to all the name calling, but then I notice the I love you, the get better, the I’m here for you, brother, we love her. This must have been written after the death of his mate. It almost makes my eyes water seeing this in a good way, in a way that they care about him.

  My attention swings to the door beside Dallas’s room as Cash leans in toward Kennedy with a sinister stare.

  “Remember, Kennedy, if you try to run, this is my land, and I know every inch of it. I will find you, bring you back, and collar you until you won’t remember who you are.” A look of horror crosses her face. I believe in my soul he will do it if she gets out of line; he’s that type of wolf.

  She quickly glides past him before closing the door behind her quietly. He just stands there, inhaling, as his forehead goes against the wooden door frame.

  Their canvas is bruised and torn at the edges, splitting down the middle. His face shows his sorrow and misery. He runs his fingers through his hair that’s just starting to grow out from being shaved regularly. His eyes turn to mine. I’ve been caught gawking. His layers exposed, his gaze burns into mine. He looks so defeated before turning away from me and entering his own room for the night.

  Entering Dallas’s room, I take a big breath as pictures of his youth smile back at me. His brothers from all sorts of ages, his friends, her, they all stare back at me with stories to tell.

  Putting my bag on the bed, I sit on the edge while looking around.

  It’s a big room with an attached bathroom. It really doesn’t smell like him; his scent is stale, only barely clinging inside this space that was once his own.

  Letters on his desk catch my eye. They look like they have been crumpled up at some time, only to be smoothed out again in reverence.

  I lean over and pick one up. It’s addressed to Clayton Dallas Valentine, his acceptance letter to medical school. I drop the letter, and it floats down like a feather drifting from side to side as it lands gracefully at my feet.

  Pulling out my phone, I place my first call to him.

  He picks up, not letting it ring twice.

  “What’s your first name?” My voice feels different, like someone else is saying these words.

  He responds instantly.

  “Clayton.”

  I need to sit down. His mattress is firm without a lot of give. Hanging up on him, I toss the phone away.

  Let my pain begin.

  Acknowledgements

  First, I have to start off by thanking my family—Scott, Hailee, and Phoenix—for your incredible understanding of time. Thank you for letting me be engrossed in the world of the Valentines.

  I need to thank Naoures, Monica, Ethel, Portia, Sarah, Farah, Micha (Sarah), Lidia, and Petra, for holding my hand when I needed it the most. Your encouragement have brought me here today.

  About the Author

  Rachelle Mills lives in Canada with her family and two dogs. She's a lover of all things that have to do with Nature and Wildlife.

  Mills has won acclaim from readers for her fantastically realized paranormal werewolf universes, where alpha males fight tooth and claw and society – more often than not – is determined to make the path of true love as rocky and uncomfortable as possible.

  Her rich, paranormal universe is packed with characters that frustrate and enthrall readers with an expert grasp of the complexities of the primal fight that werewolves have; their human, controlled side, and the vicious, ugly, and virtually untamable were-side which can leave a trail of destruction in its wake.

  Mills’ writing style is charged with emotion and richly descriptive, bringing the universe of her often-gritty stories into vivid life.

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