Enforcing Boundaries (The Boundaries Series Book 1)

by Eva Harper

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 Eva Harper

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  ISBN: 9781651492635

  Enforcing Boundaries

  Eva Harper

  Book 1 of the Boundaries Series

  Dedicated to my loving and supportive family. I owe everything I am to you.

  Part 1

  When I Was 4

  “Margo.”

  My eyes snapped open in the dim room, and my mother came into view. She looked worried, but a small smile graced her pink lips as she spoke to me. In my sleepy haze, I didn’t realize what she was whispering as she grabbed my hand and pulled me out of my bedroom. My father was waiting in the hallway, dressed in his black coat and work boots. His skin nearly blended with the coat, something I used to tease him about, but he would remind me that my own skin nearly blended with my tan coat, and I would giggle at the thought.

  His face was stern as he bent down in front of me and grabbed onto my shoulders.

  “Margo, I need you to be a big girl, honey,” he whispered, stroking the side of my face. “Listen to me and Momma and be very quiet.”

  “Daddy,” I whimpered, looking between him and my mother.

  “Shh,” my mother hushed, pulling my arms into my coat, and handed my father my old black shoes. He lifted me into them and buckled the latch around my foot. They each took one of my hands in theirs and pulled me down the hallway of our tiny apartment building. As we exited the building, they looked out at the guards that stood watch over our small human compound.

  There were only a few of us left in the building after that winter. My mother told me the other family had moved to a different pack, and the older lady that lived next to us had gone to visit her son. Now there were only twelve of us, including our small family.

  The werewolves lived around us in big homes. Some of them lived in the packhouse on the edge of the territory; they were important, and I was told never to speak to them.

  “Which way?” my mother whispered to my father.

  “East,” my father told her, pulling us along the perimeter of the building. I stumbled between them, but they held me up by my arms and pulled me along. They exchanged a few whispers, but I continued to stare at their feet, wondering why we were leaving our home in the middle of the night.

  We made it halfway across the territory before one of the guards saw us between the trees. He called out for us to stop and began running towards us. My mother picked me up in her arms and started running, my father right next to us. My head faced over her shoulder, and I watched as the wolves slowly closed in on us. My father had placed his hand on my mother’s shoulder and told her to run as fast as she could before he stopped and faced the wolves.

  My mother faltered and turned around to look at my father as the guards tackled him to the ground and forced his arms behind his back. She whimpered and placed a hand on my head, running faster.

  The shifters caught us seconds later.

  I was ripped from my mother’s arms as they pulled her hands behind her and tied her wrists with rope. One of the guards held his hand out for me, and I naively took it and began walking beside him, behind the guards who were guiding my parents. They walked us back to the packhouse, where the Alpha had been alerted of our escape and was waiting with his guards.

  He glared down at us as the guards forced my mother and father to their knees and placed me beside them. The Alpha declared that we would be punished in the early morning when more of the pack could see us. They carted my mother and father off to the cells in the basement of the packhouse. We were rarely allowed inside the packhouse, and as we walked, I looked around in wonder. It was a grand place, filled with beautiful things, none of which I could touch.

  The guard who held my hand pulled me a little quicker and allowed me to share a cell with my mother. I fell asleep in her lap, playing with her long blonde hair, tired from the running, and being woken up; I don’t think she ever slept.

  In the morning, one of the guards came and removed us from the cells. The same guard who held my hand came back and walked me behind my parents, again, to the front of the packhouse. There, a large pole was placed in the front yard with a rope sectioning off the area. Most of the pack stood around it, watching us arrive from the basement. I had never seen so much of the pack before. Each time they gathered, we were not permitted to attend.

  The Luna, an older lady who always had a scowl on her face, motioned to the guard to bring me to her. He walked me over and waited for me to let go of his hand. I didn’t want to, and the Luna peeled my fingers from him and placed her clawed hand on my shoulder to keep me in place.

  They dragged my father to the pole and tied his hands around it. The Alpha walked up beside him on the small, makeshift stage and began speaking loudly. I wasn’t paying attention to him; I was looking at my father, who had tears streaming down his face. He never cried before. My mother was on the other side of the rope, calling out his name, “Levi! Levi!” but her voice was drowned out by the Alpha’s loud tone.

  My father called her name and mine, trying to find out where we were. “Viviana! Margo!” he cried, xc turning his head to either side, searching for us in the crowd.

  The Alpha picked up a long, brown object, and the crowd around us cheered. I looked around in confusion until the Luna turned my head forward. The Alpha raised the object and struck it hard against my father’s back. My father cried out as his shirt split open, and blood started running down his back. I whimpered, afraid to cry out.

  The Alpha continued whipping my father for several more minutes, growing excited as the crowd around us cheered. My mother fought against the guards with tears streaming down her face, crying out my father’s name as he sunk further and further down the pole.

  Eventually, the Alpha stopped and set down the whip. My father was no longer moving when the Alpha stepped off the stage and allowed the guards holding my mother to bring her up to the pole. They tied her around the same pole as my father and called out for the other guards to join them. My mother sobbed loudly as she stood over my father, his bloodied and battered body in shreds on the floor.

  Eight or nine guards surrounded my mother and began tearing her clothes off. She screamed, but no one came to help her as they took turns raping her and beating her. The Luna behind me grabbed my chin and forced me to watch as they tore my mother apart. Tears silently dripped down my cheeks, but my mouth remained locked shut.

  I don’t know how long it was before one of the guards hit her in the back, and her spine snapped in two. She was instantly quiet as her body fell to the ground on top of my father’s body. They left her there as the guards climbed down from the stage and retreated to the packhouse.

  The Luna let go of my shoulder and stepped away from me, walking towards her mate, the Alpha. They were in charge of all the werewolves, and incidentally, the humans in the pack. They began speaking, pointing, and staring at me, trying to decide what to do with a newly orphaned four-year-old.

  I continued to stare at my parent’s bodies until a boy with honey-colored hair stepped in front of me. He smiled, revealing his missing front teeth and waved his hand slightly. I lifted mine and waved sadly before I tucked my chin into my chest. He grabbed my hand, and I looked up at the boy who was still smiling, blissfully unaware of what had just happened. In a way, I was too.

  “My name is Caddy
,” he grinned.

  “I’m Margo,” I whispered, wiping the tears from my ruddy cheeks with my palms.

  “Do you want to be my friend?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. I nodded my head and allowed him to pull me behind him. We walked past the Alpha and Luna, who seemed fine with our arrangement.

  “I don’t have a lot of friends,” Caddy babbled, leading me into a room with toys and play structures. “Mommy says it’s because I’m gonna be Alpha one day. Maybe you can be Luna!”

  I shook my head, and he frowned.

  “Why not?”

  “I’m human,” I said softly, staring at the ground.

  The boy walked towards me and placed his hands on either side of my head, rougher than he intended, and smiled at me.

  “Well, then, I’ll protect you. We can be best friends.”

  The Enforcer

  “Margo!” Caddy’s voice called for me from the other room. I sat up from my position on the floor, where I was watching the wings of the fan on the ceiling spin around in boredom. “Come here. I need your help!” he called again.

  I walked to the adjoining room to find him with his paintbrushes in his hand. “What are you painting?” I wondered; the canvas was blank.

  He shrugged his shoulders and turned around towards me. “I don’t know yet. My uncle asked me to paint something as a gift to the new Enforcer when he visits in two days, but I don’t have a clue what to paint.” His uncle, whom the rest of us now called Alpha, was a strict man but was nowhere as intimidating as the new Enforcer.

  The canvas was large, about seven feet wide by five feet tall; he would never be able to finish the work in two days. I told Caddy this, and he glowered at me.

  “If I start right now, I can finish it,” he groaned. “But I have no idea what to paint. It has to be good; this is a peace offering. We all know very well that Dorian isn’t always the best with other leaders.”

  “What do you need help with? You know I can’t even draw a flower, I’m not sure what you want me to do,” I said carefully, not wanting to anger him in his anxious state.

  “I know you aren’t a painter, but you are the more creative one out of the two of us. Tell me what to paint. I can do the painting, but my mind is going in ten different directions,” he pleaded. His hazel eyes looked sad and scared instead of his usual cheeky manner.

  “I can try,” I sighed. His smile grew tenfold. “You’ll have to give me a few minutes to think of something. I need to plan.”

  He nodded and left me alone.

  I sank to the ground, resuming the same position I had before, and closed my eyes. “Pick up the brush,” I ordered. I could hear his hands grasp the tool. “So, from the left corner, start with a deep purple.”

  His fingers began to paint, not fully understanding where I was guiding him, but trusting me enough not to question it. I didn’t look at the canvas, just stayed on the ground with my eyes closed for the next several hours. We took a small break to get food from the kitchen on the first level of the packhouse. He accompanied me so the others wouldn’t cause me trouble as they sometimes did.

  It was difficult being the only human in a pack full of werewolf shifters, but Caddy did his best to make things seem normal for me. After my parents were killed, I was kept to be Caddy’s companion since he had few friends. His parents did not want him playing with a lot of other children in fear it would corrupt him when he was older and it was time for him to take the Alpha position. His parents didn’t think a small, human girl would have much influence over him, and allowed me to stay.

  Caddy’s father was killed a few years after my parent’s murder in a rogue attack. His brother, Dorian, was handed the Alpha title when Caddy was fourteen and I was twelve, although Caddy would take over for him one day.

  Although I was raised alongside Caddy, I held onto my human qualities as best I could. I taught Caddy art and literature from the books in my parent’s apartment, and in return, he kept me safe from the other wolves who wanted nothing more than to rip me apart. He had a steady hand, which made painting easy for him. I was not blessed with an artistic hand, so I usually posed for him, set up his scenes, or described things for him to paint.

  The canvas took us seventeen hours to complete, and another six hours for it to dry. Caddy’s uncle seemed pleased with our work and sent it to be framed for his guest, who would arrive in less than ten hours. Caddy thanked me, hugged me closely, and then sent me to my room to rest before the festivities.

  My room was plain, like many others in the packhouse. It had slate stone walls, a medium-sized window on the far wall, a small bed covered in afghans I found in a storage room, and a desk-which I had built from a slab of wood and metal poles. It wasn’t much, my comfort was never a priority for the pack, but I was thankful they even allowed me to stay.

  Caddy shook me from my sleep in the morning, looking excited. I grumbled at him.

  “Get up; you have to get yourself ready. Mom says we all need to be dressed nicely for the Enforcer when he gets here in an hour, so get yourself up and tame your mane,” he chuckled, ruffling my curly hair.

  I sat up, stretched, and wandered over to my desk, where I had a small mirror and some hand-me-down makeup Caddy’s mother gave me. My hair was kinky, curly, and thick. Caddy called me a lion when we were little because the volume of my hair used to dwarf my tiny body. I had managed to tame it as I got older and parted it to the right of my head, which framed my face nicely. I didn’t wear much makeup on my face usually, simply did my lashes and put on a bit of blush, but this was a pack event, which meant I needed to do a bit more. I finished quickly, despite the effort, and went to my small cedar chest to pull out a dress.

  Caddy’s mother had given me most of her old things from before she birthed Caddy, which was nice of her. Aside from her son, she was one of the only people that looked after me.

  I dressed in a lilac-colored frock with thick straps and a classic neckline. It flowed to my knees, and I slipped on a pair of white sandals as Caddy returned to my room. We walked down the three flights of stairs and joined the rest of the pack in front of the house. There was a large crowd, the entire pack was required to attend the gathering, and many of them were excited to see the newest Enforcer.

  Caddy grabbed my hand as we pushed our way through the crowd. He was obligated to stand next to his family, several feet in front of the pack, to greet the guests. I stood close to the front, tucked in between a few of the taller wolves.

  A series of cars approached, large SUV’s that came in a stream of black. The atmosphere shifted, and everyone became quiet. The vehicles stopped short of fifteen feet away, and there was a moment before the doors opened simultaneously.

  Each man was dressed similarly in a black suit, white shirt, and black tie. They were muscular, tall, and showed no emotion on their faces. Finally, they gathered around one car in the middle, and opened the door.

  A man stepped out, buttoned his suit, and scanned the scene. He was dressed in a navy suit with a white shirt and walnut colored shoes. He stood taller than the rest of the men; his presence seemed to fill the entire area. I kept my head down after looking at the men. It was disrespectful for a human to make eye contact with wolves of power.

  “Dorian,” the Enforcer loudly greeted as he walked closer to clasp arms with the Alpha. It was a common greeting, and as the sound of arms meeting rang through the air, the pack relaxed visibly.

  “Theo, I see you’re settling in the role well,” Dorian commended.

  “Yes, well, someone has to keep order,” he responded vaguely and halfway grinned.

  “Caddy,” Dorian called. “Fetch the offering.”

  Caddy stepped back, glanced at me, and gathered the painting from another member of the pack who stood behind him.

  “My nephew has a gift for art,” Dorian boasted. “We hope that you will accept our offering. We wish you the best in your future.” Caddy stood behind his work, looking wearily at the Enforcer, who showed little
emotion on his face.

  “You certainly do have a talent for this.” The Enforcer nodded. “I thank you, truly.”

  Caddy smiled and turned his head to look at me once again.

  “Why do you keep turning your head to look back?” the Enforcer asked. A cold chill settled over my spine despite the mild air outside. My hands shook; I prayed he wouldn’t notice me. I knew he was aware there was a human; wolves could sense those things immediately.

  Caddy cleared his throat and lowered his head. “I meant nothing by it,” he offered. The Enforcer wasn’t satisfied with his answer and scanned the crowd accusingly.

  “Theo,” Dorian tried to reign in his guest, wanting to be in control of the situation like most Alpha’s do.

  “Quiet,” the Enforcer commanded. We were all shocked that he spoke that way to someone with Dorian’s status, but the Enforcer position was high above any Alpha, and he had the right to speak as he wished.

  I wrung my hands together, using my hair to shield my face from his view.

  “Who are you looking at, boy?” the Enforcer turned back to Caddy.

  “Sir,” Caddy said softly. He didn’t like the tone in his voice, I could tell by the way his neck strained despite his softer tone.

  “Who?” the Enforcer growled.

  “No one,” Caddy denied, shaking his head adamantly. The Enforcer growled again and stepped closer to Caddy.

  “Margo,” Dorian shot out. I stopped breathing.

  No, you could have said any other wolf’s name.

  “Margo?” the Enforcer looked between Dorian and Caddy, whose face was red and angry. Dorian gave one nod of his head, and I closed my eyes and squeezed hard. “Margo, join us, won’t you,” the Enforcer called loudly. I looked up slowly and glanced at the two wolves standing next to me, who gave me the same stern look they always did.