Ryland moved in closer, his warmth pressing against her as he pulled her waist closer towards him. He was going along for the ride, and soon their kiss was fiery. Hands entangled in each other's hair, lips exchanging deep, passionate kisses. Krista felt a shock traveling through her, spreading towards her loins. This wasn't a vision, it was all so real.
Ryland’s nose brushed against hers. His eyes opened softly to look at her before kissing her again. Soon, his hands traveled somewhere else, his fingers brushing against her skin as he inched them under the fabric of her sweater. He pressed Krista onto her back, and she looked up at the towering skyline as he laid next to her, leaning on one arm and searching her with the other. His fingertips tickled her sides, gently gliding up her stomach as they kissed.
Krista could feel the bulge as soon as Ryland slid up against her. It grazed along her leg, pressing into her jeans, wanting so badly to explore her as well. Her mind was flooded with all kinds of thoughts. She was nervous, excited, and a bit terrified. But she held on, her hand wandering towards Ryland’s crotch. He gave a slight moan at her touch, which fueled her to keep going. She clutched him tightly, noticing how large he was.
He was breathing heavily now, almost hungrily. His hand had just barely reached her breast, and he cupped it under his palm, kneading it, wanting to tear the delicate fabric between them. Krista sighed onto his lips as her hand trailed past his waistband, her fingers running along the band of his briefs. She went for it, sliding her hand over his elongated cock, and Ryland exhaled in response. She liked this other side of him too, a man that wanted to be putty in her hands. She could feel him pulsing in her grip and rubbed her thumb along his tip until she could feel the beads of warmth seeping from it.
Ryland let go of her breast, tightly clutching her waist. He bent down for another kiss, his lips pressing hard against her.
"Ow-" Krista gasped, feeling a sharp sting on her lip. Ryland quickly pulled away.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry…I just…I don't know what came over me." Krista touched her bottom lip, examining her finger to see a droplet of blood on her fingertip. "It's fine," she said, but the shock of Ryland's bite exhilarated her. She wanted to continue, but Ryland left her, standing up to brush himself off.
“I got carried away,” he said.
“It’s okay, really. I did too.”
Ryland cleared his throat and steadied his breath. “I think we should, uh, be more careful,” he said in a more constricted tone. “I mean, I don’t want either of us to get hurt.”
“Sure,” Krista said, quiet and defeated, though she tried her best to hide it. “It’s probably for the best.”
“I’m glad you understand,” Ryland reached down his hand, and Krista absentmindedly took it.
“So, should we call it a night?” She asked, a slight tug pulling at her chest. Ryland nodded curtly. “We found this Stalker patch. I think we should look into it tomorrow. You…can accompany me again if you want.”
“Of course,” Krista said, and watched as Ryland wandered up the hill, his hands thrust in his pockets. She could still feel the imprint of him, the touch of his hand on hers. As she followed behind him, she wondered if that was the first and last time he would ever touch her.
10. WRONG TURF
Ryland examined the patch in his hand. It reeked of Declan and his pack, with a slight touch of musk that reminded him of the wolves they had encountered in the cemetery. He sat on the cluster of pillows in front of his antique coffee table, resting his head on it as he mulled over the events of the night before. Without the oracle bones, he wasn't sure if he would be able to get a clear reading from Krista. He wondered about the bricked-up wall that covered the entrance to his grandfather's tomb. If someone had already taken the bones, why would they go to the trouble of bricking up the wall to keep others out?
Something had also deeply disturbed Ryland. The only person with access to his books was Tristan, and he could have known about the Oracle bones as well. The more Ryland thought about it, the more he began to question his beta. But he couldn't think of a reason why Tristan would betray him.
He found his thoughts drifting to other parts of the night. A flash in his memory came over him. His hands running along the smoothest skin he had ever felt. He could still hear the soft moan escaping her lips as he kissed her. Maybe it was because he had opened the door for her. He hadn't told a single soul about the curse, so what had made him so comfortable that he’d told her? She had barely spent any time around him, yet anytime she was near his instincts were dying to be unleashed. Maybe because he wasn't used to being spoken to the way Krista spoke to him. He wondered what would have happened if he hadn't stopped himself.
His thoughts ceased in their tracks as if they were on screeching brakes. He couldn't allow himself to go there, to indulge in thoughts of Krista when his life and the safety of his pack were on the line. If he pursued her any longer, it would just make trouble for him and everyone around them. Hadn’t Christoph always warned him to stay away from girls?
Still, he lifted his head slightly, stretching out his fingers to look at his palm. His eyes traced along the empty space where his heart-line belonged. A knock on his door brought him back to reality, and Krista stepped inside with a steaming mug. He was wondering when he'd next be seeing her. They hadn't spoken at all about what had happened between them and probably wouldn't dare to.
Krista made herself comfortable beside him as if she had shared the space with him for years. She pushed the mug towards him. It had a calming floral scent. "Chamomile," she told him. Ryland looked into the cup. "I don't drink tea," he said, turning his attention to a bottle containing a makeshift potion. It was awful, but it helped with some of the pain the curse was dishing out on him. Before he could drink the potion, though, Krista's hand snatched the vial.
"Well, now's a perfect time to start," she told him, pushing the cup even closer. "Come on, it'll make you feel relaxed."
Ryland eyed her hand clasped around his potion. He sighed and took a sip of the warm beverage. His senses detected just a hint of honey had been added to sweeten it up. "So, without the bones what are we supposed to do?" She asked. "Are you going to tell the other packs about the curse?"
Ryland handed her the patch they had found near the tunnel. "Not yet," he said as she studied it. "We have to make a stop at one of Declan's old territories. For all we know, one of his shifters may have stolen the oracle bones."
“Why don’t you ask the other shifter factions?”
“It’ll get back around to Declan. We’re all connected and I’m trying to keep this whole thing as contained as I can.”
He looked over at her, watching her mind working. Yesterday had actually been somewhat enjoyable for him, having Krista come along, and he was willing to let her be his companion again.
It was an old fish market near Central City's bay area. Declan and the Stalkers often used to hold meetings in this place. That is until the peace treaty had been made and territorial lines were drawn to keep the factions in their place. It wasn't quite clear why Declan was a rival to Ryland. Perhaps it was because he didn't have to work hard to form a strong shifter pack. Either that or it was just the fact that he was an absolute asshole. Ryland figured it was the second option. Declan was smug, and always had something up his sleeve. It wouldn't be a surprise if he was really behind the shifters disappearing.
Ryland reared his head and covered his nose with the sleeve of his denim jacket. Though it was long abandoned, the old market still had a leftover fishy smell that clung to the walls. Krista made a disgusted sound as she ducked under the broken beams and followed him.
“Are you sure we’ll even find someone in this place?” She asked.
"Surprisingly, the scent led me to this place, ," he replied. "But I'm not picking up Stalker scent anymore. In fact…it's more like…something familiar."
He wandered into an empty corridor, where a row of unused freezer rooms was lined up. The further he
explored, the stronger the scent became. Then he realized he was smelling the same thing as he had smelled in the warehouse, just before he was attacked with his wretched curse: Blood.
"Krista?" he asked, worried that it was her blood being spilled without him even knowing. He would have sighed with relief if he hadn't seen her eyes rolling into the back of her head. He rushed over to her, catching her as he knees gave out. As soon as he did, she came to and clutched at her head. He caught a whiff of her vetiver-smelling hair. It reminded him of ancient magic and mystery.
"Fish smell really got to you, huh?" Ryland joked. Krista flashed a smile but was obviously distraught as she caught her breath. "A vision," she said. "It just…snuck up on me."
“What of?” Ryland felt his heart quicken. “Did you see where the bones are?” Krista shook her head. “No,” she said. “I saw a wolf. It happened so fast, but I saw a yellow arrow, a concrete room and a patch of brown fur.” She seemed deeply disturbed, to Ryland’s horror.
“Come on, it might be here.” He helped her to her feet, gently guiding her by the elbow towards the hallway. The smell of blood was growing stronger as they kept moving. “That’s the arrow!” Krista suddenly exclaimed as she pointed ahead of them. A professionally-painted yellow arrow pointed down another dark hallway, barely lit by the sun that bled into the cracks in the concrete.
They followed it, Ryland worrying about what they would find on the other side. He hoped it wouldn't be Declan. He would never admit it, but he felt that Declan's strength nearly matched his own, even if he did kick his ass in the warehouse the other day.
“This concrete’s looking awfully familiar,” Krista whispered in the dark. Ryland could pick up a hint of trembling in her voice. He knew he wanted to go first, just to keep her from seeing anything too gruesome. They passed by more freezers, but as soon as they reached one at the end of the hall, Ryland picked up two more scents. He held his arm out to stop Krista, his eyes widening.
Shifters. Two. But neither of them was Declan, or of Stalker blood. He didn’t want it to be true, not after hearing about what happened with the other packs. But as he inched closer to a cracked-open freezer room, he had his horror confirmed. As he pulled open the door, he felt a searing pain in his arm, and a fierce wriggling under his skin that he tried to stop but to no avail. The curse was attracted to this place and in seconds he’d find out why.
There, in the center of a large empty freezer, were dozens of candles lit in a circle. A dark figure hunched over something large on the ground, whispering strange words that Ryland picked up from time to time. He couldn’t bear to let the same scene play out again. He kicked open the door with ferocity and shifted into his wolf form, bounding towards the figure.
The figure turned and cried out in shock, quickly shifting just as Ryland sank his teeth into his shoulder. Ryland shook him, a growl rattling in his throat as he threw the stranger against the wall. He reeked of that mysterious pack musty—almost like sewer water and rats.
He felt a bite in his neck, digging into his veins. Suddenly, Ryland felt overcome by a tremendous rage, unlike anything he had ever felt. It was a fire burning in his chest. He needed to shed blood, to taste his enemy and rip him to shreds. Ryland backed off from his enemy, taking a nip at his heel while dodging the gaping jaws headed right for his side.
They were a flurry of fur and gnashing teeth until the enemy shoved Ryland into the flames of the nearby candles. Ryland yelped and struggled to roll, cleansing his back of the flames. As he did, it gave the other shifter a chance to escape. He could only watch as the wolf shifted back into a hooded figure, frozen as he stared at Krista. Krista was trying to close the door to keep him from escaping. It was clear that the shifter had taken an interest in her.
“Don’t touch me!” Krista’s cries were amplified in Ryland’s ears. The figure bent down and it one swift motion, it had carried Krista off into the hallway. Ryland growled as he tumbled to his feet, chasing after the man in the hood. His paws skittered along the concrete, while fish and blood mixed in his nose.
He was gaining on him, but the man turned a corner sharply and Ryland found himself skidding into a wall. Krista's cries echoed through the hall as she tried to break herself free from the man's shoulder. As Ryland caught up to them, he saw that she had somehow been successful. She fell to the ground, while the man held his eye in agony, blood spilling through his fingers.
Ryland’s feet left the ground and he soared towards the man, his jaws open. He landed on his chest, growling in his face. The man tried to shift, but could only muster a slight change in his face.
“Who are you?” Krista shouted at the stranger. “Who are you working for?”
The man squirmed under Ryland's weight. He seemed calm—an older and more experienced shifter—but Ryland could see the real terror in his dark eyes.
"I thought you would know the answers to that, Oracle," he said.
"You know I'm the Oracle?" Krista prodded with disbelief.
“Of course. I was promised a higher rank if I brought you to the pack,” the man said, his voice cracking under the pressure. “Along with the bones and the wolf soul.”
“You have the bones,” Krista stated. “What is your pack planning?”
“I am bound to my pack by blood. I will never betray them, even if it means sudden death.”
Ryland couldn’t bear to hear him talk anymore. The violent thoughts and urges were overwhelming him and the lack of information from the shifter only infuriated him more. He lashed out with his jaws, and as he did, he felt as though five long seconds were slipping away, right before his eyes, with no memory of how he lost them. He couldn’t even hear Krista’s terrified screams.
When he came to, there wasn’t a man anymore, only a ragged pile of flesh and blood attached to the bones of a man. Ryland shifted back, quickly removing himself from his kill. For some reason, the pain had subsided inside of him, as if a thirst had been quenched. He could still taste the rusted iron on his tongue as he wiped his face.
Krista was staring at him, trembling. As he tried to move closer, she scooted herself away, her eyes locked on his.
“Are you okay?” He asked quietly.
"Do you always do that?" Krista's voice was barely a whisper. His heart sank. He didn't mean to, and he didn't want to. But the curse felt otherwise. He could only shake his head and held out his hand, hoping desperately that she would take it. She didn't.
"He has the bones," Krista said her eyes avoiding his. "He was going to take me to his pack."
Ryland bent down next to the fresh corpse, so she wouldn't have to. He searched every pocket until, finally, he found a dark satin pouch. He shook it, hearing the crackle inside as if stones were rubbing together. Opening it, he discovered it was the oracle bones, small and pearly, and etched with ancient runes.
"Is that them?" Krista asked from afar. Ryland nodded. He understood why she didn't want to be around him, but it still stung him.
“You said you saw a wolf,” Ryland said. “Was it him?”
“No,” Krista said.
That's what Ryland thought. He didn't want to believe the third element of Krista's vision, but it didn't stop him from trailing back to the freezer room. There had been two shifters after all. Some candles remained, casting a faint glow over the lifeless carcass of a wolf in the center of the room. He bent down in front of it, placing his hand on the cold body in reverence.
He had found her, just as the other alphas had found their missing pack members. Ryland felt a twist in his chest. "Who is it?" Krista asked.
"Henna. A great strategist," Ryland said. "She was an excellent contribution to my pack. If only her boundless knowledge of strategy could have helped her sooner."
He found an old tarp and covered the body. "Should we talk to Declan?" Krista suggested from the doorway. "This wasn't Declan," Ryland growled. "This was something much worse."
11. ALPHA
Krista stayed in her room until the pack meeting was ab
out to take place. She felt it would be best to clear her mind of what she had witnessed. It occurred to her that there was something far more sinister going on inside of Ryland. She thought that their exchange on the hillside might have given her some more insight, revealing his more sensitive side. But, watching him attack his enemy was so shocking to her, that it made her question how much of it was Ryland and how much of it was the curse raging inside of him.
At that same moment, she had also felt something horrifyingly strange when Ryland tore that man apart. It was as if she had seen it through his eyes, and felt her teeth grazing against the flesh as if somehow she was Ryland doing the killing.
She mindlessly shuffled her tarot cards in her hands, wondering if she should do another reading for herself.
Ryland had taken the pouch of oracle bones with him, perhaps to study them. Krista didn't dare ask for them, even if they were supposed to be for her. She wondered if she could get Tristan to retrieve them for her but, before she could stand, he was already opening her door. "The alphas are waiting," Tristan tilted his nose down to look at her over his glasses.
Krista stared down at the deck in her hands, deciding that she’d pull one after all. Just one. As she did, she stared into the eyes of a red devil—The Devil—crouched above two humans, bound in chains. Her mother warned her many times about this card, a symbol of addiction and restriction. She placed it back in the deck, instantly regretting her decision as she followed Tristan to the meeting hall.
The alphas from all the Central City factions were gathered: Sam, Rizz, Ben. From what Ryland had told her about them, she was able to match their names to their faces as each of them sat in a circle. She noticed an empty chair, discovering that Declan was nowhere to be seen. There was of a seat reserved for her… next to Ryland. She cautiously sat, wanting to look at him, but also feeling afraid to. Was he the supposed to be the devil on her tarot card?
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