Destiny

by Rachelle Mills et al.

  “Do you want me to try naming a boundary first?” he asked. At her nod, he said, “As amazing as you are, I am still, at heart, a bit of a hermit. I think spending 24/7 together would put a strain on us, considering how new this is.”

  She gasped in delight. “That’s a good one. I’m not ready to show you all my gross habits yet.”

  His head snapped back in feigned shock. “There’s more?”

  Emma swatted at him with both hands. “You are an asshole and I hate you.”

  He leaned away from her, laughing. “Those are unhealthy boundaries, Emma. So very much unhealthy.”

  She let her hands fall. “In all seriousness, I don’t think we should force compartmentalization of work versus romance, but if either of them is bleeding too heavily into the other, we need a safe word or something.” He opened his mouth to suggest an idea, but she said, “If you say ‘banana,’ there will be words.”

  “Fine,” he said crisply then thought a moment. “How about Bat Night? It’s short and easy to remember.”

  Emma snapped her fingers at him in approval. “Done.” Some of her good humor faded, and she sucked in a deep breath. “Are you expecting me to become a vampire?”

  Henry blinked, chest tightening. “Ah, well. I know it could become a question later, but it’s a bit soon for that, don’t you think?”

  Her eyes softened in relief. “Something weird weaseled into my brain that night when Sofia assumed you were going to turn me. I’m not saying I never want to talk about it, but…yeah. Just because you’re immortal doesn’t make this relationship any less new.”

  “See? We’re talented at boundaries.” He leaned forward on the cold hard floor to kiss her cheek. “I have one last thought. I don’t know if it counts as a boundary or a goal, but moving forward, I will not hold my age over you. I’ll express opinions based on my experiences during my preternaturally long life, but I won’t just dismiss you and say I know better.”

  “Yes, that’s good—and I’ll work on my insecurities about being a mortal in a supernat world. I’ll fight only about the issue at hand, and if it feels like thing are going to get too intense, we should take breaks.”

  He smiled and rose to his feet before helping her up. “If we are half as good at building shadow governments as we are at boundary discussions, we’re going to do some amazing things in this town.”

  Emma lifted his hand to her lips and pressed a sweet kiss against it. “Agreed.”

  A load eased off his chest. Heartened by their conversation, he said, “Now, I have something very special to show you, if you’re up for it.”

  She tilted her head in question, so he led her to the kitchen. He rummaged through a few cabinets before he found what he was looking for. With showmanship akin to Rick’s, he pulled out a frosted glass vase and gave it to her.

  Emma stared blankly at him, down at the vase, and back up at him. “Thank you…?”

  “Don’t you see it?”

  She blinked. “Henry, it’s a vase.”

  “I was storing it so Ingrid wouldn’t not-so-accidentally knock it over. You don’t recognize it?”

  Emma frowned.

  “It’s the skull bouquet I helped you steal from Dead Man’s Party,” he prompted.

  She snorted before breaking into a laugh. “It’s supposed to be invisible, though.”

  “You didn’t know?” he said in a stage whisper. “The blooms are still invisible, but the vase becomes visible in the natural world after you take on a roomful of panicking supernats.”

  Her face contorted. “Dear God, what do I have to do to make the skulls visible?”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “I guess we’ll have to find out.”

  Laughter subsiding, Emma set the vase on the counter and stepped into his arms. Heat curling between them, he ran his fingers through her hair and crushed his lips against hers.

  Henry found himself wondering—not for the first time—why he’d waited so long to do it.

  About The Author

  Nadia Diament writes paranormal and contemporary romance with equal servings of heat and humor. No stranger to a U-Haul, she’s lived in Arizona, South Dakota, and Washington, DC. She currently lives with her husband in Chicago, where she tinkers with fountain pens and loiters in coffee shops. Bloodsucking Lawyer is her debut novel.

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  Clayton

  The Wildflower Series 1

  By Rachelle Mills

  Chapter One

  A Choice

  I wrap my hands around the wooden pole, and they’re latched with a delicate silver chain that I have no hope of breaking.

  The Alpha has delivered justice for my attack of another pack member.

  The whole pack has gathered to watch, my mother’s eyes weeping tears for me, my father’s head hung in shame. I try looking at my mate, but he just holds my competition in his arms, rubbing her back in comfort, her face still bruised and swollen from the beating I gave her. She’s lucky someone pulled me off or else I think I could have ended her life with my leap into insanity.

  The Alpha, my mate’s father, is looking around to all the pack members while the whip hangs lightly in his hand, as if it doesn’t hold a heavy weight. The fabric of my shirt is cut down the back, exposing skin that is about to be scarred with the cruel touch of the lash.

  “I called you all here today to witness Rya’s punishment. She has attacked another member of this pack without provocation.” He’s speaking the truth for the wind to bring to the ears of all those listening. I did attack her, an escalation of words turning into violence between two females wanting the same male.

  Except I am his mate, and she is his everything.

  I went to him as soon as I shifted, knowing who he was to me. She was there; she has always been there since they could walk. He must have known I was his even before I shifted, yet he continued on with her. I begged him, pleaded with him to just give me a chance, making a scene for all to witness. He told me to go, leave. That she might not be his true mate, but she is the one he wants, regardless of what the moon thinks.

  She stood there, not saying anything, as I made a fool out of myself, her perfect face staying stoic the entire time as he dealt with me, a crazy she-wolf fighting for what she thought was hers.

  In a moment of absolute rage, I took that step into insanity, with the intent to kill her, my wolf wanting to eliminate the competition. And I, I decided to embrace the darkness my nature provided. He stopped me. He protected his chosen female from his mate’s wrath.

  The first stroke of the whip tastes my back, greedily devouring my pristine flesh. I don’t look away from my mate, his hand crushing hers. I notice how white her fingertips look as they are deprived of blood. I try to be brave, gritting my jaw against the pain. The next stroke takes me off-guard, and I cry out in agony. A young juvenile female is no match against the justice the whip provides. Even full-grown males beg and plead for mercy given enough hits from the lash.

  Embedding its lethal kiss into my skin, I will always wear my shame for others to see. Another sickening crack screams through the air, cutting another furrowed groove deep into the skin. Blood splatters on the ground, forming a carpet of red.

  I can no longer keep his eyes; my head bows, salt tears trail off cheeks, falling to the ground, mixing with my blood. It’s as if I’m the other jealous female, and she’s his true mate. That’s how I am being treated like: the psycho crazy female.

  Black shoes come into my line of sight. “Rya, you know why I’m doing thi
s?”

  Nodding my head yes to the Alpha, I respond quietly, “I understand.”

  “What do you understand, Rya?”

  I’m crying now with what I have to say. “I tried to kill another pack member.”

  “That’s right. You can’t go around trying to kill another female because your mate does not want you.” My head hangs even lower, my body shaking from my sobs.

  “You have to respect choice, Rya; he doesn’t choose you. He chooses her. You need to respect this and accept this.” His voice is very stern, authority ringing out for everyone to hear.

  “Do you understand this, Rya, that he doesn’t want you?”

  My shoulders are shaking with the truth I am hearing. “Yes, I understand.”

  “You’re to leave them alone, you cannot speak to them unless spoken to, and you cannot follow him around anymore—no contact. Do you understand?”

  “I do.”

  “You have three more lashes. From now on, you are to eat last. You will be at the back of the pack until I tell you otherwise. Do you understand?” The Alpha sounds pained to say this, but it is the usual punishment that is doled out for misbehaving she-wolves who can’t get over their lovers. Except usually, these she-wolves are replaced by mates, not mates who are rejected.

  “I understand.” I grip my hands together, and he makes the whip sing through the air, raining down hard and fast, robbing me of breath. The second strike has sounded, and I scream between gritted teeth. The final strike of the silver lash is meant to be remembered. It drops me to my knees in front of my pack, my parents, and him—my mate. The pain is so great, yet it doesn’t compare to the way my heart has just been torn away. The healer is there instantly, taking the binding from my wrists. Looking up, I see Clayton kissing Kennedy’s forehead, turning their backs on me, walking away hand in hand.

  I can’t breathe.

  My legs refuse to lift my weight. Instead, I stay kneeling with my shoulder against the blood-stained pole for support.

  “Let’s get you up.” The kindness the healer shows me is more than I deserve.

  “Just leave me here,” I whisper. My mother comes over to me, crying. That also hurts my soul, the shame she has to carry, my family has to carry, from my dance with insanity. Just a second without thinking has led me to this moment. Never again will I not think before I act. A cooling cloth is pressed onto my back. Smelling of medicine, it numbs the pain slowly.

  “I’m sorry, Mother.” Still, my voice is shaky with the need to cry. My father’s back is to me; he leaves without another word.

  “Let’s get you home.” Wrapping an arm around my body, the healer helps me to a standing position. The effort makes sweat roll off my forehead. The healer takes my other side, and I’m somewhat dragged, carried to my home. I lay face down on the bed, and the ointment is spread over the ruined flesh, more bandages applied. My mother is given directions from the healer on how to treat me. A cup is pressed against my lips, and the tart liquid makes my nose scrunch up.

  “It’s so you can sleep.” I finish the concoction before being left alone in my room to think about my actions.

  It takes three days before I don’t need help getting out of bed to go to the bathroom. Three more days for me to be able to walk on my own. Another two more days to go back to school.

  Walking into the cafeteria, I have to endure the sight of them together. I have two more years left; they graduate in the spring. At least I don’t have long till I no longer have to see them every day.

  My friends have turned their backs on me, pretending I’m not standing there, hoping they make room for me to sit with them.

  “I’m sorry, Rya, but all the spots are taken. No room for you anymore.” I don’t say anything back to Cora. It’s no use. Turning away, I take my lunch outside and sit underneath one of the maple trees. The leaves are just starting to unfurl, providing a small amount of shade from the sun. Being alone, shunned now from the group I grew up with, has me silently nibbling my sandwich as it catches my tears.

  I’m picked last for group projects; gym class has me the odd-man-out. The teachers don’t say anything; I’m not sure they even notice the shift in status. The humans around us just think I’m fighting with my group of friends.

  No one is physically violent with me. They just treat me as if I don’t exist. Like I have no feelings. The worst are the pack gatherings. Most of the time I just refuse to go, holing up inside my room, a grey cloud following me wherever I go.

  I have to watch as he makes a plate for himself and her. Always he’s providing her with food for the pack to see. As the last to eat, only the unwanted items are left for me. Usually, I go without. Sitting at the back by myself, unable to even eat with my own family, I’m in my own private purgatory that I endure quietly without complaint. Sometimes, on very rare occasions, I can feel his eyes on me. But, just as fast as I feel them, they’re gone. I try not to look at him anymore for fear he will be able to feel my gaze as well.

  Two years I endure this. It’s a lonely, miserable life. It’s funny how you grow and mature and the body people see looks healthy and young, except for me it’s just a shell covering my emptiness.

  I’ve applied for a transfer out of my pack, and the Alpha has granted my wishes, with the understanding that I am to come back when needed. My marks have been above average, and I’ve been accepted to apprentice as a midwife underneath the guidance of a much-esteemed female. The healer helped me with my application, I was interviewed, and my grades were looked at. My commitment level was assessed; they just don’t want anyone who will drop their training once they meet their mate. She was made aware of my situation, accepting me instantly. A sad smile tugged at her eyes as she welcomed me into her home with a hug.

  For the first time in two years, I have a smile that reaches my eyes with what my future might be.

  Chapter Two

  Coming Home

  Insomnia is a great company to grief. Like two old friends unable to part, they mingle with each other, never letting the other go completely.

  “Couldn’t sleep.” My mentor is sitting by the fireplace that holds no fire, with a cup of tea in her hand, looking at me with caring eyes.

  “No, I couldn’t sleep. Big day today.” I can’t even disguise my sadness.

  “Are you all packed up? Do you have everything?” Her voice cracks as well. Mentor and student at first, but once my training was completed, we became good friends.

  “Rya, it’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.” I wish I could believe that.

  “It’s going to be okay.” I say it out loud over and over again, trying to fool myself.

  “I just need to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I appreciate all your teaching, but especially your kindness when I needed it the most.” Standing up, she walks toward me, opening up her arms so I am pressed against her ample chest, cheeks rubbing together.

  “You’re going to be great, my best student I have ever had the privilege to teach. You’re a beautiful female inside and out. Remember that.” She wipes away my tears as I try to control my breathing like she taught me.

  “I need to go. It’s a long drive. Thank you again.” Walking out of the house we shared for the last four years is so hard. This has been my fantasy land, protecting me from a life I am not forced to go back to.

  In the rearview mirror, I see her waving in the open doorway. I give a little wave as I pull out. I start to drive toward what gives me my nightmares at night.

  Pulling up to the pack house, I need to sit in the car to gather my wits. I need to check in, get the keys to my new home. The Luna felt it’s better if I just take over the old midwife’s house, seeing as it’s empty now.

  The day the phone rang was like any other day for me, a birth in the early morning hours that went well for both mother and pup. I was just coming out of the shower when I picked up the phone. It was the Alpha. I almost dropped the phone.

  You’re needed back here. That’s a
ll he said to me before the Luna took over the conversation, telling me the midwife has passed back to the moon. How I need to come home. I knew this was inevitable. I just thought I would have more time. I haven’t seen my father in four years. My mother and sisters have visited once, but there was an awkwardness to us that never existed before. My mother wanted to visit me more, but I just pretended that I was too busy, that I had lots of work, that it was impossible for me to get away.

  As soon as I open the door, his scent hits me hard, so hard that I need to go back inside my car and close the door. I hold the steering wheel, gripping it so tightly my knuckles are white. I wasn’t prepared for it. I haven’t even seen him yet, and I’m reduced to immobility. I stay like this for a few minutes, or ten, I’m not sure. I try to give myself a talking to, scolding my own reactions to something that is so natural like breathing.

  How do you tell yourself not to breathe?

  Unclenching one hand, then the other, I wipe sweaty palms on my shorts. The car is starting to heat up with the sun’s hot rays beating down on the metal. Big breath in, I open the door, making my shaky legs take me toward the front door. I knock, waiting for it to open. The Luna greets me with a smile on her face. I smile a decaying smile back.

  “Look at you, Rya.” She lets her eyes roll over my body. “You have grown into a beautiful female.” She presses her cheek against mine in welcoming. I’m not the small juvenile I once was. I’m a full-grown female wolf.

  “Your eyes, Rya, stunning.” Glacier blue, my greatest asset as I was told once. Almost the color of a blue moon that only comes around every few years.

  “Thank you.” His scent has tentacles that wrap around my body, seducing me with something that I sometimes dream about. It’s extremely hard to concentrate on anything she tells me. Her mouth is moving, smiling. I just nod my head, pretending she holds my eyes.