by JK Cooper
Why do you hate me? Shelby thought. I am not what you think. I am not something out of the Book of Revelations or your people’s legends. What I am will not be determined by myths. How dare you tell me my path!
“Shelby,” Gennesaret whispered. “Shelby, dear, stop.”
Shelby blinked. Her eyes burned but so did her skin. Her jaw felt sore, not just from clenching it under Chenoa’s judging glare. And Chenoa . . . a single tear streamed down her cheek. Then blood from her nose.
“I . . . I’m sorry.”
“Look, child,” Dakota said, pointing at her hands.
Shelby raised them. On the backs of her hands, dark coarse hair waved in the gentle breeze. Her nails had darkened a couple shades and extended perhaps an inch. Her fingers pulsed beneath her nails. She turned her hands over and touched her palms. The skin was raised, thick and padded . . . almost like paws. With a tentative tongue, she tested her teeth. The molars felt flat and smooth, but her cuspids pricked her tongue. She tasted blood.
Grant put his arm around her, and his touch, even through her clothes, felt like fire on her skin. “It’s okay. Let it retreat. Let it go.”
Shelby sucked in a nervous breath. “Dad?”
“It’s okay, baby girl.”
She felt the hairs on her hands retreat back into her skin, the pulsing beneath her nails fade. Kale was there suddenly. And Elias. Others followed them. From her dad’s hold, she jumped into Kale’s arms. She felt his strong arms around her, comforting in a way that no one else’s arms could ever be. She buried her head in his hard chest, trying to disappear.
“What happened?” Kale asked.
“Just hold me,” she whispered.
“We felt something,” Elias said. “We all did.”
“She was projecting again,” Gennesaret said. “She didn’t know what she was doing. And she partial-shifted.”
“That’s not possible. Not for one so young.”
Even with her head buried in Kale’s chest, Shelby could hear Elias’s disbelief and imagined his face looking likewise.
“She is the Summer Omega,” Dakota said. “Menily has touched her.”
“She attacked Chenoa,” Gennesaret said. “She didn’t mean to.”
“I’m sorry,” Shelby mumbled. “I’m a monster.” A soft hand touched her arm. Chenoa’s.
“I am fine, young one.”
Shelby managed to extricate her tear-ridden face from Kale’s chest.
“And you,” Chenoa continued, “are stronger than I perceived. Perhaps you can control what is within you.”
“But you doubt it,” Shelby said.
Chenoa’s face remained stoic. “I do.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
A faint line of red smeared Chenoa’s upper lip where she had wiped away the trickle of blood.
Chenoa nodded and walked back to the manor.
“She is a new desert rock,” Dakota said, as if that explained everything, and then he left also.
“Shel, let’s go,” Grant said. “This was a mistake. I’m sorry for allowing it to progress this fast.”
“No,” she said. “I just need to be with Kale for a minute. Please.”
Her dad recoiled inside slightly, feeling as if he had been stung. She felt it. Even his emotions she could sense, but not project hers upon him? She couldn’t sense other humans’ emotions, though. Or she didn’t think she could. Perhaps the connection of father and daughter allowed some of her Omega abilities to work between them. The hurt left just as quickly as Grant had felt it. She sensed him sweep it aside.
“Alright,” he said, and walked back toward the house.
Shelby heard more footsteps on the grass as the others left. Soon, it was just her and Kale under the starry night.
“Maybe I’m not supposed to be with a pack,” Shelby whispered. “I should be alone.”
“That’s nonsense, Shelby,” Kale said. “And you would go Feral if you were alone.”
“Maybe that’s better. I could have killed her.”
“Yeah, but, most might’ve thanked you for that,” he said with an uneven smile. Even his fake smiles warmed her chest.
She punched his arm. “Were you flexing again?”
“What?”
“Never mind.”
She looked into his eyes, wanting to escape into whatever world they would bring her to. “Will you leave with me? Just us?”
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“If that’s what you wanted to do, then yes. But I don’t think it is.”
Shelby huffed. “It’s not. Not really.”
Kale leaned closer, just slightly. Shelby didn’t know what Heaven smelled like, but if it wasn’t Kale’s scent, she wasn’t interested. She felt lightning in her fingers and toes as he drew closer. “What do you want?” he asked.
No, don’t do that. Her breathing shortened. Her heart raced. She wanted to scream for him to pull back. What could she do to him if she weren’t careful?
“Kale,” she whispered. “I’m scared.”
“Yeah, but what do you want?”
“I . . .”
He drew even closer and his chest pressed against hers. Can he feel my heart thudding against my rib cage? What would she sense this time if they kissed? If they . . . oh, his lips looked so succulent! He ran a finger along her jawline, and she trembled beneath his touch.
“I . . . just . . .”
“Me, too,” he whispered.
She grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him the rest of the way to her lips, nearly lunging for him. That lightning in her fingers and toes erupted in a brilliant explosion in her mind. A thin layer of sweat broke out on the small of her back, and she felt it tingle. She tingled all over, actually. Running her fingers through his thick hair, she pulled him still closer and kissed him long and slow. She jumped into him, wrapping her legs around his waist, and she felt his strong hands catch her, running up and down her back. She lifted her chin, and he kissed her neck; she groaned softly. No, it was a growl, right next to Kale’s ear. He clutched her hard when she did that, and she nibbled his ear, then trailed kisses down his neck as he continued to kiss hers.
When their lips found each other again, Shelby dug her nails into Kale’s back so deep, she was afraid she might make him bleed. But she couldn’t get close enough to him as their kiss deepened, and she felt herself trembling with fear and delight and wonder and awe and—
Kale pulled back.
“You don’t have to do that to me,” he said softly, nuzzling her nose fondly with his.
“What?”
“You’re projecting.”
Her cheeks burned. “I am?”
He smiled. “Oh, yeah. Definitely. I already feel what you want me to feel, Shelby Brooks. You don’t have to convince me with your secret Omega magic tricks.”
“I didn’t know—”
“Shut up, Shelby,” he said, and kissed her again as he raised her chin, and Shelby thought the world had indeed disappeared as she melted into Kale’s embrace completely.
“I’ll never let anyone hurt you again,” he whispered. “I promise.”
Why had he said that? Lucas. She was projecting her anxiety rooted deep within about Lucas.
“He’s far from here,” Kale said.
“I forget about him when I’m with you.”
“Not completely.”
No, obviously not. Those scars were deep.
Kale ran his hand through her hair and cupped the back of her head. He looked intently into her eyes.
“I love you.”
He loved her? Crap, what did she say to that? It had only been a week! But the simple truth of her feelings could not be denied.
“I love you,” she whispered back. “I always have, but I don’t understand how. It’s like . . . rediscovering you.”
Kale’s smile was so wide it looked like it nearly touched his ears. The perimeter lights lit half his face, the moonlight the other half, though more di
mly. “Are you quoting Journey to me?”
“Wait, you know Journey?”
“‘Two strangers learn to fall in love again—I get the joy of rediscovering you . . .’”
“Oh. My. Gosh. First, Kale Copeland, don’t quit your day job. You’re no Steve Perry.”
“Ouch.”
“Second, you cannot know that song. It’s not by Maroon 7—”
“—5—”
“—Or Taylor Swift or Bibber—”
“—Beiber—”
“—Or Sam Smith—”
“Shel,” Kale said, putting a hand over her mouth. “‘Faithfully’ is like the ultimate 80’s sappy love song. Everyone knows it. Anson can rip it on the piano.”
“No. That’s ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’ by Bonnie Tyler. Don’t you know anything?”
“Have you seen the literal music video version of that song?”
“The what?” Shelby asked.
“Oh, Shelby Brooks, you have not lived.”
Kale took her by the hand, interlocking his fingers with hers, and pulled her back toward the house. “We have to YouTube it.”
“Hey! I’m not finished with you!” she complained.
“This is important,” he said, obviously mocking her for when she showed him the goat video of Taylor Swift. “You can kiss my lips off later.”
“And your neck? And earlobes?”
“You’re into the lobes, huh?”
“Just yours.” Shelby heard herself talking and realized how she sounded. “Sadie’s right, I’ve somehow caught romance-novelitis. I need to watch Hacksaw Ridge when I get home.” But that had a romance story in it as well. Crap.
“What are you mumbling?”
“You know I can make you kiss me, right?”
“Mm-hmm,” Kale mumbled.
She projected what she wanted. Exactly how she wanted him to kiss her. Kale stopped cold next to one of the two small servant-quarter houses on the property. He turned toward her. “So, you know that’s not just to me, right? Everyone else can feel it when you do that.”
She ripped her hand free of his and covered her face. “Crap. Holy feculence.”
“Sadie’s really worn off on you.”
“Shut up.”
And then he was there again. Close to her, his warmth so intoxicating. She blinked rapidly, trying to focus her vision, but his presence so undid her!
“I hate you,” she mumbled.
“I see I don’t need to project anything to make you want me.” Kale pulled her to the side of the small house and pushed her up against the brick wall. He pinned her hands above her head and her heart speeded up for the thousandth time tonight. She giggled as he tenderly kissed the underside of her wrists, then the inside of her elbow.
“Still hate me?” he asked.
“More than ever,” she said breathlessly and reached for his mouth with hers. He pulled back just out of reach, then moved in half the distance between them. She reached further, vying for his sweet kiss, those full lips, but again he pulled away.
“Okay, now you’re just being a jerk,” she said.
He moved in, more slowly this time. Shelby didn’t take the bait. She shook her head. “I don’t trust you.”
“Yes you do.”
She did, so completely that it scared her. He released her arms from his hold, and she found her hands running across his broad shoulders again, clutching and digging for him, unable to stop herself. Tenderly, cautiously, he let her lips find his, and she felt him tremble this time. She smiled, breaking their kiss and loving the feel of his scruff around his lips as she pulled back. “What’s wrong, Kale? I scare you?”
“You have no idea.”
She let herself become lost in his kiss once again.
“Hey,” Lucas said, sitting down next to her with his maple body acoustic guitar slung over his shoulder. “You’re Shelby, right?”
Shelby nodded, her lips parted slightly. He had the cutest crooked smile and golden curls of hair with dark roots. It was open mic at The Warehouse, a club that occasionally shut down its bar during the day to let high school kids come and perform. A constant rain had been doing its best to ruin the last days of her summer before 11th grade, but now it seemed romantic somehow. The soft patter of it on the street and the roof, the guy with a guitar next to her . . .
“Yeah, hi,” she finally said.
He looked down with a smile that was too cute and disarming.
“You playing?” Lucas asked, motioning toward the stage. A guy and girl were singing a duet, the guy with a guitar and the girl slapping a tambourine on her leg on the second and fourth beats of every measure.
“No,” Shelby said, “just here to hang out and listen, really.”
“That’s cool.”
A silence descended that made Shelby feel a little awkward.
Without any other preamble, Lucas said, “You want to hang out sometime?”
Shelby’s heart skipped a beat. Was she making this up in her head? She felt her neck flash hot for a second.
“Um, yeah, sure,” she said, trying to sound casual but failing.
“Cool, cool. What about tonight? The rain is finally supposed to let up, and we could walk around Lake Ella or something. You free?”
Was she free? Currently, yes, but she was definitely considering handing the key to her heart to him. How long had she been trying to get him to notice her? At least three months, and she thought there was no way when summer hit that he would ask her out. There was an advantage to school being in session, easily seeing those you wanted to be seen by every day. She had made every effort during the summer to put herself near him if she could, without being a stalker. Okay, maybe she had sort of crossed the “stalker” line a few times.
She looked down, and a piece of her wavy, sandy blonde hair fell in front of her face. Lucas reached forward and moved it behind her ear. His hand gently touched her jawline as he pulled back a little too slowly.
“Yeah, I’m free,” Shelby said.
“Sweet. Meet you there around 7:30-ish?”
“Okay. Where, exactly?”
“You know the antler tree?”
“Yes.”
The small crowd of about thirty or so started clapping when the guitar-tambourine duo ended their song.
“Okay, cool. Listen, I’m up next. Stay and listen, and then I’ll see you later tonight?”
He wanted her to stay and listen specifically to him? That was the only reason she was there but decided to play it cool.
“Promise not to mess up, and I’ll stay.”
“Ha! Won’t let you down!”
Holy crap, was she his groupie already? There were other girls who cheered a little too enthusiastically when he got on stage. Annoyance akin to jealousy brewed within her. How stupid girls could be, she thought, trying not to categorize herself there just yet.
Lucas sat on a stool and adjusted the mic. “Nights in White Satin” by the Moody Blues started ringing out, that rich E minor chord filling the club. Lucas’s voice wasn’t whole-toned like Justin Hayward’s, but the raspy, more nasally tone definitely worked. It came out as a surfer’s version of the classic song.
He was good. And she realized that she just might be in trouble, her crush turning into something a little deeper. Stupid weak girl stuff. She clapped at the end, promising herself she wasn’t going to go swooning all over him like a few of the other girls. Forcing herself to leave before he came to find her was hard, but she wasn’t going to play that easy to get.
The oak tree did look like a large buck, lying down with its head turned up and looking to the right, its antlers the sprawling branches. Sort of. Whatever. The rain had let up, but the smell of it still hung in the air, the smell of things freshly cleaned. Lake Ella’s shoreline was perhaps fifty feet away, its water smooth and seeming to swell at the edges from all the rain. Shelby looked at her phone. 7:35 p.m.
She heard Lucas’s voice laughing and talking to someone. Was he on the phon
e? Lucas was coming around some brush, but she couldn’t see him yet. As he came into view, she was leaning on the tree, but stood upright when she saw two friends with him. Dave and Ryan. She had English with Ryan but didn’t know him well.
Lucas gave her a raised chin nod and said, “Shelby. What’s up?”
“Hey.” She looked at Dave and Ryan with a bit of a weird glance. Dave wore a Jacksonville Jaguars hoodie.
“Oh, don’t mind them,” Lucas said. “They kinda hang out with me all the time. Moral support, you know?”
“You need moral support?” Shelby asked, trying to keep her smile unconcerned.
“Hey, you ran off after my performance. Was it that bad?”
“It was great, actually,” Shelby said. “I just had to run and do some stuff. You’ve got a great voice.”
“Thanks,” he said in way that told her he was used to hearing that. “Ya know I dedicated that song to you.”
“Really?” Shelby said. “Because I don’t recall hearing you do that.”
“It was in my head.”
“How special.”
Lucas chuckled. “Yeah, I know.”
“So . . .”
“Is it weird that Dave and Ryan are here?”
“Um, no, I guess. I just thought, ya know, it was just going to be us. I scare you or something?”
“Ha!” Lucas said. “Not at all. I figured we could just have our own version of a night in white satin, though.”
Shelby felt a warning in the air, something inside her starting to emerge. She kept her tone calm and playful, not wanting to be a freak or anything. “Okay . . . what do you mean?”
“You like me, right?” Lucas said.
“This is kinda weird, Lucas.”
“I like you, Shelby. I hope you don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
Dave took out a white sheet from under his Jaguar hoodie.
“Um, what’s that for?” Shelby asked, not caring if she seemed concerned now. Something stirred in her chest.
Dave unfurled the sheet and laid it on the ground.
“We having a picnic?” Shelby asked, tensing.
“Kind of.” Lucas smiled. It was different this time, not the lovable, cute grin he usually wore.
“Okay, well, this was fun, but I think I’m going to go now.” She reached into her back pocket to grab her phone, feeling the need to reach out to her dad. Lucas snatched it away from her and threw it in the lake.