“Did your mom tell you anything about your powers before she passed?”
“Powers?” I looked at the floor briefly to gather my thoughts. “You keep calling them that, but my dad and I refer to this unnatural ability as a condition.”
“I’ve seen what you can do,” he said. “It’s called magic. You used real power out there in the parking lot. Did your mom explain your powers to you?”
“If she did, I can’t remember,” I said. “I do remember how much she and my stepdad argued in the months leading up to their deaths. Almost non-stop. He was cruel to her. I don’t know why she wanted that in her life. I forced myself to shut out those images for the longest. Now I can’t even remember the sound of my mom’s voice anymore.”
“I’m sorry.”
“The fire that killed them wasn’t an accident. Even the investigators confirmed it. My dad believes my mom’s family killed her. He said they controlled so much of her life. While he gave up everything to be with her, in the end, her family and my stepdad were responsible for keeping him away from my mom.”
“You mentioned that you were looking for something the night you came out to my party?” he asked.
“What does the crest on your front door stand for?”
“The crest?”
I nodded. “The emblem of the wolf. Is that your family crest?”
“Yes. It’s a family insignia. And it’s also the symbol of my Pack.”
“How many of you are there?”
“Hundreds of thousands,” he said, slowly. “They’re not all Caedmon, though.”
My lips parted involuntarily. “Really? I’ve seen a few of your kind here and there, but I never imagined there would be so many of you. Just like I came to grips with the fact that there aren’t many who can do what I can do.”
I took a seat in one of the side chairs, and Dawson followed.
“Most of us run in Packs. We’re split up into groups. Caedmon, Arnou, and Other. During this era, it’s not uncommon to meet wolf shifters who haven’t pledged to either group. We’ve fully blended and adapted to living within the confines of human society. I’m Caedmon.”
“And what about Arnou? Are they any different?”
Dawson shook his head. “Not entirely. We descended from one wolf shifter, Markus Caedmon. Arnou split up after a fallout between the Pack leaders and formed their own Pack. Other followed suit.”
“Other?”
“Those who possess the spirit of Caedmon but cannot shift are referred to as Other or the human branch.”
My throat tightened as I took in information that I wouldn’t have believed had I uncovered it years ago. “Do you think that maybe I could be Other?”
There was a pause as he regarded me slowly with hooded, dark eyes. “No. You are a witch.”
My heart dropped as he delivered that same verdict once again. “It’s beginning to look like I’ll never find out anything. My dad knows very little, and my mom kept her background from him.”
“I’m going to be quite honest with you, Alessia. Wolves and witches aren’t exactly on peachy terms. Not all witches are bad, but there are several Circles who instigate actions that lead to the suffering and demise of wolves.”
“Why?”
“Because they can.” Dawson shrugged. “I’m not fond of their motivations, but it’s been confirmed that they’re after our spirits. They want to humanize us.”
“You are just as human as I am. I mean, you look human. Unless there’s something about you that I don’t understand yet, I don’t see you as a threat. Even regular wolves pose no threat to humans when left alone in their environment.”
Dawson smiled. “I’m glad you understand that.”
“It took me some time to realize that. I never gave any of the shifters I encountered any indication that I knew what they were. Except for you. My guards were down that night and I simply lost control of myself before I realized that I was using my abilities.”
“One advantage witches have over shifters is that they can see us without us ever revealing our true forms.”
“How so?”
“The original Caedmon didn’t just wake up one day as a shifter. The change happened by asking for assistance from the gods and with the help of a witch’s magic.”
“What was this change?”
“The spirit of a wolf was bonded to a man. As a result, he was afforded the ability to shift from man to wolf at will. Not only did he change, he also received some powers as a gift from the gods. Most witch Circles haven’t forgotten this, and there is reason to believe that a counter-spell exists that strips Caedmon of their wolf spirit.”
“That’s fascinating, but I don’t know any spells.”
“That doesn’t mean that you aren’t capable.” He eyed me incredulously.
“So, you don’t trust me?” I asked.
“You haven’t killed me yet.”
“You don’t seem scared for your life.” I countered.
“That’s because I’m more concerned about yours.”
His statement seemed sincere. “We met the other night and we’ve only been together for a short time. Why would you be concerned?” I asked.
“A wolf knows more than you think he does.”
There was more to his declaration, but my head was already reeling from overexerting myself earlier and the sheer amount of knowledge he’d given me.
“Will you help me? I don’t know anyone else who can. I don’t know anything about the witchcraft and spells you’re talking about. Even if I did, I’d never kill anyone or anything.”
“You do know that you’re asking me to go against strict orders not to engage with witches, right?” he asked.
I lowered my attention to our reflections on the marble floor. Was this the reason my dad had kept me so close all these years and had warned me never to tell strangers about myself? Did he know that I had enemies—possibly the same enemies as my mom? I couldn’t place my complete trust in Dawson. Not just yet. But I needed answers, and he seemed to have a hoard of them. I’d have to do everything in my power to keep my guards intact. If I had to use my gifts as I had earlier in the parking lot to protect myself, I would. I hadn’t met his wolf yet, and I didn’t know what a man who couldn’t control his animal was capable of.
Dawson appeared to be a little more uncertain than he was moments earlier. I sensed the abrupt change in his demeanor. I probably wouldn’t gain his total trust, but I needed more some answers.
I lifted my chin and my gaze. “It’s too late. You’ve already engaged.” I smiled seductively, using my fingers to trace the necklace around my neck. “There must be something about me that has brought you here. Would you be able to stay away from me now?”
His attention had dropped to my breasts, as any man’s would, but then he quickly diverted his eyes. He licked his lips and looked more flustered than he had before. His dominant ego had waned. It dawned on me that Dawson wasn’t the type of man who was seduced by women very often. Had I turned the tables on him? With his actions, I could sense his anxiety and his difficulty to find words. As a lawyer, he was probably more apt to put others on the spot. I was more than tickled by my ability to see right through him, to read him—emotions and all.
I crossed one leg over the other. “Well? What about it? I want answers, mainly about the witches, and you want…?”
“We’ll take it one day at a time. I’m not certain what I want, but it definitely involves you,” he said. And just like that, the smugness and dominance returned.
Two spirits within him. Both were conflicted. By the end of it all, I’d have to uncover who the real Dawson was.
Chapter Seven
Dawson
Since the party, the cleaning crew had repositioned the painting on the wall. But I'd look at it every time I passed by it, never forgetting the woman who'd brought it to life.
“Something about this painting distracted her,” I told Devin, who stood to the left of me, glancing up at the ar
twork in confusion.
“What about it? It looks like a normal painting to me. As a matter of fact, it’s a picture about absolutely nothing,” my only living half-brother said.
“The style is called abstract. Don’t you know anything?” I teased. “It’s been hanging there for as long as I can remember, even when our dad owned the place.”
“Does the woman you’re referring to paint this way? Maybe she was truly just admiring it?”
“There were similar pieces in her shop, but I don’t think this is hers. She would have said something.”
“You said her name was Alessia, right? And her surname is van der Hoeff.”
“I’ve searched our records and no last names like that came up,” I replied.
“The witches are known to change their names on a whim, so it doesn’t necessarily mean anything, but the name could belong to her dad.”
“You’re right,” I said. “I’ll see her again tonight. I’m sure she’ll tell me more.”
“So you visited her last night?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I couldn’t help myself.” I held up my hand. “And before you say anything about it, I take full responsibility and whatever punishment you have for me.”
“I’m not surprised that you would break a rule and then ask for punishment afterward.”
“I am the troublemaker,” I added. “There’s something about her, Devin. I don’t know, but I think…” I paused, uncertain how to phrase my feelings without sounding stupid.
“You’ve confirmed that she’s a witch?”
“I’m ninety-nine percent sure.”
“And she didn’t try to kill you?”
“No, she didn’t. I mean, at first she did…”
“Gods, really? Are you welcoming death?” Devin gawked. “Did she use any spells on you?”
“I don’t know,” I said quietly.
“Dawson…” Devin exclaimed, his tone was deep and he looked at me with a disappointing stare.
“I know. I know. Remember when you told me the moment you met Tamara that you weren’t certain that she was truly yours, but something inside of you couldn’t let her go? You said it took time for your wolf to convince the man that he did, in fact, have a mate in Tamara.”
“Yeah, but you’re playing with fire, Dawson. If she’s a witch, she’s capable of making you believe what she wants. Do I need to go over the accounts of this type of deception happening? Our Uncle Roman and possibly our father. Our brother, Damon, who was pushed to his death from a mountain. Nick. There are those we don’t even know about that are still under witches’ spells.”
“She’s different.”
“How so?”
“She didn’t even know she was a witch. I had to tell her,” I said.
Devin ran his fingers through his hair and let out a deep sigh. “Now that she knows, don’t you think she’ll try to use her gifts…against you?”
“She can try, but the fact that she has no memory of the mother who gifted her with powers, and she’s never been active with other witches outside of her home should be a dead giveaway that she’s not a rival. Not all witches are against us. I have to help her. I’ve already agreed.”
“Dawson, I can’t support this. You are my brother first and I’ll do anything to protect you, but we’re both under obligation to preserve and protect this Pack. If you get involved with this stranger, you’re putting us at risk. Are you willing to risk your neck and your affiliation should we find out your witch is plotting to murder us all?”
“My wolf wants her as its mate.” There, I’d said it.
“Witches have the power to make you believe that. Nick—”
“I know what happened to Nick. You don’t need to remind me, and I’m certain he doesn’t want to be reminded either.”
“This is sudden, Dawson. I know you, and I simply can’t accept that you’ve done a complete three-sixty from your promiscuous lifestyle and are now wanting to mate.”
“I’m not promiscuous,” I corrected. “I don’t bed every pussy walking on two legs. Not even four, for that matter. I choose my women wisely. Don’t get caught up in all the hype, dude. It’s all hearsay.”
Devin rolled his eyes and then turned to face me. “You’re my only brother. You and Elisa are the only siblings I have. You’re my blood. I don’t want to lose you.”
“I have much love for you, too,” I said. “But I don’t want to lose the woman who could possibly complete me. You’re happier than you’ve ever been since you met Tamara and she gave you pups. All of the Council is happy. Don’t I deserve that too, even if my mate isn’t who I thought she would be?”
“Yes, you do.”
“It’s happened before where a wolf’s mate turned out to be an enemy. Whether it’s some cruel intention of the gods, I don’t know. I do know that I don’t want to die without ever knowing a mate. If I must die to have her just once…I will.”
“If she is the enemy, do you understand what could happen? You’ll be jeopardized. You may very well be a target already?”
“We all know that the witches aren’t targeting specific Packs or people. It doesn’t matter if one is a member of that Pack or this Pack. They’re only interested in destroying one thing—a wolf’s spirit.”
“What if she turns out to be your mate’s imposter, and this time, your wolf spirit is the one that’s stripped?”
“If that were the case, she would have already stripped me. I’m still wolf. In fact, it is my wolf who was first mesmerized by her, not the other way around,” I said. “If she truly is my mate, I fully intend to claim her. If she is our enemy, I’ll change that.”
“You’re certain?”
“She’s mine. I’m very certain,” I said.
Devin sighed. “Once you find out who her mother was, I want to know.”
“Fair enough,” I said. “You’re the only one I could talk to about this. It’s not something I wanted to hide from you. I know that in the end, you’ll do what you have to do, and I’ll do what I have to do. I’m not just your little brother anymore. I’m a man. Now that I’ve laid claim to her, I’ll decide how it ends.”
Devin nodded. Yet, a glint of resistance existed in his gaze.
Chapter Eight
Alessia
After closing up my gallery that evening, I walked down to the mail unit on the side of the building. I didn't expect to find much since most of my packages were brought right to my front door. I wasn't into hoarding papers or anything else for that matter, so normally, I ended up shredding most of the mail as spam.
My keys jammed in the hole as I twisted and turned it. Unfortunately, the chilly air had gotten through my skin and chilled me right down to my bones. The first snow of the season would fall very soon. I could almost taste it in the air. I made a note to order more layered clothing tomorrow in my spare time. Shopping at the mall wasn't an option for me. I absolutely hated trying on clothes in dressing rooms. Which was why no matter how deep I ventured into my closet for an outfit to wear to tonight's outing, I could barely find anything I was fully satisfied with.
I'd told myself over a dozen times today that this meeting with Dawson was in no way, shape, or form a date. But if so, then why did the same nervousness run through me now as it had during the last date I was on? I wasn't trying to prove anything to him. I was just trying to find out what he knew.
Since I preferred to be a homebody, I didn't date as much as other women my age. My friend, Donna, said that I needed to test the waters more. My last date had been with a guy named Roger, who’d thought it was strange that I had barely stepped foot in a school, yet knew more about stocks and investments than he did. And he'd just been hired to work at a prestigious investment firm in New York. Since my dad was a stockbroker, the two of them probably would have clicked immediately. Roger and I never hit it off, even after a handful of dates. There was no spark or flame between us. There was no burning light within him like I saw with Dawson. There was no comparison, and I should
n't have been attempting one in the first place.
Dawson seemed to understand me to an extent. I didn't have to worry about him discovering that I was different, only to throw up cross signs at me.
I cringed as a vision from my not so distant past crept up on me. Memories of boys and girls shielding themselves against me with cross signs as if I were some evil spirit. I had only been ten years old when that happened, but the memory still stung like hell. Their parents had done absolutely nothing to stop it, even with my dad sitting nearby. That was the last time I went to the park.
I withdrew a bundle of mail from the box and stuck it down in my handbag, then made a beeline for my car. If there were no traffic on the freeway, I'd make it home just in time to change clothes and head out to meet Dawson.
Chapter Nine
Alessia
As usual, my dad’s BMW was parked in the garage. On any given weekday, he was home before me, but what was unordinary to me was the aroma of food cooking when I entered the house. The kitchen was located right off of the garage, so it wasn’t as if I could avoid the smell or my dad.
My dad hadn’t cooked in almost a year. His part-time chef came out and cooked two meals a day whenever he worked on time-consuming projects. When he cooked, I knew that either, one: something was absolutely wrong, or two: a deal or contract had sided in his favor at work. But on favorable nights when his investments yielded more than expected, his idea of celebration was cracking open a bottle of the finest scotch imported from The Netherlands.
Wolf's Temptation (Caedmon Wolves Book 7) Page 5