Wolf Bound (The White Wolf Prophecy Book 1)

by Kayleigh King

  I quickly swipe the tears from my face and motion for Esme to keep going. The next card doesn’t need explaining, and I can’t help but read the card’s name aloud before Esme can. “The Lovers.”

  “Oooh! Pruitt, do you have a secret lover you haven’t told me about?” Remi teases as she pulls the card closer to herself so she can see the artwork of Adam and Eve. “Are these all hand-painted? It looks like it. Hey, Pru, maybe that’s something you can do, paint tarot cards, and sell them online. I bet some people would pay top dollar for that shit. What do you think, Esme?” Remi rambles on as she examines the card, even going so far as to scratch at the paint with her fingernail.

  Esme doesn’t answer. Remi and I both look across the table at the older woman who is staring straight at me. Her black eyes have glossed over, and I see they are darker and shinier than before.

  “Holy shit. Is she okay?” I ask as I wave a hand in front of Esme’s face, but there is no response from the psychic. “Esme?”

  Remi tilts her head to the side and looks at the still woman. “She’s fine. She’s just having a vision.” Remi shrugs like it’s not a big deal, and what she said was completely normal.

  “A vision? Like…a vision? Like she’s seeing the future right now?”

  “Yep!” Remi says, popping the P for emphasis. “Maybe it’ll be about you! Wouldn’t that be cool?”

  “Umm, no.” I have enough weirdness going on in my life right now, and the last thing I need to worry about is a vision of my future that may or may not happen. I haven’t told Remi about my dreams or sleepwalking. I’ve only told Addison about the dreams, and even then, I left the sleepwalking out. Addison’s had a lot going on lately, and I don’t want to worry her.

  All of a sudden, Esme exhales and shakes her head. Her eyes have cleared some, but her previous cheerful expression has been replaced by a look of sorrow. “Oh, child,” she starts, “The lovers card is a little different for you.”

  Of course, it is.

  “What? What is it?” I squeak, honestly terrified of her answer.

  “He’s on his way, the one you’ve been looking for. As we speak, he is on his way to you. But another is coming, a darker soul. You must be careful of him, he brings destruction and trouble.” Esme reaches across the table and grabs my hand. Her own hands are ice cold to the touch. “I fear a painful decision is in your future, and it will be the hardest thing you will ever have to do. But you’ll know the right choice to make.”

  The room is thick with tension, and I feel a slight electrical charge in the air. My mind races as I try to process what she has said. Part of me wants to heed her warning and believe she truly just had a vision of my future. But the rational part of me says this whole event is bullshit and to not put any weight into it.

  We sit in silence as I contemplate the bomb the psychic has just delivered.

  “Well, what the fuck does that mean?” Remi finally asks.

  I’ve always hated my birthday.

  Ever since I woke up in the hospital after the accident, I’ve never wanted to celebrate. Even though I don’t remember what my birthdays were like before that night, I knew deep down they would never be the same again. How could they? My parents weren’t there to celebrate, and I never had friends to invite to a party. By the time I was twelve, I had convinced Addison I didn’t want any parties or presents, and we agreed on a family dinner and a card, which was more than enough for me.

  Remington doesn’t know my birthday is actually today, which is good because I know she would have wanted to throw a big party for me. Just like they are doing today for her father, Elias. His birthday was last week, but apparently, the nice family dinner I had attended that night wasn’t enough for the Weylyn family.

  “I’m sorry I’m missing your birthday today, Pru,” Aunt Addie tells me, her soft voice coming through the speaker in my Jeep. “But I’ll be back at the end of the week, and we can have our dinner then.”

  Addison owns a chain of high-end clothing boutiques across the country, and she is required to travel often. She tries to spend an equal amount of time at each location, but it’s been getting harder and harder for her to do since she’s now up to seventeen storefronts. Addison’s currently in New Orleans, working on opening the eighteenth location. Being the control freak she is, she insists she be the one to train the new staff and make sure everything runs smoothly. I don’t know why she bothers to have an assistant when she won’t let the poor girl take charge of anything.

  “You know I hate my birthday, Addie,” I say as I make the turn into the Weylyn’s mile-long driveway. The gate usually requires a code is wide open, allowing the guests to drive in. The party for Elias technically started an hour ago, but I didn’t worry about being on time as I figured I wouldn’t be missed, seeing as, according to Ransom and Ranger, Margot, their mom, had basically invited the whole town.

  “We can order pizza in or something when you get back.” I reach up and remove my sunglasses from my face as the sun has set enough that it’s no longer blinding me.

  “I thought we would try the new steakhouse that opened in town,” Aunt Addie replies. She sounds tired, and I can’t help but think about how she’s seemed worn-down and drained the last couple of months. Her usually upbeat self just hasn’t been there. I’ve also noticed she is looking a little older than her actual age of forty-five. I had tried to talk to her about slowing down some and delegating, but she wouldn’t have it. “We need to get you out of the house more, or you’re going to be known as the Town Hermit,” she adds with a laugh.

  I gulp at the word hermit. I’ve been thinking nonstop about my appointment with Esme earlier this week. No matter how hard I try to shake it off, her words and her vision have shaken me. The part about the lovers card had specifically gotten into my head.

  “…The one you have been looking for…”

  Of course, the first thing I think about when I recall Esme’s words is the wolf. Even after ten months of having the same dream, I haven’t given up hope he’s real and we are somehow connected. His golden eyes match the golden glow surrounding him, and every night I see those eyes staring back at me from across the dark clearing.

  I remember I’m on the phone still and turn my attention away from my thoughts of the wolf and try to listen to what Addison is saying. “…and it was nice of the Weylyns to invite you to the party today. I wonder how many people they’ve invited. With the size of their house, they could host the whole town and half of the neighboring ones too.”

  “The twins said there should be a hundred people here today.” The thought of so many people makes my skin crawl. I may be comfortable with the Weylyns, but being around that many strangers makes me nervous, and I pause a moment with the thought of texting Remi and telling her I can’t come after all. I could easily fake the flu… “No, I’m sorry—cough—I woke up with this horrible head flu, and I’m afraid—cough–cough—I would get all those people sick—cough—and I don’t want to risk it. I’ll send Elias a muffin basket in my place—cough.”

  But as quickly as the idea comes into my head, I dismiss it. Knowing Remington, she would drive to my house and pull me out of bed and force me to come anyway. She doesn’t get told no often. I’ve learned to pick and choose my battles with her, and today, that’s a battle I would not have won.

  “I don’t understand how they even know that many people,” I say to Addison. “Yes, I know we live in a smaller town, but still, I don’t get. Everywhere Remi and I go, people recognize her and stop to talk.” I cringe the second the words leave my mouth because I know how that sounded.

  “Yikes. You might want to tuck that jealousy back in before you get to their house.”

  I don’t want to be jealous of Remington, but sometimes I wish I had the large happy family she has or I could make friends as easily as she can. Remi is the only friend I’ve ever felt close to. The small friendships I made while in San Francisco were surface level. Enough to sit in the campus café together, but nev
er close enough to know or care to learn much about their families or private lives. Whereas Remi and I clicked the minute she sat next to me in our English Lit class.

  “I know. I heard it too.” I bite my lip as I pull my Jeep into one of the only parking spaces available on their driveway. I barely fit my car behind a monstrosity of a black truck. I just know I would need a running start to even climb into that beast. “Okay I’m here, I’ll call you when I leave. Love ya, Addie.”

  Addison says her goodbyes, and I sit in my vehicle, staring at the large house in front of me. I don’t understand how Margot has enough time in the week to keep it cleaned and organized, but every time I’m here, the Weylyn house is immaculate. I know in total, there are six Weylyn family members, but I’ll never know why they need a house this big. One wing of the wood cabin-like mansion is a six-car garage. I’ve been in there a couple times and seen it’s full of all kinds of toys. From jet skis to ATVs, Elias Weylyn has something for every outdoor activity. It makes sense, I suppose, since their home is directly on the lake and they spend the majority of their time outdoors.

  I grab the gift basket I put together for Elias from the passenger seat and pull myself out, then take a deep breath before heading to the door.

  I know knocking is pointless since I hear loud music and voices coming from the backyard, so I don’t bother. No doubt, everyone is hanging out on the patio around the pool.

  The house is eerily silent as I walk inside—not surprising since all the fun is out back—and my heeled booties click across the dark hardwood floor as I make my way into the kitchen. After dropping my gift on the dining room table along with the rest, I move toward the backdoor. I’m halfway there when the hairs on the back of my neck rise, and I realize I’m not alone.

  Whirling around, I find a tall, muscular man standing in the living room. Startled, I jump back and inadvertently let a small yelp escape.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he apologizes. A crooked smirk grows on his classically handsome face. “I was just about to go raid Elias’ kitchen to find the good booze. I know he has some around here. All they have down there is canned beer and white wine.”

  “Not a fan of wine?” I clear my throat and lower my hand from my chest, where it flew when his presence caught me by surprise.

  “I’m more of a whiskey or bourbon guy,” he explains as he walks past me. “What about you, what are you drinking?” He leans around the cabinet door he opened, his forest green eyes scanning me head to toe.

  I’m suddenly glad I had put some effort into my appearance today, opting for distressed skinny jeans, bootie heels, and a black tight high-necked tank top. All pieces from my Aunt Addison’s shop, of course. My long blonde hair is twisted into a chic side braid, and I left a couple pieces out to frame my face. I even went as far as to apply a pale pink lipstick.

  Remi will be proud of me.

  “I just got here, so nothing yet,” I tell him, fearlessly meeting his gaze. He has the boy-next-door look, classically styled dirty-blond hair, and a clean-shaven face. Cute—just not my type.

  “But you’re looking in the wrong place,” I inform him, smirking as he opens another door only to find more dishware. “Elias hid the good stuff a month ago because the twins kept drinking it all.” I walk over to the kitchen cabinet that holds Margot’s expensive china, and move a few pitchers and stemware out of the way, revealing a stash of high-end liquor. I pull out a bottle of pricey whiskey and hand it to the blond-haired man. “Here you are, just make sure the twins don’t see you with it. Elias won’t appreciate it if he has to find a new hiding place.”

  “I promise I can keep a secret.” He crosses his heart with his right hand in a dramatic fashion.

  I nod in thanks as he takes a step toward the backdoor. “See you out there—umm…?” I realize I don’t know his name.

  “Sawyer,” he tells me. “And you are?”

  “Pruitt, or Pru. I’ll answer to both.”

  Sawyer cocks his head, examining me again. His eyes narrow as they meet mine, and after a moment of staring, he shakes his head. “I swear you look familiar. Have we met before?”

  “Doubt it.” I play with the ring that used to be my mom’s that sits on my right ring finger. “I’ve lived in San Francisco my whole life. I just moved here at the end of last summer.”

  “Huh,” he mumbles. “Well, I’ll see you out there.”

  I watch as Sawyer walks through the back door and down the steps leading to the stone patio, and see the multi-level surface is full of people of all ages. I never would have thought that kids would be attending a party for a fifty-year-old, but it looks like mostly families are here.

  My gaze continues to follow Sawyer as he weaves through, and something in my gut tells me to pay attention, he’s going to lead me to something important.

  My eyes never leave his white button-down clad back as he makes his way through the crowd. People smile and wave, obviously recognizing him. Which is odd, because of all the times I’ve been to the Weylyns’ home in the past ten months, I have never seen him around.

  Sawyer stops in front of a pretty young woman with raven-colored hair and a tall tattooed man. Suddenly fascinated in the latter, my gaze scans him, starting at his heavy boots and slowly making its way up his low-slung jeans.

  He’s wearing a tight black t-shirt that does a horrible job at hiding how muscular he is as his thick tattooed arms look like they barely make it through the sleeves. I follow the tattoos up to his neck, where I see them peeking through the collar of his shirt and swirling along his jugular. I don’t know if I have ever found tattoos attractive on men before, but something calls to me. I want to trace every single one of them with my finger, and I wonder how much of his body they cover.

  Finally, I manage to move on to his face. His serious gaze is scanning the yard as he listens to what Sawyer and the pretty girl are saying to him. He doesn’t speak as far as I can tell but gives a curt nod here and there.

  The more I look at his stern face, the more I realize I’ve seen it before. Hanging in pictures frames all over the Weylyns’ house.

  Holy shit, that’s Ryker Weylyn.

  Ryker is the oldest Weylyn sibling, and I’ve yet to have the opportunity to meet him. According to Remi, he hasn’t been home in over five years. I’ve never asked why since it’s none of my business, but the small amount of information I’ve gathered makes me understand why he looks serious in all the photos and in person. Remi told me when Ryker was thirteen, he lost someone very important to him. And I’m certainly one who can understand how losing someone important to you can mess you up.

  There’s also no denying all of the Weylyn siblings are related. They all have the same dark-brown hair and bright-blue eyes. The twins, Ransom and Ranger, are a lot leaner than Ryker, I see now. He is bulkier and taller than them, not by much, though. Elias is tall himself, it makes sense his children would be too.

  Having been lost in thought, I focus back on the tall, dark-haired man. Then, suddenly, still staring at his striking face, I realize something makes me wish the floor would swallow me whole.

  Ryker is staring back at me. From my spot up in the kitchen window, I can tell his eyes are wide and his mouth is slightly gaping.

  And at that moment, I see something else too. The same golden aura that surrounds the wolf in my dreams shines around Ryker, and the glittering golden air around him shimmers brightly in the sun.

  I don’t know I’m moving before I find myself ducking around the corner from the window, out of sight from everyone’s view.

  His view.

  I place my face in my hands and take large, gulping breaths. I don’t know why I’m hiding. Well, maybe it’s because I’m absolutely going crazy and seeing things!

  It’s time I sign myself into a mental institution. Very vivid dreams and sleepwalking are one thing, but when the craziness starts to creep into my real life, that’s when I need to get help.

  Out of nowhere, my body feel
s like it’s been electrocuted. The shooting and zapping pain starts at my scalp and shoots through my skin. Gasping, I throw my hand over my mouth as nausea wracks my body so hard I’m lurching forward, vomit close to making its unsightly escape. I quickly make a beeline for the closest bathroom as the last thing I want to do is lose my lunch all over Margot’s pristine living room floor.

  Just as I’m rushing past the front door, I hear a voice call to me. “Pru, you look like shit!” Remington hollers after me, her footsteps sounding as though they’re right behind mine. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  I barely make it to the toilet before I’m hurling my brains out.

  4

  Ryker

  I forgot about my father’s fiftieth birthday last week. Just add it to the list of reasons why I’m a horrible son.

  Walking into my childhood home for the first time in five years is like stepping back in time. Very little had changed or moved. Mom had bought new sofas for the living room, and the chandelier in the entry is also different, but everything else looks the same.

  While this place should feel like home and welcoming, for me, it feels like a graveyard. As if being back here wasn’t bad enough, we had arrived in the middle of my father’s birthday party, and from what I could tell, the whole pack is here.

  Even though I’ve been gone for years, my inner wolf recognizes his pack members. While the human side of me has no issue being away from my family or pack mates, my wolf longs for the companionship. I know wolves are pack animals and forcing my wolf away from his community was unfair, but I simply couldn’t be here any longer.