by Jayne Hawke
I rolled my eyes and stood up. Maybe a good fight was just what I needed.
43
THE OTHER TWO COUGARS came over to see what was going on. Valentin remained seated, watching as I squared up to four toned, blond cougar shifters, each in their late twenties or early thirties with sharpened teeth and claws. The shadows of their cougar markings bloomed on their cheekbones and brought out the clear gold in their eyes. The leader was broader with the sleeves on his shirt rolled up to reveal muscular forearms.
“You should run while you still can,” he said with a sneer.
I smiled sweetly and allowed that sweet rage that I’d been holding back for weeks to rise. His eyes went wide as my fist connected with his jaw. The soft familiar pain that formed in my knuckles felt far better than it should have. I was lost to the motions of the fight, the feel of pain rising and dulling as my body healed and we continued on with blood dripping and teeth bared.
The cougars fought with feline grace and efficiency. They flowed around each other without sparing so much as a glance. Their intensity would usually have sent a shiver down my spine, but in that moment I relished it as much as the sound of breaking bones and gasps of air being driven from their lungs. A bottle flew through the air and collided with the leader’s temple. He turned and snarled at the barman, who was shouting at us to obey the rules.
No one had told me about any rules. I ducked under a swift punch and drove my own fist into the lower abdomen of the leanest of the cougars. Blood was smeared around his mouth where I’d broken his jaw a few minutes ago. His eyes were cold and hard with blood lust that I knew was echoed in my own. Valentin had joined the fight at some point. He was fierce and aggressive. My wolf side appreciated watching the savagery with which he fought. He swept the legs out from under the taller older cougar and stamped down on his knee with a satisfying crunch.
The cougars were growing tired and more vicious. Their claws sliced through Valentin’s and my clothes and flesh, sending blood spraying over the dark wood. I returned the favour and slashed at their vulnerable stomachs with my own claws. The desire to stop playing and end them entirely was beginning to grow. I quelled that, not wanting to become it.
It was all over in the blink of an eye. A small woman with pointed ears and crystalline blue eyes was suddenly standing in the middle of the brawl.
“Sorry, Sylvia,” the cougar leader said, keeping his eyes low.
The fae woman looked at each shifter in turn, watching as they bowed their heads and backed away.
“You’ve had your fun, now leave,” she said sharply to us.
Guilt overcame me. I should have known better than to indulge in those instincts. I’d never gotten into a bar fight before.
I followed Valentin out into the broad daylight and was startled to see blood was still dripping from his arm and ribs where the cougars had torn into him. I went to touch the wound, but he pulled away. The tear in the fabric of his shirt showed that the wound was still open and bleeding. My own injuries had healed already, leaving me famished. I frowned. Why hadn’t he healed?
“We’ll do this again, Rosalyn. Without the fight,” he said with a smile before he leaned in and brushed his lips over my cheek.
Heat spread through me, and whatever concerns I had over his not healing faded, leaving behind only a desire to spend more time in his company.
44
I WAS QUICKLY RUNNING out of nice shirts and dresses, given the fights I kept getting into. I’d changed into a comfy The Last Airbender t-shirt and some old shorts before I settled down in front of my laptop again. The apartment still felt empty, as though I was rattling around like the last person in the world. It was ridiculous. I’d been alone so many times before.
The Grim wasn’t coming up with anything useful about rogues or the goings-on in the community. So, I started searching the wider internet for information. It was hit and miss with lots of fluffy stuff that was completely irrelevant. After an hour of searching through meaningless stuff ranging from D&D lore through to weird things that I wanted to scrub from my brain, I gave up. Picking up Callie’s notebook, I began leafing through on the off chance that maybe there was something in there.
Amy texted me saying that she had something on the witches that she didn’t want to say via text. I invited her over, feeling relief at the company. I added a second text asking if she knew anything about rogues, the tracking of them, and turned garou.
She replied saying she’d bring a few books over along with pizza. My stomach growled despite the fact I’d eaten two steaks only an hour ago. I really hoped that wasn’t going to be a normal part of being a garou. I really couldn’t afford to eat like that. Realistically, I couldn’t afford to eat at all. Images of running through the forest on the trail of a deer filled my mind, and I shoved them aside. I wasn’t going to start hunting for prey like that. It felt like a slippery slope that would end with me as a pure animal.
Amy arrived ten minutes earlier than expected, which I appreciated. I opened the door to find Cole standing behind her giving me the alpha glare that I increasingly hated. He and Amy were both holding a lot of old-looking books, I ignored those and took the pizza boxes.
“So, this is your alpha?” Amy asked as she put her books down on the kitchen table.
“No.”
“Yes.”
Cole and I said at the same time. I narrowed my eyes at him. He glared at me back.
“He would like to think of himself as my alpha, but I’m currently without a pack,” I said.
Amy looked between us and took a half step back, making sure she wasn’t between us before she flipped open the first pizza box.
“I got two meat feast pizzas, with extra meat.”
I grinned.
“You are a godsend.”
The pizza was absolutely perfect and still piping hot. I’d almost eaten my first slice before I remembered my manners.
“I’m sorry! Thank you!”
Amy waved me off and offered the pizza to Cole.
“Don’t worry about it. You wanted to know about rogue garou?”
Cole’s jaw tightened, and his glare intensified. I rolled my eyes at him and smiled sweetly at Amy.
“Yea. I’m having a lot of trouble tracking the rogue down.” I looked pointedly at Cole. “I’ve looked on the Grim and got nowhere. Could the rogue actually have been a fae?”
Amy chewed on her pizza for a minute with a frown on her face.
“In theory. It’d have to be a really powerful and dedicated sidhe, though, one with royal blood,” she said.
My stomach dropped, and I almost lost my appetite. Almost.
Cole raised an eyebrow at me. I ignored him.
“Oh, so I got into a fight earlier.” Cole sighed at me. “With Valentin.” Cole’s expression darkened further. “He didn’t heal as quickly as me. I thought born garou healed better than turned?”
“Could have been magic or poison holding his healing back,” Amy said with a shrug.
“Remind me, where did you meet this Valentin?” Cole asked as he crossed his arms.
“He saved me from hunters,” I growled.
Amy held the pizza up between us.
“Another slice anyone?”
I took another slice.
“What was it you wanted to know about turned garou?” Amy asked, not so subtly changing the topic.
“I...” I didn’t really want to talk about this in front of Cole, but I also didn’t want to be rude in front of Amy. “I have this anger inside of me. Cole really brings it out. I want to get it under control.”
“That’s your wolf side being angry at being caged,” Cole said finally sitting down.
“I’m not going to let it run rampant,” I said, taking another slice of pizza and sitting opposite him.
Cole shook his head.
“You don’t let it run rampant. You accept you’re one and the same.”
I didn’t miss the tired frustration in his voice.
&
nbsp; “Just like that?” I said.
He really brought out the worst in me.
“You’ve shifted. Did you feel as though you were riding in the wolf’s body? Or were you the one running?”
I wrinkled my nose. I felt like myself.
The anger subsided some, and my head began to clear as I thought back on that feeling of being in my wolf form and running. The adrenaline and sheer bliss that came with it was unlike anything else.
“You need to work on hiding the fact you’re a garou, too. You might as well have a neon sign above your head shouting, ‘I’m a garou come and shoot me,’” Cole said.
“I do not have a neon sign!”
My cheeks flushed at the humiliation.
“You kind of do...” Amy said quietly.
I got up to get myself a drink.
“Ok, so how do I fix that?” I said to Cole.
He shrugged.
“Get better control.”
Of course, it all came back down to control.
“Can you elaborate?”
He smirked.
“Accept you are your wolf.”
I wanted to throttle him and wipe that smug smirk off his face. He was just so pleased with himself that he got to bring it back around to that. Amy put her hand over her mouth to try and hide her laugh.
“You make an adorable couple.”
We both glared at her, and she laughed openly then. There was no way I was going to entertain the idea of dating Cole Loxwood.
45
IT WAS THE BIG NIGHT. The shadow ball. Cole had insisted on getting ready at my place. I was pretty sure he was worried I was going to try and get out of it. My feelings on that were mixed. I’d been excited as I showered and moisturised, but then the nerves hit me when I returned to my room. Cole had brought my gown over with him, and it sat on my bed in a beautiful crisp white box with a pale blue ribbon around it.
My heart was racing in my chest as it all really sank in. I was going to a ball. Not just any ball. A ball with some of the most powerful beings in the supernatural community. With just a towel wrapped around me, I carefully undid the ribbon on the box and lifted the lid. The gown was wrapped in delicate silvery-blue tissue paper that I peeled back.
The stunning fabric shimmered under the warm light of my overhead fixture. I reached out and ran my fingertips over the cool silk. Swallowing down my nerves, I lifted the gown out of the box, and it was stunning. The neckline was high and straight, the fabric cascaded down to the floor and moved as though it had a life of its own. I’d never seen anything quite so beautiful in my life.
Carefully setting the gown back down on my bed, I set about getting my hair and make-up perfect. I’d spent the entire day watching make-up tutorials on YouTube so I could look my absolute best. Cole was getting ready in the living room. I heard him walking around while I was trying to get my eyeliner just so. He finally settled down and sat on the couch as I was applying my lipstick. I had chosen a simple, elegant look which highlighted my bone structure and eyes.
Next came my hair, which fell two thirds of the way down my back. I was tempted to leave it in its natural waves, but that didn’t seem quite fitting for a ball. It took a lot of fighting and a handful of bobby pins, but I managed to wrangle it up into an up-do that seemed suitable. A natural wave of hair fell down around my face, softening the angles and giving a little elegance. Or so I thought.
I began looking through the bags that had sat in the corner of my room since Cole had bought them for me. The clutch bag was easy to find. I opened up another bag, expecting it to be the satin pumps only to find the pair of black strappy sandals I’d fallen in love with. My heart swelled as I realised that he’d bought them for me after he saw me looking at them. The gesture was very sweet, especially given he hadn’t said a word about it. The next bag revealed that he’d also bought the beautiful white dress with the blood-red ribbon edging and corsetry running up the back that I’d fantasised about being able to afford. Maybe Cole wasn’t such an ass, after all.
The gown was thankfully easy to put on, and the pumps weren’t so bad to walk in once I remembered to shift my balance as though I were in my wolf form. I looked in the mirror and saw myself. Mom would have been so proud of me.
I gave myself one final once-over in the mirror before I walked out into the hallway. Cole was leaning on the doorway to the kitchen waiting for me with his hands in the pockets of his tailored pitch-black suit pants. He took my breath away. His usually slightly scruffy hair had been fixed in a way that made my fingers itch to run through it. Those beautiful golden-green eyes that were usually hard and full of frustration shone with excitement. He pushed off the doorway to show that the suit had been tailored to perfectly show off just how good his body was. Broad shoulders were hugged by the black fabric and the crisp white shirt wrapped around a throat that I wanted to kiss. I looked away, feeling like a complete fool.
“You look beautiful,” he said softly.
I smiled and turned towards the door.
“Shall we?”
COLE PULLED UP IN FRONT of what could only be described as a mansion. Landscaped gardens complete with manicured rose beds wrapped around the large cream building. It stretched up three stories and spread out what looked to be more than double the width of my entire apartment building. Tall rectangular windows were evenly spaced across the front façade, which boasted a large balcony area on the second floor.
Beautiful people in expensive magic-laden clothes were stepping out of their sportscars and chauffeur-driven luxury cars. I felt completely out of place. Cole fit in well enough in his bespoke suit with the sportscar, but I wasn’t him. I was some small turned garou that had dreamt of being a baker a month ago. Lifting my chin, I refused to let the fear of being rejected control me.
Cole opened my door and offered his hand to help me out. I was glad of it as I teetered on my new pumps and cursed myself for not practising walking in them around the apartment. Cole wrapped his arm around my waist and subtly gave me the support I desperately needed to remember my balance and try to look dignified on his arm. My gown flowed around me and was a dream to walk in. It made me feel beautiful for the first time in a very long time. I focused on that sensation and tried to ignore the looks from the primped fae and shifters around me.
We made our way up the shallow steps into the entryway, which came with an obligatory chandelier. Servants in full navy blue and silver livery made their way around the crowd with silver trays balanced on their white-gloved hands. They each wore blank polite expressions that looked eerie and made me wonder if they were entirely in control of their minds and bodies. I wouldn’t have put it past either fae or witches to control their servants in an effort to make sure they were absolutely perfect. There were rules and laws in place against removing someone’s free will, but I was pretty sure there were laws against making a shifter your pet, too. That didn’t stop anyone. Something about the slight stiffness in their movements and the fixed line of their mouths made me think they weren’t.
I allowed Cole to lead me through the people milling around in the entryway with its vaulted ceilings and dark wood panelled walls. He glared at a younger-looking fae who went to touch my bare arm. I suspected that he was a type of fae who’s magic worked with touch and found myself appreciating Cole’s protectiveness. There were more forms of fae that I could possibly count, each of them with more magic in their little finger than I had in my entire body. They were all sociopathic predators, some were just better about hiding that than others. We made our way up the long wide stairs with expensive carpet running up the centre of the dark hardwood. Slowly, the sound of muted conversations faded and string music by a composer I wouldn’t know if my life depended on it came into hearing.
We stepped out onto the balcony, and I reflexively looked up at the stars sprawling across the fabric of the night sky. I’d star-gazed with mom and later Jake, and something about it always soothed me. Cole squeezed my hip, bringing my attention back
to those around us. A tall, broad shifter with intense slate-grey eyes was approaching us with a slender woman on his arm. Her gown skimmed the cream stone floor and had been cut to give the impression of curves. The scooped neckline dipped low and exposed her toned shoulders and arms. The green fabric shimmered with a gold tone under the bright moonlight overhead. Small white orbs hung some eight feet or so overhead, providing a soft light that didn’t block the view of the sky.
I watched the pair approach as I felt Cole prepare himself. He tensed and held me a little closer. Everything about the pair screamed predator, and I instinctively drew myself up, ready to defend myself.
“Cole Loxwood, it’s been too long,” the woman purred.
Cole gave a small nod and ignored her hand, which she held out for him to kiss.
“You brought a shadow,” she pushed.
“I wouldn’t be here otherwise,” Cole said flatly.
I’d expected Cole to be charming with everyone here. They were, after all, his people.
The woman pursed her lips.
“I have taken on Marcus, here.” She gestured back to the broad man.
Cole tensed and said nothing. I must have missed something there. The woman looked to be a witch. Her bone structure wasn’t quite fine enough to be a fae.
“Enjoy your evening,” Cole said before he led me away.
“Be careful. Fae and witches enjoy taking our kind as pets. Marcus and his ilk are traitors. They act as the fae and witch shadows, gaining small magics and power in return to handing their own kind over to become pets,” Cole whispered in my ear.
A shiver ran down my spine. I couldn’t imagine doing that. When I heard of our kind being taken as pets, I’d assumed the witches kidnapped small children or something. It had never crossed my mind that our people would sell us out for a little magic. I glanced over at Marcus and saw a chilling smile on his face as he stretched his fingers out to run them along a teenage girl’s pale cheek. He looked at her though as he was going to devour her.