Forever Violet (Tangled Realms Book 1)

by Jessica Sorensen

  He instinctively leans into my palm. “A tree branch cut me.”

  “So, you got your ass kicked by a tree, huh?” I attempt to joke, but his consuming gaze is giving me a breathing complex.

  Jules’ lips quirk. “That’s not quite how it happened.”

  This time, my smile is genuine. “Yeah, yeah, I’d be saying that, too, if I got my ass kicked by a tree branch.”

  He chuckles, shaking his head, and I feel like I’ve won a secret prize.

  “Hey, do you remember that one time she actually tried to hit us with tree branches,” Shade muses from beside us. “She could be so sweet sometimes, but other times, watch out.”

  My head darts in his direction. “You knew me, too?”

  “Yep. And sometimes, it had its downfalls.” He rolls up his sleeves, showing me a gnarly scar on the bottom of his arm.

  “I didn’t do that,” I deny. “There’s no way.”

  “Oh, there’s totally a way.” He tugs his sleeve back down. “You were a mean, little wolf cub.”

  Feeling awful, I look back at Jules. “Was I really mean?”

  “You weren’t mean.” Jules sketches his finger along the brim of my nose. “You were feisty and passionate, and you wanted to be the best fighter there was, so you played dirty. But only in training. Outside of training, you were the sweetest wolf cub in the entire pack.” His gaze glides to Shade. “And he knows that. He’s just teasing you because that’s what Shade does.”

  I give Shade a dirty look, but then smile at him sweetly. “I’m sorry if I gave you a boo-boo. It must have been awful getting your butt kicked by a female wolf cub.”

  Shade dismisses me with a wave. “Like I care if I get my ass kicked by a female werewolf. Seriously, some of them are way tougher than any male werewolf I’ve fought.”

  “Was I one of them?”

  Shade nods. “When you were younger, yes.”

  “But not now.” It’s not a question. Just a depressing statement.

  “Not until some training.” Jules is the one to answer. “You have royal blood, so you have more power in you than most average werewolves and paranormals. You just need to relearn how to channel that strength.”

  “So, you’re going to teach me how to fight?” I cross my fingers he’ll easily say yes, that I won’t have to tell him about the attack yet. I know Legend said I should, but I’m not ready. Don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for that.

  He effortlessly nods. “Of course. It’s part of our pack’s rules that everyone learns to fight. And I want you to be able to protect yourself.” He dithers, bobbing his head. “Although, Shade and Rune will probably have to do most of the training.”

  I toss a glance at Shade, who shrugs, then look back at Jules. “Why?”

  His fingers magnetize toward mine again. “Because I’d go way too easy on you.”

  “Oh.” I let the last few hours of information sink in, wondering how much more I can take. “Did I used to know Rune, too?”

  Strands of Jules’ dark hair fall into his eyes as he nods. “When you weren’t with your parents, you spent most of your time with me, Shade, Rune, and Liberty.”

  “Who’s Liberty?”

  “I am.” A female werewolf a few years older than me with hair as black as the night sky and eyes as blue as Jules’ strides up the trail toward us. She reminds me of a warrior goddess in her leather pants, black tank top, and rows of leather holsters winding around her legs and arms. “And you must be the best friend I lost and who apparently can’t remember anything, at least from what I’ve been told.” She stops in front of me with her head tipped to the side. “Elora?”

  “Lake,” I correct automatically.

  “So, that’s what we’re supposed to call you now?” She ponders the idea thoughtfully. “Okay, it’s doable, I guess.”

  “Glad I have your approval,” I quip, resisting an eye roll.

  She grins. “Glad to know you still remember you need my approval.”

  Now I do melodramatically roll my eyes. “Glad to know you have such a high opinion of your approval. Makes me want to change my name to Jane.”

  She flicks her wrist dismissively. “I disapprove. Jane’s too boring of a name.”

  I tap my finger against my lips. “Yeah, I’m definitely going to go with Jane.”

  The conversation is so smooth, so natural, as if we’ve done this before.

  She slaps Shade in the gut. “She’s exactly the same!” she exclaims as Shade lets out a grunt, hunching over.

  “And that required you to hit me in the stomach, why?” Shade arches a brow at her while rubbing his abdomen.

  Liberty simply shrugs. “It seems as good of a reaction as any.” She smiles warmly at me. “You and I have a lot of catching up to do.” She seizes my hand and yanks me with her as she marches with determination up the path.

  “Liberty,” Jules calls out, chasing after us. “Slow the fuck down. You’re going to overwhelm her.”

  Liberty rolls her eyes. “No, I’m not. I’m just not going to coddle her like you are, little brother.”

  So, they’re brother and sister. That explains why their eyes look alike.

  “I’m not coddling her.” Jules rushes around and barricades the path, forcing Liberty to stop. “She’s been through a lot, and I don’t think it’s wise to dump everything on her at once.”

  Liberty pokes Jules in the chest. “Maybe you should let her decide.”

  “I …” Jules tugs his fingers through his hair, making the strands go askew. “Lake, do you want to go with her? She’s more than capable of protecting you and she has her own guard. I’d prefer it if you stayed with me, but it’s up to you.”

  They both look at me, and I feel like answering is picking a favorite.

  I’ve definitely been in this situation before.

  “Um …” I glance between the two of them, wondering where her guard is since I don’t see one anywhere. “Honestly, I kind of do want to go with her. But not to get away from you or anything.” Lie. Being around him makes my brain dizzy and too unclear. I think a small break might be a good thing … Maybe. Besides, I’d really like to learn more about these werewolf traditions no one will tell me about, and Liberty seems like the wolf who will spill the beans. “It might be nice to catch up with an old friend.”

  “Old best friend,” Liberty adds, smirking at Jules.

  Jules glares at her, but then sighs. “If you want to go with her, you can,” he tells me. “I’d never make or force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

  His words trigger a strange wave of sadness.

  Before I can even process what I’m doing, I wrap my arm around him and give him a quick, one-sided hug. By the time I pull away, worry has crammed into Jules’ eyes and Liberty is staring at me with her forehead creased.

  “Anyway, yeah, we can go hang out or whatever.” I cough a few times, clearing my throat.

  “Awesome.” Liberty snaps her fingers at Jules. “And you need to go clear the forest of any stray pixies. Dad’s coming home a few days early and wants them all gone before his arrival.”

  Jules grimaces. “Why is he coming home early?”

  Liberty gives a rigid shrug. “I don’t know. He didn’t say.”

  Jules bobs his head up and down, staring at the ground. “Okay, I’ll take care of the pixies.”

  “You should take Shade with you.” I cover my mouth as I snicker the words. “Shit, I didn’t mean to say that aloud.”

  “So, you’ve heard the story?” Liberty asks, and I nod, lowering my hand from my mouth. “I bet he didn’t tell you the whole story, though, huh?”

  I shrug. “Probably not, since his version was about thirty seconds long.”

  “Good. Then I’ll tell you while we walk.” She drags me with her as she dodges around Jules, but he folds his fingers around my arm, stopping me.

  “Why did Shade tell you that story?”

  “Um, because we were bored and waiting for you,” I lie
, and not very well.

  His gaze burrows into mine. “What did you two talk about while I was …” He squirms.

  “While you were what?” Liberty prods curiously.

  Jules targets a dark look in her direction, but his eyes soften as he concentrates back on me. “What other stories did Shade tell you?”

  “Maybe you should talk to him about that.” I stumble as Liberty yanks on my arm.

  “Be careful!” he shouts after us as I trip down the path after Liberty.

  I throw him a wave. “Tell Legend where I am, okay?”

  He nods. “And Liberty, don’t take her anywhere else except my house. No going downtown to any bars. And don’t go to the castle. I don’t want her anywhere near Dad’s place.”

  She salutes him then rolls her eyes as she faces forward. “Man, glad to see he’s still as overprotective with you as ever.”

  “Why is he like that?” I wonder as she loops her arm through mine.

  “Well, right now, he’s being that way because our father’s coming back to the kingdom and he’s not a good werewolf. Not at all. The longer you stay away from him and that stupid torture chamber he calls a castle, the better.” She slows down as the trees around us become sparser. “As for his general overprotectiveness of you, that comes from you being his alterum dimidium animae.”

  I swat some branches out of the way as we near the end of the path. “Yeah, here’s the thing. Everyone keeps throwing that term around, yet no one will explain it to me. And while I can tell it’s something big, the dramatic effect is lost on me.”

  “So, he hasn’t told you yet, huh?” She lets out a wicked cackle of delight. “This is going to be a lot of fun, then.”

  “What is?”

  “Telling you things my brother and his little guard wannabe friends don’t want you to know.”

  “You act like you don’t like them,” I say as we emerge from the trees. My gaze travels to the rose bushes where the shadow cubs were, but either they’re hiding or took off somewhere.

  “No, they’re my friends, and I love them and everything, but it’s been a pain in the ass being the odd one out. Ever since you left, I’ve been the butt of their jokes and tricks. And they all like to play the role of my big brother. Do you know what that’s like? To have three cocky werewolves who, FYI, are younger than you, trying to tell you what to do all the time?”

  “I can honestly say that I don’t.”

  “Well, consider yourself lucky, because it’s fucking annoying.” She drums her fingers against the side of her legs. “But, as much as I want to be the one to out the little alterum dimidium animae, I think we need to do it the right way.”

  A frown tugs at my lips. “So, you’re not going to tell me, either?”

  She shakes her head, grinning. “No, no, no, no. I’m totally going to tell you. It’s my duty as your old best friend. But I want to do it the proper way.”

  “Which is?”

  “Oh, you’ll see.” Then she hauls me forward, leaving me no choice but to trust her.

  Chapter 16

  It takes me until we reach the road to realize we’re being followed by a towering werewolf with scars on his face and black hair with blue highlights. When I ask Liberty about him, she explains it’s her guard, Kylan, that her father insisted she have, even though she’s perfectly capable of protecting herself.

  “Don’t bother trying to talk to him, though,” she mock whispers. “Kylan rarely talks.” She raises her voice. “Isn’t that right, Kylan?”

  Kylan responds with a grunt.

  “See.” She links her arm through mine as we stroll out onto the street. “Personally, I don’t think I need a guard. My father does, though. It’s just another way of him trying to belittle me.”

  “I’m sorry.” I don’t know what else to say.

  “You don’t need to apologize. It’s not your fault. Besides, you have your own tragic story to deal with, anyway.”

  She’s right; I do. And I wonder how I’m going to start trying to put that sad story together.

  I really need to ask Jules.

  I sink into my thoughts, letting Liberty steer me down the road and into a building, barely paying attention until we’re inside.

  “This looks like a bar.” My gaze sweeps the dusky walls, the scuffed hardwood floor, and the charcoal ceiling. Tinted glass tables and elegant high back iron chairs are placed sparsely around, a marble countertop bar runs along the far back wall, and lanterns filter light across the werewolves occupying the room. Some of the werewolves are old, but most are around my age, give a handful of years or so. They all appear happy, probably due to various sparkling drinks and amber liquids filling up their glasses.

  “That’s because it is a bar.” Liberty unloops her arm from mine and signals for me to follow her as she skips across the bar. Kylan doesn’t follow, remaining near the front doors, stiff and on edge.

  I rush after Liberty, keeping close, noting the few curious glances being thrown in my direction. “But I thought Jules said no going to bars.”

  “Don’t worry; this is a special kind of bar where only friends and family of Jules and mine are allowed to hang out.” She stops in front of the bar and heaves a sigh when she notes my reluctant expression. “Lake, please don’t tell me you’ve turned into one of those female wolves who does everything their wolf lover tells them.”

  “Jules isn’t my wolf lover.” When my cheeks flame, she laughs. “I just get nervous being around a lot of werewolves.”

  She drums her fingers on top of the counter. “Why? You used to love being the center of attention. Well, when you were fighting, anyway. I guess not so much when the five of us were just hanging out.”

  “The five of us …? You mean, Jules, Shade, Rune, you, and me?” I catch the strangest whiff of a familiar scent, but I can’t place from where. And when I breathe in deeply to try to smell it again, my nostrils are assaulted with an overwhelming combination of different werewolves’ scents.

  I peer around the bar. There’s so many of them here.

  “Yep,” Liberty says. “We called ourselves the badass wolves pack. We were pretty lame.”

  “It doesn’t sound that bad.”

  “Nah, it wasn’t. We had a lot of fun.” Peering from left to right, she pushes up onto her toes, leans over the counter, and steals a bottle of silver glittered liquid. Wrapping her fingers around the bottle, she nods her head then casually walks over to a vacant corner booth.

  “Did you just jack that?” I whisper as I slide into the booth across from her.

  She shrugs, twisting off the cap. “I know the bartender. He’s kind of a prick.”

  “But he doesn’t own the bar. Stealing effects the owner.”

  “His father is a prick, too.”

  “I thought you said only family and friends of yours and Jules’ come to this bar.”

  “I did.” She drops the lid onto the table and takes a swig of the drink. “The owner is my uncle, and my cousin is the bartender. They’re both straight-up pricks, just like my father.”

  “So, you don’t like your father, either?” I ask, taking the bottle when she offers it to me.

  She reaches for the centerpiece candle on the table. “No. Most werewolves don’t. You shouldn’t, either.”

  “I don’t. … Jules told me a little bit about him.”

  “He did?” She gapes at me. “He rarely talks to anyone about him.”

  “I asked him about the rings,” I explain. “Which led to a story about your father.”

  “Oh.” She rotates the candle between her hands. “That’s good—that he talked to you about that. He’s needed to talk to someone for a long time, but my brother’s extremely closed off.” She flops back in the seat. “Except for with you when we were little. Glad to see that hasn’t changed.”

  “He hasn’t told me everything, like what this alterum dimidium animae thing is.” I give her an opening to explain.

  She reaches over and taps the bottl
e in my hand. “Drink first, then we’ll talk. It’s the only way you’re going to be able to handle this without freaking the crazy wolves out.”

  “Maybe I’m better at handling scary stuff than I used to be.”

  “Maybe, but you’re still going to freak out about this.”

  “How do you know that for sure?”

  “Because, when we were younger, we used to talk about what would happen if either of us got a alterum dimidium animae. I said I’d beat the crap out of them, while you insisted running away and never looking back.”

  “Oh.” Now she has me really worried.

  I warily sniff the bottle and feel warm flutters in my chest. “What is this stuff, anyway? Because, the last drink I had from this realm was laced with silver and burned like a mother-effer. Thankfully, I’m a princess, or else I would’ve probably died.” I take another whiff of the drink, which makes my stomach somersault. “Are you a princess?”

  She flips her hair off her shoulder. “Nope, I’m a straight-up badass warrior, which completely contradicts me having a guard.”

  “You’re lucky, though, that you’re a warrior.”

  “Being a princess isn’t that awful. It has some perks. And you can still be a warrior.”

  “I’d like to be,” I admit. “But I don’t want to be a princess. Or queen, anyway. That’s way too much responsibility.”

  “I’d like to agree with you because I’d prefer my old best friend to fight battles with me, but for my brother’s sake, I’m kind of hoping you’ll become queen.” She offers me an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

  “It’s fine.” I sigh, my gaze dropping to my drink. “So, are you going to tell me what this is so I can drink this and you can explain to me why every werewolf who knows Jules seems to think we’re like soulmates or something?”

  The corners of her lips twitch, as if I said something amusing. “It’s just a little vodka mixed with a bit of faerie magic dust. We werewolves refer to it as the lovely winged drink. It doesn’t have an official name.”

  “You guys drink faerie magic dust?” I pull a wary face at the drink.

  A devious grin spreads across her face. “Great. Is my old friend a bit of an old scaredy cat shapeshifter?”