Prophecy Accepted: Prime Prophecy Book 2 (Prime Prophecy Series)

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Prophecy Accepted: Prime Prophecy Book 2 (Prime Prophecy Series) Page 7

by Tamar Sloan


  Dana grabs Tara’s hands, the two red-heads look like bobbing apples. “I never wanted to leave. My friends are here; school is here. When I heard you were Alpha, that was the clincher. I could finish school; I could be with my pack and my sister.”

  So, Kurt knows Tara is Alpha. I wonder how he feels about that.

  “Wow. What did Dad say?”

  “That the minute I walked out that door I would be dead to him, too.”

  Tara’s breath hitches. I’m pretty sure the same fragment is reverberating in everyone’s head—dead to him, too. I doubt it will ever leave Tara’s.

  Beside me, Dana dances the dance of the oblivious. “But I don’t care. What he did was wrong.”

  “Let’s not worry about all that for now. Who are you staying with?”

  “Uncle James and Aunt Steph. They’re happy to have me, free babysitting and all.”

  Tara throws her arms around Dana again, her purple colors disappearing as Dana’s flowing black sleeves and gown clasp around her. “It’s so good to see you.”

  “This is going to be awesome, Tara; you’ll see.”

  Dana looks over Tara’s shoulder, even her younger sister is taller than she is, and her face lights up again.

  “Here comes my lift. Maybe we should double dance…” Dana glances at Noah and me. “Ah, triple dance.”

  Noah has gone hard against me again. Now what? I look up to see a brown-haired guy approaching us. It’s my turn to freeze. The guy from Shoshoni, Emily’s guy, walks toward us, smiling one of those smiles that seems genuine at a distance, but the closer he gets the more strained it looks.

  Dana dances over toward him then wraps robed arms around his own. This guy is conspicuous because he’s not dressed as anything. His height, width, and t-shirt and jeans in the cool spring air all start to spell an impossibility. Emily’s guy is a Were.

  Mitch crosses his arms as Tara steps back. “Seth.”

  Seth. Emily’s guy is Seth? Shock quickly dissolves as I absorb the significance of this. Noah gave me a run-down of the Alpha vote, never saying Seth made him edgy, but not needing to. Seth glances at me before looking away, dismissal clearly on his face.

  Noah’s arm softens a little, giving me a squeeze. He can feel my discomfort, not knowing its cause is far more complicated than he thinks. This isn’t a girl being intimidated by a Were; this is a girl facing a truth she doesn’t want to admit. This is the guy that fell for a human. That ended it with a human.

  Seth’s smile grows, seeming to feed off the tension. “When Dana invited me for the surprise, I wanted to be here to see the family reunion.”

  Tara smiles her own wide, strained smile. “Great to see you, Seth.”

  “Happy birthday, you two.”

  “Thanks.” Noah is the only one to reply.

  Dana finally picks up on the tension; she smiles a bright smile. “Why don’t we go celebrate?”

  I don’t know how the Grandfather Douglas’ branches haven’t collapsed under it. The weight presses down on my chest; I can see the strain between the Alpha and the one pack member that wants her position, the tension between the Phelans and the Channons. Tara and Mitch caught in between.

  Seth looks at the four of us, but his eyes spend the most time on me. “It’s certainly something, seeing so many humans and Weres together. Having a good time.”

  I stand very still, making a conscious effort not to shift my feet over the dry pine needles.

  Noah’s eyes narrow; I think he’d cross his arms if my hand wasn’t firmly wedged in his. “The way it should be.”

  Seth’s eyes leave mine to look at Noah, serious hazel not matching his smile. “Of course. It’s wonderful when we can connect.”

  “The way it should be and will be,” Noah says the words, and they ring with the authority of the Alpha he will one day be.

  “I think we should join the party.” Tara steps forward, pulling rank, showing that size doesn’t matter when it comes to being an Alpha.

  Seth looks toward the pulsing lights. “I don’t think I will dance, Dana.” He turns, throwing another smile over his shoulder, now looking at everyone but me. “See you guys at the run tomorrow.”

  The one I won’t be at.

  We head back to the thumping, smoky party. Tara and Dana show the same genetic resilience, bopping and bouncing by the time we reach the punch table. Mitch has no choice but to be caught in the updraft.

  I know what will get Noah’s spirits up. I grab his hand and head back to the dance floor. Some pop song that has held on doggedly to number one is thumping over the lawn. Noah’s eyes light up, those broad shoulders already moving in a sexy roll as he follows me. I decide I’m more than willing to risk looking like an uncoordinated doe if I get to watch Noah moving to music. It’s rock poetry in action. No one is going to let Seth ruin this day.

  Tara and Dana have a reunion to celebrate.

  Noah and Mitch have a birthday to celebrate.

  And this Eden is going to celebrate their milestones with them.

  9

  Noah

  The Glade on a full moon steals my breath as surely as Eden in a dress. Or Eden in jeans. Or even thinking of Eden for that matter.

  It’s night time, but the moon’s white glow lights the arena like a silver stage. Phelans and Channons filter in, preparing to run like they always have on the night the moon is at its most impressive. We’ve done this for generations, and we will for many more to come. But this time is more special than the ones that have been before, more significant on so many levels.

  To start with, the Phelans have their Alpha back. Dad is finally well enough to run. This is the first time since he recovered from his coma. I wonder what his physio would think of this little exercise. He steps into the clearing with Mom, looking big and broad and proud. But not only that, his Alpha heir will run with him for the first time. And I’m right there beside him, not quite as big and broad, but certainly just as proud.

  Also significant is the new Channon Alpha. Tara joins from the east side of the Glade, her own pride making her look almost normal sized. Mitch is beside her, the two making a striking pair that I would follow in a heartbeat. Representing a decision that begins to blur the line between two packs that are neighbors and allies but have always remained separate.

  No one needs to say anything; this is as natural and normal as nature itself. The shifting happens quickly, quietly, fueled by anticipation. The Glade fills with the metallic scent of so many humans becoming wolves.

  I face forward, being at the head of the pack has the advantage of no one seeing your chest when you change. In a split second, I’ve gone from upright to four paws on the ground, from dulled human senses to sharp animal perception. From stationary to speeding through the trees.

  And I finally experience what it’s like to run with your dad, your mom, your brother, your pack. There is a chorus of paws hitting the ground, creating a low muffled rumble through the soil. Panting breaths surround me, the occasional excited yip penetrating the glowing black air. Canine and conifer sting my nostrils, spearing deep into my lungs. There are wolves everywhere. Each running and howling until our legs want to fall off and our hearts want to fly.

  We all merge into a whole, running close, running hard. A pack of individuals, working as one. It’s amazing, and I wish Eden were here to experience it with me. To see the wave of wolves moving through the forest. Dividing among the trees, coming together again when out in the open.

  But Weres have been the only one to witness this since we began.

  I slow a little, looking at the massive wolves around me, browns and reds, dark and light, shades of grey all outlined in silver.

  Could Eden ever be part of this?

  A grey shoulder slams me to the side; Dad’s blue eyes zoom in close, exhilaration making them shine. I falter to the side, and as I right myself, Mitch shoulders me from the left, his breath coming in short, excited puffs.

  Bring it on boys.

  We
run, overtaking the pounding animals around us. The three of us spearhead to the front of the pack, all thunderous paws and lightning speed. I dip into my reservoir, adding a sprinkling of speed, taking myself to the forefront.

  Overtaking all but one.

  A chocolate brown wolf rounds a tree and falls beside me, matching my thundering pace. Hazel eyes catch mine as wolfish lips tip up, before stretching forward and giving himself another burst of speed. Seth just issued a challenge.

  He has no idea.

  I release the pent up tension that had been coiled, waiting, and sprint forward. Seth expected this, and he picks up momentum besides me, his head once again level with mine. But he doesn’t expect me to become a silver streak of speed. His heaving breaths fall behind me as I maintain the momentum, like I can do this all night. He tries, he really does. But he’s no competition for the burning fire that has been kindled in my soul.

  Up ahead I see the stand of boulders, and I wonder if I unconsciously led our packs here. To the place where I’ve already been, with the one that made this possible. With the one I want here.

  Without thought, I execute the double jump to the top of the tallest rock. First Seth, then Dad, Mitch, Tara and the others reach our destination. They mill around, panting with exertion, leaping with abandon. And standing there, on that rock, I can’t help myself, I howl long and hard. I appeal to the glowing moon. I call out to Eden.

  I free the divided desires tearing me apart.

  Back at the Glade, the Phelans and the Channons naturally divide. Leaving Mitch with a tough call.

  He makes the decision I knew he would, following Tara to the east side of the Glade. The Channons need a strong, united front. And an Alpha without her mate isn’t going to instill unification among anyone.

  I change, my back to the Phelan crowd, and turn to see Dad watching me, a micro-frown catching the moonlight. I grin and come forward to slap him on the shoulder, ignoring the barely perceptible darkening of his features. “That was awesome. Thanks, Dad.”

  “Nice running.”

  I squeeze that shoulder. “You knew I was fast.”

  He opens his mouth then closes it, because jostling Phelans surround us, and Mom wraps me in a hug. Relief broadens my smile; I wasn’t sure if I was going to have to explain the overtaking the whole pack thing or the weird show of modesty.

  Just like they would have always finished, we stand in the clearing, facing the Precept Rock, chests heaving, hearts celebrating.

  And that’s where the similarities to the past end.

  Because there is a gust of wind, a groan of trees.

  And the rock grows. I mean, literally rises from the earth like a fist punching through the soil.

  Some people gasp, a few shift, others, like me, are silent. Somehow knowing this giant rock is heralding big change.

  The Precepts start to glow, their letters taking on a red-silver shine, making the words glitter in the silvery darkness. Laws we all know, all follow, are being emphasized with magical red highlighter.

  You shall not reveal the bloodline

  You shall not bond with the opposite bloodline

  You shall not attack another blood member

  You shall obey the Alpha

  And before the eyes of every Werewolf, more words, another line, begin to form. Carving slowly and undeniably into the rock.

  It’s a short sentence, straight to the point like all the Precepts are.

  He who is above the law is the law

  Simultaneously, something rises as something sinks inside me, deep in the part that knows this has something to do with me.

  I look at Dad, but he’s doing the strong-silent-leader thing. He crosses his arms and nods. I look over to Mitch. He’s looking at me with burning intensity.

  Yep, this has something to do with me.

  “Yeah, it seems that way.”

  Dad hangs up the phone. We’re almost home, having driven through the bumpy, bushy track to the Glade, and Dad’s cell started ringing the minute we hit the highway. There won’t be any online posts, no hashtags, no emails about what just happened at the Glade. This will never be recorded.

  But there will be a lot of talk.

  All the Alphas talking to the other Alphas about the new Precept. Most calling Dad, because the Phelans are such an old pack and ours was the first Glade. Thanks to Were hearing, I hear the voices on the other end of the line, some reaching from other countries. There’s all sorts of statements –

  ‘At yours, too?’

  I grit my teeth. Yes, everyone saw it. EVERYONE knows.

  ‘This means big things...’

  I cross my arms as the unsettled tones hang in the cab of the truck.

  ‘Who?’

  I hunch my shoulders. The one-word question every Alpha has asked.

  Weres who are going to want answers.

  Dad drops the phone into the console, a big sigh leaving his chest. Mom pats his arm, her strained eyes never leaving the road. Mitch has been listening as intently as I have, his hot, fierce gaze watching me the whole time.

  The tension is driving me crazy.

  “I wonder what it means,” I muse aloud, hoping to lighten the mood.

  Three stunned faces turn to me, the truck blatantly losing miles per hour.

  “You don’t know?” Dad sounds like I just asked if the Easter bunny will be coming this year.

  “He doesn’t know.” Mitch is just as gobsmacked.

  “No, I don’t know,” I say, feeling a little exasperated and a lot out of the loop. This is probably another example of the two-year gap in my Alpha education.

  Mitch’s burning gaze is back on me. “It’s the Prime Prophecy.”

  I look to Dad, not being able to hold those hot blue eyes anymore. Hot blue eyes that hold something significant. Dad nods. “Yeah, the Prime Prophecy.”

  “Okay.” I draw out, waiting for something more than the repeated statement.

  Mitch grabs my shoulder, and I have no choice but to look back at the blazing blue. “It’s like the ultimate Alpha. An Alpha to rule all Alphas.”

  Oh.

  Dad nods again. “It seemed more of a legend. One day an Alpha would be chosen to lead all Alphas.”

  Oh. “But what for? Each pack already has a leader.”

  Mom turns to look at me in the back seat. “We don’t know.” She turns to look at Dad. “Everything seems to happen for a reason, though.”

  Dad grunts an assent. Their easy acceptance doesn’t sit well with me. There are other questions that need to be asked.

  “Why now?”

  Dad drums his fingertips on the steering wheel. “Another valid question, but one that I can’t answer.”

  The last question I don’t say out loud. It’s the question that has Mitch’s face hard and focused and his eyes trying to punch a hole in my face.

  Another question that won’t have an answer.

  Why me?

  10

  Eden

  I look at the dress lying across my bed, mouth tense, brows low, arms crossed.

  Why would she think I would wear that?

  I wonder if I can still be angry at Noah for getting me in this situation. It had been a Wednesday study afternoon when Alexis had come home, all surprised to see us. Despite the fact she was home two hours earlier than any other day of the week.

  Grey eyes had turned to me, the steel in them making me wary. “I have some good news.” The ability to say those words without a smile is a talent few people have mastered. Alexis has a black belt in it. “I’m receiving an award for our winter marketing program.”

  “Great.” I didn’t bother smiling either.

  “There will be an awards dinner.” Those steel eyes held me still.

  Oh no.

  “When?”

  “Saturday.”

  My mind had scrambled for a valid excuse. The helicopter trip was booked for the following weekend. Could I move it forward? I’d looked to Noah, hoping for a get-out-of-
jail pass. His eyebrows had hiked up in question. I hadn’t told him about these functions I get dragged to, playing happy family. How much I hate them. But I could see he registered the panic in my eyes, felt the sinking of my stomach, realized that ‘no way’ was about to come out like a nuclear projectile.

  “We’d love to come.” Noah’s arm slipped around my shoulder, his blinding blue-eyed, teeth-glinting, breath-sucking smile bedazzling my mother.

  I’d been wide-eyed. Did he just say I’d go? And invite himself?

  My mother’s practiced perfection was almost shattered by her own round-eyed shock. But she’s an accomplished perfectionist and recovered quickly. She’d crossed her arms, and I could almost hear the papers shuffle as marketing trends were shelved and she weighed her options. Look rude and un-invite Noah? Be smart and admit defeat?

  “Sounds lovely.”

  Or go with the opportunity presented her.

  “Great. It sounds like a fun night. And congratulations.” Noah’s smile never budged.

  Mine was buried, possibly never to surface again.

  “Thank you. I’m looking forward to it.”

  Alexis’s eyes had scanned me from head to toe then come to rest on my face. “I’ll get you something to wear.”

  Then she’d spun on her heel and headed back out the door.

  Noah’s arm had come back around my waist. “I think I just scored some brownie points with your mom.”

  “But you’re now in the negatives elsewhere.”

  His summer sky eyes had widened, the smile slipping a little.

  “You have no idea how awful these things are. Why would you do that?”

  His arms pulled me to him. Apologetic eyes looked up beneath dark blond lashes, his mouth pulled into a goofy droop. “Your mom looked like this wasn’t going to be very negotiable.”

  “It’s not, usually. I was working on an escape plan.”

  “Well, I figured if I gate crashed, maybe it wouldn’t totally suck lemons.”

 

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