Wolf Shifter Diaries: Love United (Sweet Paranormal Wolf & Fae Fantasy Romance Series Book 4)

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Wolf Shifter Diaries: Love United (Sweet Paranormal Wolf & Fae Fantasy Romance Series Book 4) Page 17

by E Hall


  “Me too,” I reply.

  We walk along the beach and don’t look back as the island welcomes the morning in sunbathed glory.

  As much as the internet is a great tool, I don’t miss having it at Headquarters in Polaris. Enough is going on among the pack to keep everyone connected—especially with the constant wolf-way of communication. However, it turns out Pepper’s phone is partially what saved the day last week in Hawaii.

  A bonfire blazes as we all gather around the clearing after a hearty barbecue. With thanks to Pepper’s grandma, we have brownies a la mode for dessert—I had a double serving.

  It’s mid-January and although there isn’t a formal holiday we’re celebrating, we’re all happy to be back on packlands.

  As a group, we’re discussing the existence of the dragons and the scepter.

  “One afternoon in Hawaii, while I was lounging poolside at the resort, I was going through the photo and video app on my phone. I came across the strangest thing.” Pepper describes what Corbin and I found in the tunnel inside Lonsdale and recorded a drawing on the wall. “It was like a user manual for how to reunite the jewels to the scepter and then replace it on the mountain.”

  “What are the other dragons like?” I ask. We haven’t officially met.

  “They’re kind of like if Yoda and an Ent got married and had a baby.”

  I laugh then explain to some of the other pack members who don’t know of those classic characters from Star Wars and Lord of the Rings. I’m glad Pepper has her dragon family, Clove has the male fae, and they have each other.

  We also have our parents, which is pretty awesome. It’s amazing how my family went from two—just my mom and I, which was great—to enough people to populate a couple of softball teams. I’m looking forward to playing some games when the snow thaws.

  As little flakes fall from the sky, I’m afraid that won’t be for a while.

  “What are you thinking about?” Corbin asks.

  I rest my head on the space between his shoulder and chest. He absently plays with a loose piece of my hair that escaped from under my hat.

  “I’m thinking about family and how lucky I am. When I dove into the ocean after deciding to sacrifice my wolf so that awful song would stop, I didn’t know what would happen. Only what I hoped would happen. All I knew was I was willing to do anything so other magicals didn’t have to go into hiding and miss out on family, parents, or knowing who they are.”

  Corbin snuggles me close and kisses my temple. “We’re the lucky ones, Kenna.”

  My cheeks are already rosy from the combination of the fire and cold, but I blush and beam at the same time.

  “Who’s lucky?” Baker asks. “I’d say every one of us. So, give us the full rundown of what happened. We were a bit late to the pool party.” He winks at Camilla. “She did her best flying, but it was a long haul to Hawaii.”

  Clove steeples his fingers, having returned to his serious and smug self—mostly. But we’re planning an annual tropical getaway so he can tap into his fun, carefree side. “I’ve thought a lot about this. Starting with the fae song that was constantly in Kenna’s head, because she existed outside Melchior’s original curse, he put a different curse on her.”

  “But the necklace must’ve kept everyone safe from Kenna’s song because its energy was going into the pendant. Then Melchior activated it that night at the luau, so the pendant was using her power to summon and enchant people,” Pepper says.

  “So what happened with the ghost pirates?”

  “The fae queens broke the curse, freeing all those under its hold. The pirates dissolved though—ghost guts,” Avril says.

  I wrinkle my nose. “Thanks for the assist by the way.” It means a lot she jumped from the chopper with the intention of rescuing me.

  The surly wolf shifter lifts her shoulder in a half-shrug. “Don’t mention it. I’ll do anything for my sisters.”

  I move to hug her but stop myself. She’d probably prefer I not express my appreciation in front of the pack and our friends. Wouldn’t want anyone to think she’d gone soft.

  “Mom, how’d Ivan get the scepter?” I ask.

  “I called in the club,” she says, referring to the Brooklyn Vampire Club. “Ivan was all too happy to help. We made a trade with the sea fae, telling them we would break the ghost pirate curse once and for all.”

  “They went along with it?” Inga asks, surprised.

  “It was that or what Ivan called a red tide—grim magic. The sea fae weren’t too thrilled. But the possibility of ridding the ocean of the ghost pirates compelled them to act.”

  “By compel do you mean mesmer?” I ask.

  She doesn’t answer. That would be a yes.

  “Last but not least, what became of Lila and Isa?” Clove asks.

  “They’re among the original nine muses or fae queens. Lila joined her sisters. As for Isa, the last I saw her she was with Alden—my father,” my dad explains. “They had to use a lot of magic to destroy Melchior, I imagine he’s now sailing the Sea of Dreams.”

  I think about how Isa helped me restore my wolf and cast away the fae. I wouldn’t have minded if they could’ve peacefully existed within, but that was not too be. My fae was too loud. Literally. Plus, now I get the best of both worlds.

  “What about your fae magic, Kenna. Do you miss it?” Camilla asks.

  I swirl my finger, sending a little sparkler-like burst into the air by the fire. “The magic fused. I’m no longer fae, but a few of my abilities remained.”

  We continue to chat about what happened on that fateful day, but I’m tired of thinking about it. I’m looking forward to what’s next. And whatever that is, I know I’ll have Corbin by my side.

  “So, speaking of family. What do you think of a pack of little wolf-shifters running around?” he asks.

  “We’ve only been married for a few weeks. And don’t you think I’m on the young side?”

  He lifts and lowers his shoulders. “Fair point. But remember, I may look young, but I’ve been around a while.”

  “Nah, you’re a pup yourself. At least by shifter standards. But to answer your question, yes, I’d love kids someday.”

  “Good, because I’ve been waiting all my life for you, Kenna. But I don’t mind waiting a little longer to have a family of our own.”

  I give him a big kiss on the lips. “In the meantime, let’s run.” I get up, summoning my wolf.

  I blow my family, my pack, a kiss and take off into the night. My shift comes naturally now, and I welcome the press of bones and the growth of fur, fangs, and claws.

  Corbin races after me along the woodchip lined path. Pine and spruce trees shelter us from the falling snow. The sky is a smooth surface that stretches in every direction.

  I let him catch up, flirting with him as I cut a sharp turn then carve through the forest with him at my tail. He gains on me and soon we’re side by side.

  Wolf to wolf. Alpha to Alpha. True love to true love. Heartmatch to heartmatch.

  The sound of his wolf’s heart is a song all its own. One I invite into my own heart.

  I slow down when we reach the bluff and sit on the cold ground. Meeting his copper eyes, I lift my muzzle. He knows what’s coming. He presses his flank to mine and twines his neck around my neck. Together, we call to the stars.

  I am wolf, hear me howl.

  If you enjoyed The Shifter Diaries series, you may also like Law and Disorder

  Book 1★RIP Magic Academy Paranormal and Supernatural Prison Series

  An excerpt is below

  Chapter 1

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  I am going to fall in love...and I’m not going to like it. Mostly.

  The thought is on repeat in my head...and the dread is in my body. Not the falling in love part. No, that’ll be good, but the heartbreak part.

  “You have a look, Maija,” Chelsea says as she trots across the sand and wraps me in a hug.

  My shoulder lifts and lowers nonchalantly as if to say, nop
e. No look. Cool as a cucumber over here. Little known fact: even in hot weather, the insides of a cucumber remain unaffected. Yes, I’m a dork. Even my parents are cooler than me. Story of my life.

  Chelsea wags her finger at me. “I know you and you have a secret.”

  I gaze into the near-darkness, looking for someone to bail me out because she isn’t wrong.

  Her mouth drops open. “You’ve fallen—” She grabs my jacket and pulls me close. “You’ve fallen in love. Who is it? Summer fling?” she practically shouts.

  I widen my eyes and shake my head. “Shh. No one. I’m not in love...” I trail off.

  No, it’s more like I’m currently obsessed with the possibility of falling in love...and terrified of the promise of heartbreak.

  I experienced the fullness of those facts the same way as right now I hear cars honking, doors slamming, and the rushing waves in the background as everyone gathers for the last beach bonfire of the summer before school starts tomorrow. They’re irrefutable. Certain.

  I felt it like I can feel the breeze on my skin, the warmth of the bonfire on my face, and the sand under my feet.

  It was as real as the nervous fluttering in my stomach about going back to school. Senior year. Chelsea gets wrapped up in the recent arrivals saying farewell to summer.

  Speaking of love, Keiko’s high laughter harmonizes with Reggie’s lower tones—they’re high school sweethearts. I hear chatter and hooting and happiness. Also, the melty chocolate scent of S’mores—I hightail it over to the fire and my friends.

  As I roast a marshmallow, I gaze into the darkness on the edge of the bonfire, hoping Carter will appear, telling me the girlfriend thing was only a rumor. How amazing would it be to cap off my high school career by finally dating him and having a high school sweetheart story of my own?

  Instead, Chelsea trots across the sand and wraps me in another hug. She’s very touchy-feely. In one breathless flurry, she says, “Omigosh-what-did-I-miss?” She spots the marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers then makes grabby hands and says, “Ooh, gimme.”

  “I’m the designated S’mores supplier.” I was assigned this job because last year Keiko ate all the chocolate before anyone else got to it. I pass a roasting stick.

  “A marshmallow magic wand,” Chelsea says with a flourish and steps closer to the fire, promptly incinerating her marshmallow.

  My mouth drops open. “Wait, what did you do to your hair? It’s—”

  “Pink!” She passes me the stick with the scorched ball of goo on the end and strikes a pose. “Do you love it?”

  I couldn’t see it before, but in the light of the fire, it glows bright pink.

  “I was so tired of having mouse brown, boring hair. It’s a new year, I wanted to go bold.”

  “In that case, mission accomplished.”

  “I was saving it as a surprise. Consider it a belated birthday present.” Chelsea laughs.

  “My birthday was yesterday and you got me a spa set and helped my parents with the confetti balloons, the pool party, and the whole shebang.”

  The theme was confetti because I’m an enthusiast of all things happy, celebratory, and confetti-infused. Every time I find a little colorful piece of paper tucked in the hem of my skirt, in my hair, or underfoot, I smile. It’s hard to clean up, but it’s totally worth it.

  Chelsea interrupts my recent reminiscing. “Remember we were talking about how senior year is the time to step it up. Maija, now that you’re eighteen, you have a license to be fatal, fierce. What do they say at pep rallies?”

  “Go Hamilton Hippos!” Reggie says.

  “No, the other one.” Chelsea thinks for a moment.

  I don’t know about being fatal or fierce. But she’s right that change is in the air. While lounging in the pool yesterday, we did have a long talk about life.

  I guess I’m the same as I’ve always been with medium brown curly hair, tan skin, and almond-shaped green eyes with golden flecks. I’m medium height, fit, Finnish on my dad’s side, and my mom’s from Jamaica—they met in college during a symposium for Olympic athletes—they’re both sprinters and amazing. I live in the shadow of their golden achievements.

  I’m okay at playing piano and my grades are up there. However, I don’t have Olympic aspirations, a boyfriend, or anything exceptional to include on my college apps. I do not have pink hair. And I’ve never been in love...at least not yet. I’m actually pretty ordinary.

  Chelsea breaks into my lament. “I remember now. At pep rallies, they say, ‘Go big or go home.’” She cheers, shaking imaginary pompoms.

  “I guess, I’ll be going home,” I mumble, half-joking about how average I am.

  “Ha ha, no way, this party is just getting started and this is going to be our best year yet.” Chelsea suggests I get a nose piercing or tattoo.

  Whoever’s playing DJ has a strong reggae game and Chelsea pulls me from my spot in the sand to dance.

  While we groove, her eyes fall on a figure in the distance, but because of the bright contrast of the fire, I can’t see if she’s spotted Logan Nguyen, the guy she’s been texting all summer or someone else.

  “Did you hear about the two brothers?” Chelsea asks, slightly breathless and windswept from the breeze coming off the ocean.

  “Is this the beginning of a joke or are you asking me a question?” I ask as I dance.

  She looks at me sideways. “The Thorne brothers? I thought I spotted one.” She gestures vaguely. “They live in that old house on Skerry Street.”

  “The haunted one?”

  Chelsea laughs. “Yup. Remember when we went trick-or-treating with Keiko, Reggie, Ange, and Aaron?”

  It was our last time getting dressed up and going door-to-door begging for candy.

  “It was a dumb idea, because, duh, no one lived there,” I say.

  “Emphasis on lived,” she says in a spooky voice.

  We both erupt in nervous laughter as the song ends and we return to my post at the S’mores station.

  She says, “Maija, I’ve been hearing rumors about these brothers…” She leans toward the fire so her face takes on an eerie glow. “That they’re descendants of the witches from Salem and that they’re—”

  “Zombies? Because if you say zombies, I’m cutting you off from that show you’ve been binge-watching on Netflix.”

  “No, I didn’t hear that they’re zombies, but that wouldn’t be plausible anyway.”

  “Um, okay. Why not?” I’m confused, but this is typical Chelsea so I go with it.

  “Because I heard the brothers are super-hot and zombies are not.” She giggles.

  “Hot like your marshmallow that was on fire or—?”

  “Hot like—” She juts her chin over my shoulder.

  A guy our age, wearing unusually formal dress and holding a top hat, appears beside the bonfire. Dude, Halloween is almost two months away.

  However, I can’t help but stare at him. When he glances over, I startle and look away.

  His gray eyes.

  Certainly not zombie eyes and not vampire eyes either. Chelsea and I had a major thing for vampires a while back.

  But whoa, eyes that I could get lost in.

  I blink and he’s gone.

  While I was distracted, Keiko commandeered the marshmallow roasting sticks and along with Chelsea and Reggie, prepares S’mores. Or tries to.

  “So why are we at the beach again?” Reggie asks.

  “So we can make S’mores, obviously.”

  “How do you keep the marshmallow from burning?” Reggie fumbles with the chocolate.

  “Or the graham cracker from breaking?” Keiko adds.

  Reggie drops a square of chocolate in the sand. “No!” he says, falling to his knees. “Why do I dislike the beach? Let me count the ways. Sand in the food or in this case, food in the sand. Seagulls pooping on stuff and taking your food, and sand.” He repeats, “Did I mention sand? Sand and food do not mix. The five-second rule does not apply in this situation.”
He holds his hands up in dramatic agony. His partially melted chocolate isn’t salvageable.

  “Let the S’mores master demonstrate,” I say, sliding the perfectly toasted marshmallow off the stick, onto the graham cracker, preloaded with chocolate, and taking one delicious, gooey bite.

  While I make another, Reggie goes on. “Sunburns, bathing suits. Sand in the food—”

  “Yeah, you said as much.” Keiki steals the chocolate.

  “Getting lobbed in the head with a volleyball or Frisbee. Getting sunburned,” he adds.

  I laugh. “Yes, but the sun isn’t out.” I glance up at the starry night sky. I love the beach and everything about it.

  Sparks from the fire flutter toward the sky. I gaze up, up, up. A bittersweet feeling of endings and beginnings fills me half and half. The stars flicker and then one disappears. But I don’t see a shooting star otherwise I’d make a wish.

  I blink my eyes a few times because what I do see, or at least I think so, are the stars rearranging themselves. My mouth drops open. Maybe I had too much sugar.

  Like the airplanes that write love letters in the sky as part of a marriage proposal or congratulations on graduation day, letters form and twinkle.

  After they take shape, I see my name written like a wish among the stars in the sky.

  KEEP READING!

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  Acknowledgments

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