Amara loved Nova. Truly, she did. She had never been so sure of one feeling in her entire life. He was everything she’d ever wanted. And the best part was, he loved her back. Of that, she had no doubt. His mother? Yeah. Not so much.
Amara fought to control her nerves as Nova drove his truck through the gate and down the road toward their community square. The meeting hall was right in the middle of the compound and reminded her more of a Native American longhouse than any building she would find in Strathford. Though the structure was made from large wooden logs, the wall panels were constructed with thick, tightly woven grasses and overlapped to form a barrier against the outside elements. Already, she could see smoke rising from the hole in the center of the building. They must have had a fire going. Amara couldn’t help but feel grateful. It was heading toward winter and they were once again calling for snow.
An icy chill bit into Amara’s cheeks as she disembarked from the truck. Breathing into her gloved hands, she tried to warm her face.
Nova came around the front of the vehicle and offered her a consoling smile. “Don’t be nervous.”
“I’m not nervous,” she replied automatically. Nova simply lifted an eyebrow in question. Amara huffed out an irritated breath. “Okay, so maybe I am a little nervous. Can you blame me? I’ve never been to one of these before. And it’s not like I’m going to be welcomed with open arms.”
He frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, come on, Nova. I’m a human. An outsider. And people haven’t exactly been shy about not wanting me here.”
“People love having you here.”
“Some people,” she conceded. Then she shook her head. “Not all. They think it goes against Pack Law. And from what I’ve heard, they think you and Nemoy are weak for not disposing of me in the first place. So, there’s that.”
Confusion washed over his face, followed by a hardened determination to make it better. While she appreciated the sentiment, she really didn’t need her boyfriend running off to chastise half his family. Even if he was cute when he was in protective mode. “Who thinks that?”
Amara shook her head, defeated. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just go in. They’re expecting us.”
“Amara.”
She fidgeted. She had no desire to admit to him that she was afraid of his mother, but he deserved the truth, and she wasn’t about to lie to him. “Fine. There’s a small group of people who have been trying to persuade the others that I should be kicked out at the very least. Over the past week, they seem to have gained a decent following.”
“How do you know this?”
She smirked. “Seriously? I pay attention. I’m a bartender, Nova. It’s my job to notice the details, overhear conversations, get what they need before they tell me they need it. I’m a professional fly on the wall. And I’m smart. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together once I knew what whispers were floating around behind closed doors. Ivanah,” she answered before he could ask. “She told me Neveah has been trying to convince Nemoy to get rid of me. She’s been pushing pretty hard the last few days, and anytime you and Nemoy are out on patrol, Neveah takes advantage of your absence and her protests get pretty vocal.”
Pausing, she watched him stumble through what she had just said. That not only was a portion of his pack calling for her head, but they were being led by his own mother. It was more than any son should have to handle in the morning before having his coffee. But whatever he was feeling on the matter, in true Nova fashion, he squashed it, burying it deep beneath the responsibility and bravado he often used as a shield.
“Don’t worry,” he told her. “I’ll take care of it.” Nova took her hand. Before she could say anything more, he led her toward the longhouse. Lifting the heavy flap made of animal hide, he held it open to let her pass beneath his arm.
Chapter 5
Amara had never seen anything like it. The place was full. Every spare seat in the hall was occupied by a member of the pack. The walls were adorned every ten feet or so by the logs from the structural foundation of the building, and the ceiling was a maze of exposed beams. It was beautiful.
In the center of the floor was a large stone fire pit. The flames were already rising at least two feet above the surrounding stone. Even from where she was standing by the door, Amara could feel the heat. It was no wonder those closest to the fire were dressed as if for summer weather. It was blistering hot in there.
“We cannot just stand by and let them terrorize us or our territory,” a man Amara knew by sight alone was saying. His hands were clenched in tight fists resting on the table in front of him, and his dark hair was swept back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. Though she wasn’t sure of his name—Isaac? Isiah? She couldn’t remember—she had seen him multiple times in the past two weeks, always in the company of none other than Neveah.
Sure enough, about two people to his left, there she stood. Neveah was stunning. She was tall and willowy with a regal grace that both captivated and intimidated whoever was foolish enough to look upon her. Her high cheekbones were accentuated by her rich, brown eyes in the shape of almonds, and her elegant face was framed by her sheet of long, billowing dark gray hair. The streaks of shiny silver only managed to add to her allure rather than detract from it. Even if Amara hadn’t known Neveah to be the widow of the last Alpha, and in all effectiveness, the Queen Mother, she still would have struck her as royalty, just from the way she carried herself. Neveah had a regal air that no one could deny—no matter how much they may have wanted to.
“It wasn’t just a human the Valley Clan attacked last night,” the man continued. He was glaring at someone at the head of the meeting house. Amara followed his gaze to find Nemoy seated in a chair she would call a large, wooden throne with Ivanah by his side. Her belly was swollen with child beneath her jacket. Amara couldn’t help but envy her happiness. Although, right then, neither Nemoy nor Ivanah appeared to be too thrilled. “That human was part of our territory, and ours to protect.”
Nemoy gazed at the man. “And what would you have me do, Isiah?” he asked. His tone was dangerously calm. Amara’s arms trembled a bit as goosebumps popped out on her flesh beneath the fabric of her coat. She wasn’t sure why what Isiah was saying had that effect on Nemoy, but she knew she never wanted to be on the receiving end of that tone. Even with Nova’s protection, she doubted she’d last long if she ever was.
Isiah pounded his fists on the surface of the table he stood behind. “We need to go to war! You must see that, Nemoy. War is the only way to keep us safe.”
“War would decimate us,” a middle-aged woman with long black hair said across the circle. If Amara recalled correctly, her name was Naida. “After the last invasion, here in the compound, there aren’t enough of us left to go to war with the Valley Clan head-on. You would be sentencing us to death.”
Isiah shook his head. “It is the only option.”
Cheers and calls of agreement rose into the air, followed by the erratic pulse of stomping feet. The sound hurt Amara’s ears.
Nemoy, on the other hand, merely sat in his chair, soundlessly staring at the crowd. His face and his entire body were rigid as stone. Nemoy raised a hand and his people gradually quieted, though not without protest. He gazed steadily at his mother and Isiah. His expression was unreadable. “War in the current situation is out of the question. Our numbers are too few, and the Valley Clan risks exposure where our pack dares not.”
Protests and shouted arguments rose again, bringing the noise volume to a deafening roar. Amara resisted covering her ears. She was already pressing her luck just by being there. There was no need to look weak on top of everything else.
Furious, Nova stepped forward. Men and women alike moved aside to let him through. “Silence!” His voice boomed throughout the room, and everyone stopped talking immediately. “Your Alpha has spoken,” he reminded them. He began to pace the perimeter of the room, his own way of repelling negative energy, Amara knew. And it must have w
orked. His every step exuded power.
Amara reminded herself to jump his bones later. That whole authoritarian demeanor was seriously hot. Not to mention oh, so sexy. She couldn’t wait to get him alone later.
Nova stopped right in front of Neveah. Next to her, Isiah straightened his stance. “How dare you,” Nova growled. His mother’s eyes narrowed. “How dare you question your Alpha? Whether you agree with him or not, his word is Law, and it will be followed. Is that understood?”
“Watch yourself, boy,” Isiah hissed. Neveah remained silent. Stepping forward, Nova smirked. He and Isiah were nose to nose. Nova was a few inches taller, so Isiah had to tilt his chin to meet Nova’s gaze. “It is not me who needs to watch myself, Isiah Levens. I am the Beta of this Clan, second only to our Alpha. Neither your rank nor your strength give you leave to cross me. You will obey.” Nova took a step back and arrogantly spread his arms. A sly, deadly smile crept across his lips. Amara saw Isiah’s shoulders tremble. “Of course,” Nova continued, an obvious taunt in his words, “you’re welcome to challenge me the old-fashioned way. Would you like to fight me to be the new Beta, Isiah? It is a fight to the death. And no one has beat me yet.”
“Leave him be,” Neveah commanded. Her voice was soft, but she was seething.
Across the room, Nemoy stood. “No. He brought this on himself. Isiah will answer the questions of his Beta.” Though it clearly pained her, Neveah nodded and fell quiet. Nemoy nodded curtly. “Do you challenge Nova, Isiah Levens?” Nemoy asked. “Or perhaps, have you spoken out of turn?”
No one spoke. No one even breathed. All eyes were glued to the confrontation between the men. The tension was palpable.
Isiah mumbled something under his breath. Nova cocked his head. “I’m sorry? I didn’t catch that.”
With a glare, Isiah straightened his shoulders. “No,” he repeated. “No, I do not wish to challenge my Beta for position.”
Satisfied, Nova nodded, once more giving the other man his space. He turned his back to face Nemoy. Isiah’s chest visibly contracted with relief “In that case, Alpha, I have to say that I agree with the call for war. However, before we declare, I recommend we contact the Falls Clan to discuss an alliance. It is my understanding that they are also encountering border skirmishes with the Valley Clan.”
Pursing his lips, Nemoy considered. Amara knew nothing about war, but common sense said Nova made a good point. Finally, Nemoy nodded. “Done. Any other business to discuss before we adjourn?”
Neveah stepped forward. “I am Neveah of the Mountain Clan, mother to the reigning Alpha and Beta. And I have a grievance.”
A line dug in between Nemoy’s brows, but he nodded. “State your grievance.”
“The presence of the human within our pack walls and within our Council meetings is forbidden by Pack Law. I move she be disposed of immediately.”
A murmur buzzed through the crowd and Amara felt fear and trepidation ripple down her spine. Nova’s face flushed with anger. But before he could speak, Nemoy stood once more. The look on his face was beyond anger. Amara flinched. Even Neveah cowered some. “This matter has already been decided,” he stated sternly. “The human is welcome until I say otherwise. I will not hear of it again.” Nemoy took a deep breath, as if settling his nerves. “This meeting of Mountain Clan Wolf Pack’s High Council is adjourned. Everybody out.”
Nova followed his mother out of the longhouse and grabbed her arm, whipping her around. “What right do you have to grandstand like that?” he demanded. “If you have something to say about Amara being here, you say it to me.”
Neveah glared up at her son, not a hint of remorse in her eyes. “She is human,” she replied. Her tone brooked no argument. “She does not belong here. She is not Wolf.”
“Maybe not, but she still needs our protection,” Nova countered. Amara could tell by the way his muscles were contracting that he was livid. And more than a little hurt. Maybe she should have warned him sooner about his mother’s disposition, but truly, she wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed already. Neveah hadn’t tried to hide her feelings towards her since the first time she stepped foot within the compound.
“Then I suggest she seek it in the town of Strathford with the other humans, where she belongs.” With that, Neveah turned on her heel and strode away, her regal head held high. Isiah was waiting for her. He eyed Nova and Amara with severe dislike before following Neveah out of sight.
Nova was shaking. At a loss, Amara reached out and put a hand on his arm in an attempt to comfort him. It wasn’t working.
“I’ve changed my mind,” he said abruptly, taking her hand. “It’s better for you to be in town. At least for today. Let’s go.”
Amara swallowed hard. He had just done a complete one-eighty and locked every single one of his emotions away. If she were being honest, that right there scared her more than Kal and his pack ever could.
Chapter 6
Amara walked quietly down the hall at the hospital, her soft-soled shoes making virtually no noise. She hated hospitals; hated everything about them. The bright whites and the pastel colors, the fluorescent lighting, the sickly sterile smell that was supposed to be a cover for the dead and the dying. It was all awful.
Every time she stepped foot in this building—set foot in this wing—she had horrible flashbacks.
She was twelve years old, crying at her father’s bedside as the nurses turned off his life support system and the machines breathed in and out for him one last time, her mom and sister behind her. She felt his lifeless fingers go limp in her hand.
She was fifteen years old, lying flat on her back. This time it was her in the hospital bed, not her father. There were tubes everywhere; in her nose, her throat, her wrists. Her clavicle had been broken, the skin torn open by the wolf’s teeth when he attacked her. She would have a nice, ugly scar. The bone had snapped in two, leaving the flesh shredded on top of it. She could feel the stitches stretch and pull each time she breathed.
She was twenty-three, sitting in the chair across from her grandfather’s bed. The cancer had been eating away at him for the last two years, and his medications had finally stopped working. And then the pain had gotten to be too much. The night before, after telling her one last story about the legendary men who could turn into beasts, he had slipped into a coma. The doctors said he would never wake up.
Over the years, she had been in that same hospital walking those same halls countless times to visit friends and family members that had fallen victim to the wolves. Her best friend, Becca, had been in and out of hospital care since they were teenagers due to complications from the attack; out of the three girls Kal went after that night, Becca had suffered the most. Still, even Zoe had been a patient. The doctors claimed she suffered from PTSD, a side effect of the trauma. Granted, at those times, her injuries were alcohol induced and self-inflicted.
Now she was there for Donny. She didn’t know him that well, but he was a regular at Murphy’s Tavern, and his youngest brother, Carl, had been in her grade at school.
Reaching his room, Amara knocked lightly before pushing open his door. The small space was full. The entire Jones family had taken up residence on the available tables, chairs, and couches the hospital room had to offer.
When she entered, Clarence rose from his seat near the window and rushed to greet her. He wrapped her in a hug, encasing her in the stench of beer, sweat, and cigarettes. Amara felt her stomach turn but forced the feeling to subside. As questionable as his personal hygiene might be, Clarence was a sweet man, and right then, he was worried about his brother.
“Oh, Amara, it’s so nice of you to make it. Donny would have loved to see you. He wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you, you know. He owes you his life. We all do.”
Amara’s eyes widened. “No, no you don’t owe me anything.”
“You saved his life!”
She shifted uncomfortably. It was true that she had chased the wolf off, even shot him with her gun, but she was beginning to
feel guilty that she was condemning one wolf clan while siding with another. Hadn’t all the wolves been using her town as if it were a battleground? Strathford was supposed to be Mountain Clan territory, but the Valley Clan had been using its streets and its people to get the biggest reaction from their rivals. Amara’s town, the humans, they were just collateral damage. Hadn’t Neveah’s and Isiah’s reactions proved how little human life actually meant to them? She should be disposed of immediately. Isn’t that what Nova’s own mother had said? How could she claim to have saved Donny’s life when she was sleeping with one of the people who had put his life at risk in the first place? And now, if they brought wolves in from the Falls Clan, there would be even more potential enemies to worry about.
It almost made her worry about Sadie and Kal seem trivial. Almost.
Amara forced a smile. “It was the least I could do, Clarence,” she told him. She didn’t have to make a moral decision right then. No, what she had to do right at that moment was give the Joneses what they really needed, and that was a sense of safety and comfort. “I’m glad he’s safe now. How’s he doing?”
Next to the bed, his mother, Julia, shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. She was a widower, and the mother of four strong boys. They all lived and worked on their family farm. Julia was a kind woman and friends with Amara’s mother. She’d lost her husband when the boys were little. It didn’t seem right that she should lose another loved one to the same enemy.
Carl rose from the couch. He was a tall man, and burly, with a thick mop of golden brown hair, rounded cheeks, and kind, blue eyes. They’d been friends since they were children. He’d even been her date to the Winter Formal their freshman year in high school. For a while, she thought he’d even leave town to go to college. But then the attacks got more and more frequent, and he’d been too afraid for his family to leave them short-handed on the farm.
Amara reached out a hand and patted his arm. “They said making it through the night was a good sign,” Carl told her quietly, careful not to let his mother overhear. “But since early this morning, there’s been no change. The good thing is that he still has brain activity. They’re hopeful that if his body can heal fast enough, he’ll make a decent recovery.” Carl furrowed a worried brow and lowered his voice. Amara had to lean in to hear him. “But right now, we’ll just be lucky if he makes it another night.
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