by Lib Starling
Roxy finally succeeded in pulling the woolen fabric away from her face, though it still clung to her body. She blinked in stunned disbelief, staring around her. Shoes – shoes and ankles ringed her like a corral, moving in a restless dance of shifting weight, of barely-controlled eagerness.
I’m down on the floor. Why?
That flash of white light – had somebody hit her over the head, and then thrown a blanket over her as she fell? But why? Roxy tried to reach up to touch the back of her head, testing for tenderness from a blow – but her arm felt awkward, too straight and thin, and she couldn’t make it reach behind her ear.
She continued struggling with the blanket and rolled as she fought, staring up at Scarlett. The dark-haired girl stared back, eyes wide with an expression that was half disbelief, and half satisfaction, a confirmation of a suspicion long held.
Fuck you, Roxy tried to spit, burning with humiliation over her helpless thrashing. But only a wordless growl emerged from her throat, a high-pitched snarl of rage.
“Get away,” a familiar voice bellowed. “Nobody touch her – I swear to God I’ll fight every one of you if you lay a hand on her!”
Darien shoved through the crowd. He bent to Roxy, and his arms seemed to encompass her entire body as easily as if she were a tiny child or a toy figurine.
I’m on drugs, she thought frantically as Darien pulled her free of the heavy blanket and lifted her from the ground. Somebody put something in my drink.
Then she remembered that she hadn’t had anything to drink, and she screamed as Darien cradled her – her entire body – protectively against his chest.
But the only sound she heard, the sound she felt ripping from her throat, was an ululating, animalistic wail.
Darien turned, and Roxy peered out from his shielding embrace. The brothers of Alpha House circled, their teeth bared and their eyes alight with desire that burned beyond the realm of mere flames. Their lust was a conflagration. They clutched at one another, snarling in each other’s faces, shouting threats and claims on Roxy as Darien tried to push through the surging press of male bodies.
Roxy gasped and stared down at the floor. It wasn’t a blanket that had fallen over her body, but her sweater. It still lay there, rumpled and torn from her struggle among its folds. Her jeans and shoes had fallen nearby.
She could hear Brooke calling for her, resisting Alexander’s attempts to herd her out of the house with the other girls. As Brooke was shoved protesting toward the door, it flung inward with a crash, and a dark figure filled the doorway.
“Out,” Alexander shouted.
“Fuck you. Where is Roxy?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Brooke cried. She clung to Chase’s arm like a shield, and together they faced Alexander.
Roxy felt Darien’s shout reverberate through his chest, trembling her bones. “Here, Chase!”
Chase shook Brooke off his arm and bounded into the crowd, flashing fists and teeth at the brothers who confronted him, fighting his way to Darien’s side. He bent to stare into Roxy’s face, and his dark eyes were wide with wonder and relief.
“Roxy. Thank God you’re okay.”
She tried to answer, but it was Darien who spoke. “We don’t know that yet. Help me get her upstairs!”
Together they fought their way to the staircase, and Darien rushed up, still carrying Roxy while Chase remained at the foot of the stairs, keeping the fraternity at bay.
Darien pelted down the hallway, dodged into his room, and slammed the door. A second later he locked it, then set Roxy gently on the bed.
She huddled against his pillows in fear. Her body felt too small, tiny against the vastness of Darien’s bed.
Darien approached slowly. He sat on the bedside her and watched her for a moment in silence, his face pale with worry. “I told you,” he said gently.
Roxy shook her head at him. Words had long since failed her.
He reached into his pocket. “I picked this up from the floor.” Darien drew out her necklace and laid it on the bed, then looked again at Roxy with a curious intensity.
She held his earnest, fearful stare for a moment, then reached for the gold chain. Again her arm felt stiff and awkward, and Roxy glanced down in annoyance.
It was not her hand that lay over the medallion, but a small, slender, long-toed paw. She stared in shock, taking in the silver-and-black grizzle of fur, the sharp obsidian nails, and the coppery red pelt of her thin, graceful forearm. Then she cried out and jerked her hand away.
Darien stood and moved toward his closet. “You have to accept it, Roxy. If you don’t accept what you are, then I can’t help you – I can’t get you back. Please try. Try to believe what I tell you. And try to understand that this is real.”
He swung the closet door open, revealing a full-length mirror on the other side. The light from his lamp flashed on the surface as the mirror moved, but when it came to rest it reflected Darien’s bed – and what huddled on top of it.
Where Roxy should be – where she was, where she could feel herself sitting – the small, shivering, graceful form of a red fox looked back at her. Green eyes blinked frantically in its black mask, and its copper-furred sides heaved with her rapid breath. Roxy gave a shudder, and the fox shuddered, too, from its dark, pointed snout to the white-tipped end of its brushy tail.
Darien sank slowly to his knees, leaning across the bed, reaching for Roxy. His hand stroked the top of her head, soothing her.
“You have to concentrate, Roxy. I’m going to talk you through a shift. I know you’ve never done it before tonight, but you have to listen to what I say, and try. Will you do that? Will you try your best, and stay calm, and remember that you’re Roxanne… and my friend?”
Roxy stared into the mirror as she answered. She watched the fox’s reflection as it nodded once.
And then she closed her eyes.
.7.
A s Darien turned away, carrying the delicate red fox up the stairs toward the safety of his room, Chase felt fierce, wild claws tearing at his soul. Roxy was even more beautiful in her totemic form than her human form – something Chase never would have believed possible. And he knew with a rush of pain and certainty that he loved her, as he had never loved any woman before.
Staring into the fox’s bright green eyes, Chase had at last seen Roxy as her most essential, truest self. In that moment he saw, too, that he was not worthy of her love. He had wounded the heart of this beautiful creature, and though he would do anything to make it right, still he would never again deserve her trust or affection.
Ensuring her safety while Darien tried to talk her through a shift was the best he could offer now. And so he stood at the foot of the stairs, snarling, warning his brothers back as they milled and surged around him.
Each brother was gripped, Chase knew, by a desire to mate with the only female they’d ever seen shift – the rarest and most precious prize they’d ever known. The walls of Alpha House shook with the energy that flowed from man to man, the crackling twin tensions of unquenchable lust and the lure of the full moon.
Suddenly Alexander was there, thrusting between combatants as they squared off with hurled insults and thrown punches. The leader of the frat forced some shaky semblance of control over the crowd just by cool presence.
Alexander made his way through the crowd to the foot of the stairs. But when he came up against Chase he stood panting, and his blue eyes barely concealed his wild desperation. At close range, Chase saw that there was nothing cool or mastered about Alexander now.
“Stand aside,” Alexander grated.
“No.”
“She’s mine.”
“She’s not,” Chase spat. He wanted to declare Roxy his own. The wolf inside demanded that Chase stake his claim and defend it, but his human side knew he had no right to her heart, if he ever had before. He’d hurt her, and she would never forgive him.
But at least he could keep her safe.
“You’ve already had your
chance with Roxy,” he told Alexander coldly. “And you fucked it up. You don’t deserve to look at her, let alone touch her. So back off.”
Alexander’s snarl was more lupine than human. He lunged toward Chase, his fierce eyes boring into Chase’s own, his breath huffing hot against Chase’s face. “I’ll fight you. I’ll fight every last one of you.”
As Alexander’s grip on his own steely emotions slipped further, the brothers spun ever more out of control. Chase felt a thump of noiseless vibration in his chest – the disturbance that signified a shift nearby. He never took his eyes off Alexander’s icy stare, but in the corner of his vision an animal shape slunk among the human bodies, stalking and tense. Chase couldn’t tell who it was.
The dull thud of another shift from the crowd – moments later, the snarl of two animals tangling in bloody warfare rose above the sound of the brothers’ harsh breathing and strangled words.
Brother fighting brother – exactly what Alpha House didn’t need. And that was to say nothing of the town girls that still milled in the yard, who might catch sight of a shifter in his totem form at any moment.
I have to get this situation under control, Chase thought frantically as Alexander continued to snarl in his face. Our leader isn’t leading – he’s too consumed by lust to think.
And then the answer to the quandary struck Chase like a blow to the gut.
Then Alexander is no leader… and he’ll have to be replaced.
Chase knew if he fought Alexander and won, then he would be the new alpha of Alpha Delta Phi. Leadership of the brotherhood would be his responsibility, and he would never be free of Blackmeade.
But if he left this scene to play along its present course, they would all be in danger – the University with its generations of secrets, the brothers who teetered on the edge of violence, and especially Roxy.
That, Chase couldn’t accept.
With a calculated shove, he pushed Alexander away from him. “If you want to fight somebody, fight me.”
Alexander’s look of shock lasted only an instant. He came back at Chase with fists doubled, and Chase ducked his swing as he dodged toward the center of the room, luring Alexander away from the stairs.
The fury of their alpha infected the rest of the brotherhood. They broke off their own confrontations and formed a circle, shouting insults at Chase and encouragement to Alexander.
“I’ll take you apart,” Alexander promised with icy calm as he settled into the reality of the fight. He moved easily on the balls of his feet, ready to intercept any dodge or jab.
Chase circled, pushing the crowd further from the staircase, keeping Alexander and the brothers focused on the fight instead of on the fox hiding vulnerable upstairs.
“You can’t stand it, can you,” Chase taunted, “that I had her. That she chose me instead of you.”
Alexander roared and lunged, his teeth bared in fury. Chase slid away and turned to meet another attack, his wolf calm and observant inside.
“I’ll teach you a lesson, you arrogant prick,” Alexander promised.
In one quick motion he gripped his stay medallion and pulled it over his head, then flung it into the crowd. The men howled their approval. Alexander didn’t bother to undress; his clothing ripped apart with a tearing roar as he transformed, and there in the center of the room, surrounded by the shouting, rallying brotherhood and the shreds of his once-fine clothes, stood Alexander’s totem: a huge, white wolf with pale blue eyes. He snarled silently at Chase, crouching, ready to spring.
Chase had no time to undress. He, too, slipped his stay free and kicked it against the wall, then allowed his totem to come roaring through his spirit. There was a brief flash of pain as his clothing held against his shifting body, then the ripping sound of his jeans and shirt turning to useless rags. His gray-black wolf dropped and rolled aside just as Alexander flung himself across the ring, jaws closing where a moment before Chase’s throat had been.
Chase spun and sank his teeth in Alexander’s haunch. The feel of fur and flesh giving beneath the power of his jaws riled Chase’s totem, and he shook his head, reveling in the hot taste of blood. Alexander twisted free; his superior weight knocked Chase sprawling. A moment later Chase’s shoulder burned with pain as the white wolf’s jaws closed. He kicked Alexander away, and the white wolf glared at him, his muzzle a mask of red.
I’ll have everything you had. The white wolf’s thoughts reached into the gray’s mind, stirring Chase’s fury. I’ll have whatever she gave you, and more.
Is that what you said when you tried to force her? the gray wolf returned viciously. Then he closed with Alexander again, snapping, growling, thrusting his furious, thrashing weight against his opponent as they reared onto their hind legs to wrap their forelimbs about each other’s shoulders in a deadly embrace.
Chase lunged for Alexander’s throat, but his teeth closed only on white fur. Alexander leaped and spun, his full weight coming down on Chase’s hind end. His hocks went out from under him and he sprawled and scrabbled on the floor. Alexander loomed over him in triumph, blood and saliva dripping from his mouth – but Chase snaked his head to the side, clamping his teeth on Alexander’s foreleg. The white wolf retreated, holding up his injured paw.
Chase pursued. The brothers drew back as Alexander first evaded Chase with grace and icy calm, but as Chase dealt the alpha blow after blow, bite after bite, Alexander’s retreat looked more like a panicked flight. Finally the circle of brothers broke and Chase backed his opponent against the wall, where Alexander hackled, snarling.
I should kill you for this, the white wolf said.
Try it.
I won’t let you have her.
The gray wolf made no reply, save for the powerful lunge that brought him at last to Alexander’s throat. His teeth closed. Alexander’s limbs trembled and he sagged in Chase’s grip; the gray wolf dragged his foe triumphantly across the floor, his snarl of power and victory muffled in the ruff of snowy fur.
The brothers looked on in horror as their alpha succumbed. But before Chase could demand Alexander’s submission, a few of the men gasped and murmured, looking up from the fight.
Chase followed their stares. Darien stood on the lowest step, his arm supporting Roxy, who was trembling and pale, obviously weakened by her ordeal – but human again, and apparently unharmed. She was barefoot, dressed in Darien’s old sweat pants and one of his loose t-shirts, and her hair was disheveled, the red-gold curls wild about her face.
She stared down at the fight in horror.
Chase dropped Alexander on the floor. The white wolf panted a moment, then struggled to its feet. They stood side by side, watching as Roxy took in the sight of them.
She seemed to realize at once why they were fighting. Her green eyes narrowed, and she glared at Chase, at Alexander, then the fury of her stare swept the entire room, and Chase could sense the brothers drawing back from her anger.
“Listen, you selfish assholes,” Roxy shouted. “You don’t get to fight for me like I’m some piece of meat. I get to choose who I date, who I spend time with, what I do with whom, and…” she glanced at Darien, who nodded subtly, “…and who will be my mate. None of you gets a say. Get that through your oversexed brains, because I’m never going to say it again!”
Beside Chase’s gray wolf, Alexander went very still.
“You’ve all been horrible to me,” Roxy went on. “All of you except for Darien. Not one of you knows how to treat a woman – typical selfish, entitled, clueless frat boys. You should all be ashamed of yourselves.”
She stepped down into the living room and gathered her clothing from the floor. It was stained with the blood of the fight, rumpled and torn. Roxy came toward Chase, clutching her belongings against her chest. She stood there for a long moment, her breath coming hard as she glowered at him. A ripple of emotion passed across her face, pain and longing and the anger of betrayal. But then she was in control again, and her brows knit into a frown.
“You should all
be ashamed of yourselves,” she said again. Her voice was low, quiet with certainty. “And I never want to see any of you again.”
It was clear from the hurt echoing through her voice that Roxy still believed Chase wanted Scarlett. He commanded his wolf to retreat, and the totem, startled by Roxy’s vehemence, was quick enough to obey. But although it tried, the wolf couldn’t budge. Chase remained helplessly shifted, crouching on the floor beside Alexander.
Wait, he tried to call out. You don’t understand. I love you, Roxy!
But as Roxy shoved through the crowd with Darien at her side, as she stepped out of Alpha House forever, the only sound Chase could make was a desolate, mournful howl.
His totem gasped and struggled, trying to retreat, and his human spirit fought to return to its rightful place. He counseled himself to patience, insisted that he should not panic, even as Alexander shifted back, as the other brothers crowded around Chase, aware now that something was terribly wrong.
At last, with one last monumental effort, he made the transition in a blast of pain and blinding light. He lay gasping and shuddering on the floor while Jack tossed a blanket over his naked body. Chase gathered the blanket around his shoulders and sat up slowly. The difficulty of his shift left him weak, and his eyes darted around the room in fear.
A pale shadow bent over him. Chase looked up to see Alexander, dressed again in fresh clothing, watching him with emotionless interest.
Though he wanted to cry out for Roxy, Chase marshalled his calm and stood.
“I can’t find your stay,” Jack muttered to Chase. “Where did you put it?”
In that moment, Chase knew. “It’s no good looking for it.” He turned to Alexander. “Where’s Scarlett?”
“I don’t know.”
“We have to find her. Now. The witch took my stay!”
.8.
T he brothers searched for days. In groups of three and four they ranged across the foothills and delved into the mountains, hunting for any trace of the witch’s presence. They moved in their human and totemic forms, pooling the gifts nature had given them, but none could locate so much as a whiff of Scarlett to determine where she had gone.