by Lib Starling
Roxy nodded. “It was horrible. No wonder their frat is breaking up over it. I hope I never feel anything like that again.”
“So that was Scarlett I saw out there.”
“It must have been.”
Brooke hugged her tight again. “Let’s pay our check and get out of here. We need to tell Darien what happened.”
.9.
W hen they arrived at the blue house, Darien was gone.
Brooke looked at her watch and frowned. “He’s at Blackmeade. I forgot; he told me he had a study group out there… some big test he’s worried about passing.”
“He must be at Alpha House, then.”
“I’ll drive.”
But Roxy restrained Brooke with a hand on her wrist as she reached for her purse. “No, I’ll be all right.”
“Are you sure? What if you… what if this happens again while you’re driving?”
“It won’t.”
“You can’t know that for sure, Roxy.”
“I felt Scarlett’s attack before it happened – before I shifted. I know what that feeling means now. If anything like it occurs while I’m on the road, I’ll pull over…”
“Immediately.”
“Immediately,” Roxy promised. She shrugged helplessly, shaking her head. “I just feel like I need to be alone for a while. It’s nothing against you.”
“I understand. Just promise me you’ll be extra-extra careful.”
“Extra super-double-dip careful. I’ll text you when I get to Alpha House, and when I leave, and if anything happens along the way I’ll call you.”
Brooke took a deep breath. She cast a longing look at her purse and the car keys, side by side on the table near the door. But finally she nodded. “Okay. And while you’re at Alpha House, I’m going back into town to look for Scarlett.”
“Don’t talk to her. Don’t even go near her.”
“I won’t. I’ll just try to find out where she’s been hiding.”
The drive out along the isolated highway seemed to take hours. Roxy’s snow tires grated and spun as she left the highway and crept onto the long gravel road, the pale gray path leading over the snowy ridge and down into the bowl of Blackmeade Village. The road seemed to stretch interminably, climbing the foothills but never reaching the crest. Roxy rehearsed what she’d say as she gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckled fists. She tried to imagine how the boys would react to the knowledge that Scarlett was back, and that she hadn’t abandoned her shift-forcing tactics.
Maybe, she thought desperately, maybe Darien is studying ways to stop a witch. Or ways to block her magic. But she knew it was too much to hope for. All Roxy could do as the Jeep ascended the frost-slicked road was to choke out a bitter laugh at her own childish wish.
Blackmeade Village was silent and still as she passed through its wide, sage-lined streets. She parked outside the Alpha House yard, an expanse of muddy footprints and desultory crusts of snow, and sent her text to Brooke. But before she could even exit the Jeep, the house’s door swung wide and Alexander’s pale shape filled the dark doorway.
Roxy picked her way carefully across the yard. All but the worst of the mud was frozen, so her boots didn’t sink into the muck, but it was slow going over the rough terrain. By the time she reached Alexander, her face was flushed with the effort and with the urgency of her message.
He noted her agitation before she even said a word. “What happened?” he demanded, growing tense and serious as only a wolf could.
Roxy panted out a single word, her voice scarcely raising above a whisper. “Scarlett.”
Alexander stepped back, ushering her into the house. The door shut firmly behind her and he lifted his fist as if to pound it in vicious denial. But he took control of his emotions and only tapped the heel of his fist lightly against the door, his mouth pressed into a tight, thin line. “Damn it.”
“I’d hoped she was gone for good.”
“So had we.” He straightened and took her coat, hanging it carefully on one of the mismatched hooks in the hall. “Come in.”
Several of the fraternity brothers were gathered in the living room, poring over books or with faces lit by the blue glow of their tablets. They greeted Roxy, but Alexander waved at them curtly and they returned to their studies.
“Upstairs,” he said quietly. “We should talk about this privately first.”
She followed him into the upper hall, but hesitated on the threshold of his door. Alexander watched her mildly. He wouldn’t rebuke her for her wariness, she knew. His contrition was real. Wasn’t it time, she reasoned, that she gave him more of her trust? Besides, they both had bigger things to fear right now than Alexander’s prior lapse of control. Roxy lifted her chin and strode into his bedroom.
It was neat and orderly, a fact that did not surprise her. The bed was carefully made, the dresser tidy with all its drawers closed (something which couldn’t always be said of Roxy’s dresser), and the floor was free from the typical clutter one might find in a frat house: dirty socks and discarded underwear, stained shirts and wads of paper. A framed painting hung on the wall, a beach scene, decidedly East-coast in feel, calling to mind the warmth of summer. On the bedside table, a small frame held a photo of Alexander, a few years younger, standing with his arms around several fair-haired kids who could only be his siblings. It startled Roxy. She’d never thought of Alexander as the sentimental type. This evidence of close family bonds seemed so much at odds with his alpha personality.
She looked up again at the beach painting.
“Do you like it?” Alexander asked.
“It’s nice.”
“My little sister painted it when she was just fifteen. She’s got some real talent. One day she’ll be a great artist.”
Roxy smiled at the obvious pride in his voice, but the smile faded as she sat on Alexander’s bed.
“Tell me what happened,” he said. He pulled an office chair away from his desk and sat, resting his elbows on his knees. He watched Roxy with concern a she spoke.
“Brooke and I were in town having lunch. She thought she saw Scarlett in the crowd – just a bunch of skiers, really – and before we could find out whether it was really Scarlett, I… I had a forced shift.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I could tell something was wrong right away, and Brooke hustled me into the bathroom. But it was scary; it felt awful. Suffocating.”
“What did you do? Did anybody see?”
“No – nobody but Brooke, and I already told her I’m a shifter.”
Alexander sat back, wariness and disappointment obvious on his angular face.
“It’s okay,” Roxy said quickly. “She’s trustworthy. I’d stake my life on that.”
“You can’t be too careful, Roxy.”
She clenched her teeth, suddenly angry. “That’s easy for you to say. You have an entire village full of peers who know what it’s like to be a shifter, but I have only you and Darien.”
Something in Alexander’s expression softened, but it wasn’t sympathy for Roxy’s isolation. She frowned, trying to decide what had put that nearly-happy look on his face. You and Darien. So Alexander was pleased to be counted a friend.
Well, he was a friend now, in spite of their rocky beginning. Roxy wouldn’t try to make him feel otherwise – it would be dishonest. She had much to thank Alexander for.
“It was your lessons in rapid shifting that saved me,” she said. The anger had drained away, and she smiled at Alexander with real gratitude. “I remembered everything you taught me, and I was able to shift back just as soon as the change happened.”
He sighed with relief. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”
“Only Brooke saw, and just for half a second.”
“But you’re sure it was Scarlett?”
“I’m not sure yet. I suppose we can’t be positive unless we can find her. Brooke might have made a mistake, and I’m still a new shifter…”
“Not so new that you’d have a
n uncontrolled shift with your stay in place. You were wearing your stay?”
“Of course.”
Alexander shook his head. “It’s troubling. As much as I want to believe she’s gone for good, this sounds like Scarlett’s doing.”
Roxy dropped her head into her hands. “I don’t understand. Why is she after me? What did I do to her, to make her hate me so much?”
“You know,” Alexander said gently. “It’s not what you did, or didn’t do. It’s what you are. She’s envious, and apparently envy will lead her to do just about anything.”
“I used to consider her a friend. That’s what hurts the most.”
“I know.”
The deep sympathy in his voice made Roxy look up. Alexander’s eyes were truly pained, creased at the corners with worry – for her. In the face of such inviting concern, Roxy felt her tough, no-nonsense exterior melting. Suddenly it seemed like she needed to pour out all her fears and hurts into Alexander’s hands, like the pain inside her had built for too long and must be expressed or she would burst from the pressure.
“Oh, Alexander, I don’t know what to do.” Tears quavered her voice. “All of this is still so new to me, and I don’t know how to handle it.”
“Shifting?” He carried a box of tissues from his computer desk and sat beside her, holding the box while she ripped out a few and dabbed at her face.
“Not just that. It’s not so much the shifting that made Scarlett jealous. It’s… it’s the way all the guys reacted to me.”
He chuckled. “Oh, that.”
“I don’t know how to deal with any of this. This type of thing doesn’t happen to girls like me. Men don’t fight over me, they don’t ask me out, they don’t…” Chase thundered into her heart, and then froze there, beating at her insides with the memory of his touch, the rough passion of his embrace, the slow fire of his kisses. She shook her head, trying to drive all thought of him away.
“I hate to see you hurting like this,” Alexander said. He took the crumpled tissues from her hand, tossed them across the room into his waste basket, then pressed her fingers between his warm palms. “Things like this do happen to girls like you, Roxy. Because you’re worth it.”
“No, I’m not.”
“That’s not what you really think. It’s only what the outside world tells you. But it’s not what you feel – it’s not what your totem feels.”
She raised her eyes from the floor and stared at him, remembering all at once how glad and whole she had felt that morning months ago, when she’d woken with the dawn and felt her totem glowing inside her. “No. It’s not what my totem feels.”
He squeezed her fingers. “You should listen to that fox. She’s pretty smart.”
“I just… I feel so heartbroken over…” She still refused to say Chase’s name, but Alexander seemed to hear what she had left unspoken.
“I’m not telling you to just get over it,” he said quietly. “I know it doesn’t work that way. But there are other men in the world, Roxy. There are other men who can love you, who will respect you and treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”
The intensity of his pale eyes held her; she couldn’t look away. But unlike that night when he had lost control, now she did not fear him. After so long learning at his side, they had become, against all odds, close friends.
It startled Roxy, to realize that she trusted Alexander, the one person she thought she could never trust. She more than trusted him: she liked him. He was a patient and thorough teacher, a reliable companion, and he showed real concern for Roxy – and real remorse for his past wrongs. He had changed. He was a different man now, a better man. As she looked into his ice-blue gaze, she wondered, Doesn’t everybody deserve a second chance?
There was a part of her that pushed back. No, she knew, everybody didn’t deserve a second chance. Some offenses were too great to forgive. And this comfort and attraction she was feeling now – that was Alexander’s natural gift, his alpha magnetism that made him a natural leader among his kind. Among her kind. She was a shifter, that isolated corner of her mind said. She was just as susceptible to Alexander’s charms as Darien or Jack or Logan or any of the brothers.
But still she found herself squeezing his hand in return, and smiling at the look of pleased surprise on his face.
“Do you think,” Alexander said, leaning closer until she felt the words as a whisper past her ear, “that I might have a chance someday? To show you how you deserve to be treated? To show you that I can be a real man – good to you, and respectful, and kind?”
She blushed and smiled in embarrassment. “This is still all so strange to me…”
Alexander backed away slightly. “I understand. I don’t want to push you, Roxy; I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“But,” she said, kicking and clawing at the thought of Chase, the weight that still sank like a stone in her chest, “maybe we can try. Maybe.”
He beamed at her. Roxy was taken aback. Alexander was always so serious; she had never seen him grin this way, like a little boy with an ice cream cone – it was an expression of pure, happy pleasure.
“That’s good enough for me,” he said.
Roxy couldn’t help but grin back at him. She didn’t know whether it was Alexander’s alpha tendencies affecting her shifter side, but at the moment, she didn’t care. When he smiled, the thought of Chase receded, and her pain went with it.
She sat up straight on the bed. “Before we can figure any of that stuff out,” she said, “we need to decide how we’ll deal with Scarlett.”
“Right.” He rose and paced the room in silence, tapping his strong chin with one finger. Finally he stopped and gazed out the window at the university campus, dark and solid amid the snowy flanks of the mountains. “I can’t see a way to do it. Not offhand. But there must be some means of dealing with her; the knowledge is out there. I’m going to assign the brothers to search for an answer. Some dusty old book out there in that library – the answer has to be there, waiting for us to find it.”
“How long will it take?” Roxy asked, knowing even as she spoke that it was a foolish question. “I’m sorry – I know you can’t tell me how long. I just…” She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering at the recollection of the forced shift.
Alexander came to her in two strides. He enfolded her in an embrace, pulling her against his strong chest. He was warm and solid, and he smelled of strength and ability. Roxy stopped her shivering and leaned into him, reveling in the feel of his alpha power.
“It will be all right,” he said. “We’ll work this out, Roxy. We’ll find a way to stop her.”
She remembered the way his wolf had kissed her, the gentle brush of their muzzles in the snow. She wanted him to kiss her now – wanted the reassurance of his strength.
She tilted her face up, seeking his lips. Alexander bent eagerly, but before they could kiss, she flinched away. He stopped, his mouth so close to her own, and waited.
“But what if,” Roxy whispered, “we can’t stop her?”
“We can,” Alexander growled. And through his chest, Roxy could feel the white wolf growl with him.
.10.
T he morning sun was bright on the fields; acres of snow reflected the new light with an intensity that was almost painful. Chase closed his eyes as he leaned against the silver shell of the Airstream, and the snow fields remained as a bright violet echo behind his eyelids.
Inside, he could hear Katrina busy at the stove, fixing breakfast. He inhaled deeply: eggs and hash browns, and all around him, the bright, dusty scent of ice and snow, of the cold that stung his skin with an inviting challenge.
It had been two weeks since he’d left his job. Chase missed the construction crew already, but he didn’t need the money, or life in the city, though God knew he found it enjoyable enough in its rough, matter-of-fact way. Katrina had convinced him that if he was on a quest to live his life, to explore his freedom, then he should give her freewheeling lifestyle
a try.
Chase had been wary, at first, of sharing the camper. And not only because of her witchery, although a witch’s magic was certainly reason enough to be suspicious. Now and then he would catch Katrina looking at him with a certain wistfulness, or worse, a certain possessive glint that made his spine tingle. He suspected she wanted something from him, that her motivation in extending the invitation went beyond the loneliness she professed.
At times Chase thought she would make a move, suggest they ought to rekindle the old flame that Alexander had extinguished between them. She had been respectful in sharing her space – they slept apart, each on their own fold-out bunk, and although her ways were warm and friendly, she never made overtures toward romance. Still, Chase felt certain the moment was coming when Katrina would reach for him, or kiss him, or whisper her secret passions into his ear.
He was not at all certain that he’d resist, when that time came. Her freedom, her earthy spirituality, had only intensified her beauty, that wide-mouthed, sharp-nosed enchantment that was more faery than human. She was as gorgeous a woman as he’d ever seen, and far sweeter and kinder than he’d remembered. Still, she wasn’t Roxy, and the beautiful, now-unobtainable fox-shifter owned Chase’s heart more completely than Katrina ever could. When Katrina reached for him, would Chase return her affections? Or would Roxy forever stand between them, a ghost as real and vivid as the echo of sunlight on snow that still burned his tight-shut eyes?
Yet sometimes Chase felt sure that Katrina’s desires ran along completely different lines, that whatever she wanted, whatever drove her to draw ever closer to Chase, it wasn’t love. That mystery nagged at his thoughts, keeping him awake in the long nights while he listened to the rhythm of her sleeping breath, and he was uncertain of his role in her plans.
But it didn’t matter, he reasoned. She offered him freedom, a gift he was eager to take and explore. He would enjoy the moment while he lived it, and if – or when – his current friendship with Katrina changed into something more, Chase resolved to live in that moment, too.