Forbidden Love (Stone Pack Book 1)

by Harper Phoenix

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Copyright - 2017 Harper Phoenix

  All rights reserved.

  When I started writing this book many years ago, I never thought I would get to the point where I would be thanking people who helped me achieve my dream of getting this story published.

  So, to my husband, thank you for giving me the chance to achieve my dreams and always believing in me. For sleeping, despite the light from my laptop and the incessant tapping of the keys while I sit beside you in bed. Thanks for your patience and often doing my job as well as your own. You are my Forever and Always.

  To my kids for understanding and accepting when I spent so many nights at my desk to get this crazy story done. I love you!

  To all of my family. Thank you for believing in me!

  To my friends who read and loved this story in its early stages—you know who you are! You gave me the encouragement to continue. I will always be thankful for that!

  To my group of Beta’s most of which were new to this just like me! You rock, thank you for all the hard work you put in and the amazing feedback you gave me!

  To the angel sent from above! Your help and guidance helped me so much! I cannot thankyou enough Sarah Ellis! You Rock!

  To my Editor, Claire Allmendinger of Bare Naked Words for making this story readable and pretty!

  To Jo-Anna Walker of Just write creations for designing my kick ass cover! And for making my words pretty in every form!

  To everyone who encouraged me along the way. Thank you!!

  And thank you to you, the readers for daring to peek into my imagination!

  For my Nanna. Always in my heart.

  PROLOGUE

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  THIRTY-TWO

  THIRTY-THREE

  THIRTY-FOUR

  THIRTY-FIVE

  THIRTY-SIX

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  THIRTY-NINE

  Aged five

  Daddy tucked me into bed and kissed me goodnight as I heard the door slam downstairs. He stiffened—that’s how I knew he was sad again. Mommy had been gone since breakfast, and daddy missed her. I knew because he cried when he thought I wasn’t looking. I didn’t like it when daddy cried. It made me sad. I’d drawn him a picture, of him, and me without mommy. I was cross with her because she always made daddy cry. Mommy’s shouldn’t do that.

  Daddy always told me I was clever at drawing things, and he always smiled big when I showed him a new picture. I liked to draw him and me because we were the same when we changed. Mom wasn’t—she was different. Mom said I was different too, but I liked being the same as daddy, I didn’t like being the same as mommy, and she would get mad. They argued about me a lot. I often heard them when they thought I was sleeping. Tonight–after daddy settles me in bed I hear them shouting. I sneak down to sit on the step, three down from the top because number four creaked.

  ‘You have to allow her room to choose!’ Mom shrieks.

  ‘I always allow her to choose, I never force her one way or another, she does it herself. You are being ridiculous as usual,’ Daddy shouts back.

  I sit with my hands on my ears, but I can’t block it out because I can hear everything. Daddy says we can’t tell anyone how well I can hear because I’m special. I can hear everything. Other children can’t hear like me, and it’s a secret. Other children aren’t allowed to run in the forest either, only I am, with daddy and sometimes mom comes too when she isn’t angry with daddy. It hurts a lot when I change, but I like my wolf, and I like it when she plays—it’s fun. I am always careful, just like daddy tells me. My wolf knows what to do and how to be good just like daddy shows me. But sometimes it’s hard when mom comes too because I don’t like my kitsune. Mom is a kitsune, and she says I should be too. But I like my wolf—I don’t like my kitsune. I tell her but she doesn’t like it, and she always blames daddy. I don’t like mom very much sometimes either, but daddy does. He loves her very much. I love daddy. He’s always nice, and we have fun, and he takes me to kindergarten and the park. He reads me stories and shows me things on the map—where I was born, where I have lived and where we could go next. We have a game, and we have pins on the board. I have lived in nineteen houses already. Daddy says we can visit every state and live in every city. Mom doesn’t like that either. She says she wants to go home. I like this home, but mommy says it’s not hers, and she isn’t happy. Mom starts to shout even louder.

  ‘I’ve had it with you. I’m done. I’m leaving, and I wanted to take Devon!’

  ‘If you want to leave then go right ahead, but you are not taking her with you!’

  ‘What would be the point anyway? You’ve ruined her. If I hadn’t have gone through the labour, I would swear she has no kitsune in her. That she isn’t even mine!’

  ‘GET OUT,’ Daddy yells. I hear glass smashing and some loud bangs, so I run back up the stairs and sit on my window seat. I like it there because I can see the forest behind our backyard.

  ‘I’ll be back for her when she’s old enough to know better!’ I hear mom yell over more banging. Then the noise stops, and I see mom in her kitsune form running from the back yard. I’m not sad. But I know daddy will be

  Present Day.

  After a hellishly long flight with the last leg sat by an asshole that really couldn’t take a hint, I was more than ready to dump my shit and crash. The jetlag was already screaming through my body like a hurricane in an alley. I’d been up since the ass crack of dawn and had done nothing but travel since. I’d crossed time zones and lost a whole night’s sleep, arriving in the wet and windy UK the morning after I’d left Phoenix. Which made me feel like shit. But dad insisted I take four flights instead of one direct. For safety’s sake. As always.

  I could tell by all the bewildered faces as I got out of the cab that I wasn’t the only new face on campus. There were people dotted around sporting t-shirts with slogans such as ‘Lost?’ or ‘Ask me a question’ and ‘Here to help.’ I really didn’t want to get in line and ask where I needed to be, so instead I walked around aimlessly for a while until I had to admit defeat and get in the damn line to ask the question because I had no clue where I needed to be.

  The nerdy guy who walked me to my dorm reeked of fear. Maybe this was his first gig as a ‘helper’ or whatever he was. He kept throwing me a half smile whenever I caught him gazing my way, and then he uttered, ‘So, if you want, I can give you my number, and if you need a guide…’

  ‘Um
m thanks, but I’ll be okay.’ I felt instantly guilty as he turned beet red and almost ran right into the glass doors. I watched as people laughed and instantly felt like a huge bitch. I rode the elevator to the third floor and found my room number.

  I took a moment before inserting the key. This was huge. My dad had finally released me from his protective bubble. Well, more like kicked me out if I’m being totally honest. He booked my plane tickets so fast and had my bags practically ready before I’d even completed the application. To say he was in a hurry to get rid of me was an understatement. I was used to moving—we did it regularly, but I’d never done it alone. It was so unlike my dad to let me go further than school and home without him. However, this time he insisted. I’d grown accustomed to what I thought was my dad’s paranoid behaviour, that before we were ‘found out’ we had to move, so I never argued. I just went to the next destination—our next chapter.

  So although this was a lone venture I was more than happy to run with it. I wanted my own space, my own life. Time to finally find myself.

  As I pushed open the door my first thought was shit what the hell have I done? The place was tiny. How the hell was I going to cope being cooped up in this shoebox of a room? And my roommate hadn’t even arrived yet. I was used to lots of space, open plan living. Fair enough we never spent long in each place, but it was always big wherever we went. My second thought was, to hell with it I only have to sleep here. At the mere thought of sleep my eyes felt heavy, and as I rubbed at them, they felt like I’d brought half the Sonora desert with me. Shit, I was an asshole when I didn’t get enough sleep. And the nerdy guy was proof of that. So I unravelled the new comforter and pillow pack from the bed and threw myself on it. I don’t even think more than a few minutes had passed before I was out. Bliss.

  I wake to a new scent in the room, I sit up bolt upright and fall backwards straight on my ass. I don’t quite hit the floor because I fall into an open suitcase right by the bed.

  ‘Shit, I was doing my best. I’m so sorry. I really have been sooo quiet. You were like completely comatose. You actually scared the bejesus outta me. I was like ‘oh my god is she dead?’ but then you started to snore, it was actually quite cute—’ aaannd she goes on and on like that. I tune her out while I climb out of her luggage, detaching some Velcro shit from my ass.

  ‘—Oh my god I don’t even know your name, I’m Maiya by the way,’

  ‘Devon.’ I put my hand in hers and shake. Maiya doesn’t stop grinning. She reminds me of the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland. The resemblance stops there though. She looks like she just walked right out of Adolf Hitler’s fantasy of what an ideal race should look like. A little bit Danish and very much a blonde goddess.’ She has gorgeous long blonde hair and big blue eyes, and a nice body on her too. Long legs, slim build, good tits and ass, all the things that any guy would go for, if she stopped talking long enough for them to appreciate it. Maybe that’s what guys want in a girlfriend? Personally, I prefer not to say too much. Keep to myself and stay in the background. Unseen.

  Growing up, trying to keep under the radar and go unnoticed was difficult at times, but it was something I got used to. We moved around all the time, and I never really made close friends. I never met any friends I was sad to leave behind because I was never around long enough to care. It was tough as a little kid, but I grew used to the life. I’m still well educated, and I mix with regular people. But I have a huge secret to hide, and that was the one and only sacred rule I could never ever break. It has been drummed into me since before I could remember.

  ‘Never, ever, show your true self to anyone.’

  I remember, once in kindergarten, I drew a picture of dad and me. I’d shown the teacher, and she called my dad in and raised her concerns with the principle. To a five-year-old me, it was an innocent picture of my dad and me in wolf form, sharing a rabbit. I had even labelled everything to make it easier. They didn’t see it that way, though. They thought it was disturbing. I guess the blood and guts I’d drawn and coloured in would give that impression, as well as the teeth tearing through the rabbit. I’ve always been good at art. But I never drew another picture like that one again. The school thought I should be monitored and maybe referred to see a psychiatrist because I was showing a darker side. My dad took me home, and we packed up our stuff and left the state. It wouldn’t be the last time that happened either.

  Realising Maiya has asked me a question, I apologise.

  ‘That’s okay. I’m going out with friends soon. You’re welcome to come along. If you want to obviously?’

  ‘Thanks, but I still have a tonne of paperwork to get to the office, and I haven’t even looked around yet.’ I also needed to look for a job, I think.

  Maiya is looking at me like I had two heads.

  ‘You do know what time it is?’ She giggles and snorts. I shake my head, trying and failing to find my phone and check the time. ‘It’s half past nine. At night. Nothing will be open on campus except the club.’ She giggle-snorts again.

  ‘Shit, I slept the whole day?’

  ‘Like I said, you were comatose. So, now you have nothing to do, you wanna come along?’ Well, crap, I really didn’t have anything better to do.

  ‘I guess I could get ready real quick.’ Maiya lets out an excited squeal, which to my ears sounds a lot like a dying rabbit. This is gonna take a lot of patience.

  Turns out we have a neat little bathroom. I drag my ass in there and shower real quick, leaving my hair. I’m not a real girly-girl so never really pay attention to fashion or makeup, but seeing Maiya in her get up, I realise I really needed to step up my game. I look in the mirror at a bleary-eyed me. Long, wavy dark brown hair—not curly but not straight either and a huge pain in the ass to keep a handle on. I have equally dark brown eyes, full lips, and good cheekbones, or so I’ve been told.

  ‘I don’t know what to wear?’ I confess. My closet is seriously lacking in the ‘night out’ section. I dress for comfort and obscurity on a day-to-day basis. I turn from the mirror to find her rifling through my luggage. Seriously?? I’m about to snap her head off. But instead, I step back and take a breath. After all, she is trying to be helpful. Even though having someone encroach on what’s mine goes against all of my natural instincts.

  ‘Wow, you have some nice stuff, Devon, but we need to go shopping if you wanna go out regularly.’ She smiles in a way that makes me think she is full of shit. She hates my stuff and wants to shop for a whole new closet. I laugh at her inability to lie.

  ‘Really? Hoodies and joggers don’t do it for you?’ I ask dripping sarcasm, making her giggle-snort again as she pulls out a pair of black skinny jeans.

  ‘These, though, these will work!’ she declares throwing them my way. Then she starts rifling through her closet and pulls out a fire-engine-red halter-neck top, which doesn’t look to have any support for tits and clearly doesn’t have enough material to hide a bra inside. The whole back is none existent.

  After an awkward twenty minutes of Maiya introducing me to tit tape and helping me get the top to fit securely and fasten over my ample puppies she declares she will never wear that top again because I look way better in it than she ever did. I barely put on any makeup, just brush my hair through and scrape it back into a ponytail. I do however slap on some bright red lipstick to finish off. While I do that, Maiya also digs out a pair of killer heels for me that match. I am so lucky that we wear the same shoe size, otherwise, it would have been sneakers.

  After some more preening and doubting myself, Maiya takes charge and tells me I look stunning. I actually feel great too. I soon master the art of walking in heels, and we are good to go. On the way, I discover that she is indeed of Danish heritage, which explains the stunning blonde hair and blue eyes, but she was born and bred here in England. She told me the name of the place, but I can’t remember what it’s called, just that a television programme was filmed there. It’s the middle of nowhere, and they still have steam trains. Maiya asks me all sorts
of personal information, but she seems happy with my short answers. She now knows I’ve travelled from Phoenix and I grew up with a single dad, and I’m eighteen. So is she, apparently. That made her do a little happy dance and squeal a real lot. But I can’t help but like the girl. She has a constant smile.

  Maiya introduces me to a group of friends she’s met during something I had missed that day. It feels strange being out in a group, but they are all really nice and easy going. It doesn’t stop my nerves, though. I’m panicking in case I say or do something stupid or inappropriate.

  ‘Okay, let’s get mortalled,’ Maiya squeals and drags me along to the bar. I follow behind her. I feel uncomfortable and awkward. The music is so loud that my hearing is tampered, and the stench in here of booze mixed with body odour and perfume makes my stomach turn a little. Maiya must sense my unease because at the bar she lines up four shots—of what I’m uncertain—it's green with some brown liquid on the top.

  ‘On three! One… two… three.’ She downs one and slams the glass onto the bar before doing the same to the next. I’m behind by one, but I catch up quick, downing the disgusting shit just like she did.

  ‘What the fuck was that?’ I ask screwing my face up. I can hear the smile in her words when she answers,

  ‘That was your first ‘shit on the grass’!’

  ‘Say what now?’

  She cracks up laughing at the look on my face. And I’m not surprised. Who the hell orders anything called shit on the grass? Well, apparently Maiya does.

  ‘It’s their shot of the hour. They have all kinds of weird and wonderfully named shots. When it’s the shot of the hour, it’s only a pound a shot, so we need to get on it.’

  I nod my approval—she doesn’t need to know it’s my first time drinking. We head back to the table after another round of shots. This time, I beat her, slamming my second glass down while she’s only just picking up her second. Practice makes perfect and all that. We carry on like that, and I am totally tipsy when it’s my turn to get the drinks in. I slide past Maiya’s friend, Mike I think his name is, and push his hand off as he grabs at my ass. He’s been flirting with me since we got here, throwing stupid lines out like, ‘Was your dad a boxer because you’re a knockout’. Lame. Totally not happening any time. Ever. But I smile and move away politely. My dad would be proud, must be the booze calming my usual temper.