by May Dawson
“I’m a lover, not a fighter.” She took his sunglasses out of his hand and opened them up, sliding them onto her own face.
He quirked an eyebrow at her.
“You’re my brother.” She patted his cheek affectionately. “I’m never going to see you as alpha the same way everyone does. Even though you’re very scary when you’re in full alpha mode.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’ve got to do something with your life. Your alpha is about to throw you out on your ass so you get moving.”
“I am moving,” she promised him. “All the way to California.”
The toothpick fell from his lips onto his shirt. He picked it up and slipped it into his blazer pocket before he looked at her. “Excuse me?”
“San Diego has a bunch of shifters living in a house together off campus,” she said hastily. “I was accepted to the school. I’ll be safe there—with our own kind.” She flashed him a smile that he wasn’t going to return. “I’ve got it all worked out.”
“You know, the war’s not over yet,” he said tightly. “You can’t move across the country.”
“I’m not really a shifter anymore, am I, Penn? And neither are you,” she returned.
Penn gritted his teeth. He waged a war with himself for control before saying, “You’re not going to San Diego.”
“Oh, don’t start giving me ultimatums. It just embarrasses you when you have to take them back.”
I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket. “Oh man, I’ve got to take this.”
“I know you’re just pretending because this is awkward,” Penn said. He turned to Mel. “Look, you scared Lex away.”
I ignored them both—and the sounds of their arguing voices rising behind me—as I wandered across the grassy quad, pretending to take a call.
All around me were other people’s packs, other people’s families. I felt more alone in this crowd than I felt when I was on my own.
I knew my family wasn’t going to magically change into who I wished they were, and yet missing them—missing who they’d never been to me—still felt like an ache throbbing in my chest. Maybe having a family that doesn’t love you is a wound that never really closes.
Impulsively, I called Rosemary.
The phone rang several times. I could just picture her yanking her earbuds out—she was always lost in music—and staring at the screen, debating whether or not to pick up.
Just before the phone would cut to voicemail, she picked up.
“Hey, big brother,” she said, her voice soft, as if she were trying to make sure she wasn’t overheard.
“Hey.” Even I could hear the relief in my voice.
“It’s graduation day, right? Congratulations.”
I wondered how she’d known that. Our pack didn’t send anyone to graduation day, or enroll any students here. They had severed all ties after Piper Northsea insisted on sheltering me at the academy, even though the pack fought to get me back.
“Thanks.” I didn’t know what else to say. There weren’t many safe subjects left. “How’s everything going at home?”
“It’s the same as ever. You know things around here never change.” Her voice rose, then fell again, as if she’d just laid back on her bed. I could picture her putting her bare feet up against the wall, stretching her legs, like she used to do when the two of us read together. We used to take turns reading to each other when we were kids because our parents were so wrapped up in each other they didn’t have time to put us to bed.
She hadn’t asked me about my life. I said, “It’s good to hear your voice.”
“Hang on one second.” The phone went quiet, as if she was listening or had shoved the phone under a pillow to hide it, and a lump of dread formed in my chest.
I’d thought about kidnapping her before, stealing her away from a pack where I worried constantly that she was in danger. But I couldn’t just take her. She wouldn’t stay away from them unless it was her choice, anyway. It was just a fantasy.
I paced among the crowd of smiling people, raking my hand through my hair, my heart beating frantically. The sunshine felt like a joke when the world was such a dark place. If they hurt her, I swore to god, I’d leave graduation and that Council’s Own sword and drive home and kill everyone who got—
“Hey,” she said, sounding a bit breathless. “Dad’s out of the house. Do you want to talk to Mom?”
“Yes,” I said, quicker than sense. I hadn’t spoken to my mother since Maddie and I very briefly visited—with disastrous results. We’d fled my pack’s territory.
“Okay, hang on.”
I could hear her bare feet padding down the hall. She was always barefoot, every chance she got.
The phone was muffled as if she were pressing it against her shirt to block their end of the conversation, but I still heard her ask, “Mom? It’s Lex’s graduation day. Do you want to talk to him?”
“You shouldn’t be on the phone with him.”
I closed my eyes at the sound of my mother’s voice with her soft southern accent. Memories flooded in at the sound, ones I’d almost blocked out: my mother holding me on her lap, rocking me on her rocking chair, singing as the rain fell steadily around our little cabin.
It was easier to see her as a villain. The most painful thing was to remember the tender moments when she was my mother, and still know that she’d always choose him over me.
“Come on, Mom,” Rosemary cajoled. “It’s been months. I know you miss him. I catch you crying when Dad’s not home.”
Jesus. I hated knowing that I hurt my mom, even though she had hurt me first. I chewed my lip, waiting for her answer. I didn’t know what I’d say to her, and my mind reeled, trying to come up with the right words. There was nothing I could say in a five minute conversation that would close the gulf between us, but maybe there was a first step.
The music cut off. I lost whatever Rosemary said next to the voice over the loudspeakers which announced, “Five minutes to line-up, seniors!” A triumphant whoop went up from the seniors in the crowd, followed by laughter. Everyone else was so excited we were almost there.
There was silence on the phone, and I pressed it harder against my ear, as if that would change anything.
Then, my mother’s voice: “Congratulations, Lex.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I said. My voice came out controlled, even though my heart stumbled over the word mom.
“How are you doing?” There was a waver in her voice.
“I might be picked for the Council’s Own,” I said, because maybe that would make the pack proud, despite everything. “And I…I’m happy.”
It was an oversimplification.
“Good,” she said. There was a faint noise in the distance, and she said hastily, “Goodbye, Jacob.”
She hung up.
It had been a long time since anyone called me by my real first name. I stood there staring at my phone, afraid to call or text back in case it gave away to my father that Rosemary and my mom had talked to me. But my heart was racing in my chest, full of fear for them.
A minute later, a text from Rosemary: I love you, big brother. Always will. But don’t call me again. You made your choices.
I stared at those words. My throat went dry.
She hadn’t said goodbye, but I had a feeling that was what she meant. A real goodbye—we aren’t your family anymore.
I shouldn’t have called Rosemary. Already, graduating seniors were moving toward the stage and the rows of white chairs. I wanted to rage and break something--or someone--while everyone else was smiling and happy. I had to get myself under control, even though my emotions were raging.
I joined the crowd; every loving parent seemed intent on walking their son to the roped-off area. Lots of people seemed to have their whole packs here.
“He used to be a shoo-in for the Council’s Own,” I heard someone say quietly to their parents, but I couldn’t see who in the crowd. “But Clearborn kicked him out of his cadre position.”
Ri
ght, no one expected me to be selected for the Council’s Own after that bit of shame. I fixed a neutral look on my face, pretending I hadn’t heard.
My face could be my mask. That was always a comforting thought because I felt as if I were shattering inside.
Then someone touched my elbow.
I turned to find Maddie standing there. The school skirt and blazer hugged her frame; she looked sweet, with her long blond braid hanging over one shoulder. My heart leapt just seeing her.
“Hey,” she said. She nodded toward the stage. “Can I walk with you before I head to the nosebleed seats?”
“Yeah.” I offered her my elbow, and she looped her hand lightly over my forearm.
We didn’t say anything to each other. In fact, I didn’t really trust my voice.
But I wasn’t alone.
When I reached the row of chairs, she leaned up onto her tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek. No matter how chaste that kiss was, the feel of her soft lips on my skin lingered.
“Good luck, Jacob Alexander,” she said, squeezing my forearm before she let go.
“I don’t need luck,” I said, just as she started to go. She smiled at me over her shoulder, giving me one of those lightning-flash Maddie smiles—quick and so bright that it almost hurt to look at.
And suddenly, the dark parts of the world didn’t feel so overwhelming anymore. I could feel the sun heating my hair again, the soft breeze caressing my skin in contrast, as I made my way to my seat.
I glanced down the row, to Rafe just a few seats away. He was steely-faced as ever. If it hurt him to wait to have that sword in his hand, to wonder if it would really happen, no one would have been able to tell by looking at him.
I sat through Clearborn’s speech and an address from our top graduating cadet. Then they began calling names.
I remembered sitting in the back of the rows, just as Maddie and the others were now, watching Eliza’s graduation. As each name was called, the pack’s alpha would come to stand beside the dean, who announced where they were headed after graduation. Then the pack alpha handed them a gift. Those gifts were always weapons.
Eliza had been grim-faced as she received her Council’s Own saber. Then after the ceremony, she’d grinned, all her pride and joy shining out of her eyes as she hugged Rafe and me.
She’d had her very own misfit team. She’d picked the two of us. No wonder Rafe and I had wanted to take Penn, and Chase, and Maddie, and Silas, when no one else did. We owed her—we always would.
“Jacob Alexander,” Clearborn called, and I rose and walked across the stage.
Clearborn shook my hand. There was no one standing next to him, which felt like a gap like a punched-out tooth. I knew everyone in the crowd noticed. It doesn’t matter. Only one thing matters.
He turned to the table behind him and lifted one of those prized Council’s Own sheathed sabers from the table. It looked just like the one Eliza had carried. My heart pounded. This was really happening.
“Council’s Own,” he announced, then passed the sword to me. I took it in both hands and bowed my head, accepting the gift, then carried it across the stage. As I jogged down the podium steps, an alpha passed me on his way up the stairs.
“Jason Boddie,” Clearborn announced. “Returning to defend the Oregon pack.”
I took my seat again as Clearborn called, “Rafael Hunt.”
Rafe strode across the stage, his face that grim mask he wore whenever he had to do something in public. No one would ever guess it from how he spoke, but he had a shy side—he hated speaking in public.
But since it was Rafe, he just came across as angry.
“Council’s Own,” Clearborn said, and Rafe’s alpha passed him the saber, and I exhaled a slow breath of relief. I’d had my doubts until this moment.
Rafe took his seat, his face a mask, as more of our fellow fourth-years walked across the stage. Then he glanced at me behind Boddie’s head. When I looked at him, he grinned.
I grinned back. We’d really made it, after all.
As soon as our class was dismissed for the very last time, Rafe and I headed for the back rows where the younger classes sat. Our team was all together. Rafe ducked his parents, and the team surrounded us.
Maddie jumped into my arms to hug me, and I wrapped my arms around her waist.
“How does it feel to be done with the academy?” she asked. Her body felt so good against mine; I would have sworn she was sunshine personified.
“I’m not done with the academy,” I reminded her, ruffling her hair with one hand as soon as I set her back down. “I’m kind of attached to some people who are still at this school.”
She was smiling, but there was something sad in her eyes as she glanced past us to where Piper and her pack, and Rafe’s family, all were waiting.
“I’m sorry your family isn’t here,” she said.
I shook my head. “Nah, Maddie. I’ve got my family right here.”
She grinned right before she wrapped her arms around my waist, pushing her face against my chest, hugging me as tightly as she could.
Sometimes it really felt as if we could all love each other so fiercely, we could protect our misfit patrol from the rest of the world.
Chapter Six
Maddie
Rafe rested his elbow on my shoulder. When I looked up at him, the look in his eyes was devilish, even though he didn’t smile. But just that causal touch after all this time made my heart beat faster.
“Congratulations, sir,” I said, feeling my lips quirk mischievously.
“I’m not a sir to you anymore,” he reminded me, then leaned in closer to whisper, “Well, at least not outside of the bedroom.”
A throb of desire ran through my body, and I bit my lower lip.
Someone cleared his throat behind us. It was the most aggressive throat-clearing I’d ever heard, and I closed my eyes briefly as if praying for strength, suddenly quite confident that Piper and her men were behind us.
I turned to find Arthur and Callum in the lead, Piper behind them speaking quietly to Finn, who was carrying Cole in a baby carrier strapped over his broad shoulders. They were so cute and wholesome, it made me want to smile.
If only they hadn’t just overheard Rafe and I flirting about our kinky daydreams.
I hugged each one of my big brothers, though, unable to hold back an embarrassed grin that turned into a genuine smile as they wrapped their big arms around me. It always felt like home whenever I was surrounded by my sister and her men.
“You guys all know each other,” I said. I held my arms out to Kai, who grinned as he hugged me with one arm, then twisted so I could take baby Scarlett from him. “Oh my gosh, look at her little dress!”
“We do,” Arthur said. He frowned at Rafe. “I don’t think I like you, though.”
“Oh, don’t do that stereotypical protective thing,” Piper said dismissively. “It’s annoying.”
Arthur quirked an eyebrow at her.
“He’s kidding,” Callum said hastily, interrupting whatever Arthur was about to say next.
“Mm-hmm.” Rafe rested his hand on my lower back. “I’ll see you in an hour? Enjoy your time with your family.”
I nodded. But I still went with him a few steps away from my family, walking with him toward his own pack. Scarlett pressed her lips against my cheek, and I smiled, until it turned into a raspberry. She laughed at herself, and I wiped baby spit off my cheek. “New trick, I guess.”
“She’s adorable,” Rafe said, touching her chin with one finger. She smiled at him too. “Northsea women make cute babies, apparently. Despite the poor male material they have to work with.”
There was a smile in his voice.
“Don’t mind Arthur,” I said.
“Oh, I don’t. I wouldn’t like me either, in his place.”
“Well, Rafael Hunt, why is that?” I asked, widening my eyes innocently. “Are you going to do bad, dirty things to me?”
“Don’t talk like that in
front of Scarlett,” he chided. “But yes.”
“I hope you won’t let Arthur scare you off.”
“Nothing could ever keep me away from you,” Rafe promised, then sauntered off toward his own pack as I stared after him, reeling from the casual way he’d just delivered that promise.
I went back to my own pack. Piper was kissing the top of Cole’s little head, and Arthur was watching her with a look of protective devotion that bordered on adoration. The way he looked at her made me ache—didn’t we all want to be loved so completely?
“It’s so good to see you,” I told Piper, rocking absently back and forth to bounce baby Scarlett in my arms, “but I promised Rafe I’d do dinner with his family tonight.”
“I know,” she told me, a mischievous smile touching her lips. She held out her arms, and I planted a kiss on Scarlett’s forehead, then reluctantly handed her over to Piper. “I figured you’d want to spend the day with your team before you come home for the summer.”
I hesitated, and she said slowly, “You’re not coming home for the summer.”
“I’ll come home for a visit,” I said hastily. “But… not right away.”
“I see,” she said. There was something sad in her eyes. “It’s that time. You’ve got your own battles to fight, Maddie, but I hate that we’re not together. If you ever need us, you know we’re just a call away.”
“I know.”
“You’re all grown up,” she said, looking at me as if she wanted to hug me. Callum was suddenly there, lifting the baby out of her arms and cooing—it was weird to hear badass Callum coo—and then Piper threw her arms around me.
“Stay safe,” she murmured in my ear.
I closed my arms around her waist, hugging her back fiercely. “I’ll do my best, but I might be a little too much like my big sister.”
“God help us all,” Arthur muttered.
“Take a walk with me,” Piper suggested, holding out her hand. She was always so easily affectionate—which would have surprised anyone who knew her as the ice queen who controlled three packs—and I wrapped my hand around her delicate fingers. She was just a little bit shorter than I was—not that I cared or anything.