by Juniper Hart
The next day, she had been released from the hospital, and Ryder had asked her to be his mate over dinner. She hadn’t even had to think about it.
Now here they were.
At first, the Elders were furious at what Ryder had done. He’d intervened in the mortal world and prevented a mortal death by mortal means, which was forbidden. However, Ryder was the alpha, and the rest of his pack came to his aid, and so the Elders had had no choice but to accept what had happened. Lola knew the Elders would always see her as an outsider, but Piper and the rest of the pack had accepted her unconditionally.
Being a werewolf was a lot different than she’d thought it would be, and in the past three months, she had learned a lot about the world, experiencing things from a both a wolf’s perspective and a human’s. It was a fun journey, and it was one she could go through with Ryder at her side the entire time.
Of course, Lola had not revealed anything about being a shifter to her family or her friends, and she never intended to do so. She did wonder, though, if she and Ryder had kids, would they be shifters? The shifter gene did not skip anyone. It was always dominant. They would have to lie and hide that part of themselves away from the rest of her family.
Lola had posed these questions to Ryder, and he had been quick to put her mind at ease.
“You have nothing to worry about,” he said. “Any children we have will be normal children for the most part. They will just have a small gift, an advantage. They will have power when they truly need it. Their only weakness will be silver. Other than that, they will be virtually invincible. It’s a blessing.”
“I know that,” Lola replied. “But what about when they’re just babies and can’t control the shift? You aren’t worried someone will find out?”
“No,” Ryder told her. “The shift doesn’t happen to us until we are past puberty. It’s just like any other adult gift that happens during those few years of development.”
Lola laughed. “You’re making that up,” she said.
“No, I’m serious. Otherwise, we’d all be discovered very early on.”
“Okay,” she murmured. She wasn’t sure she entirely believed him or not, but if he wasn’t worried, then she decided not to be, either.
Then Ryder said that, in addition to their actual mating ceremony, he wanted to have a traditional wedding. Lola was absolutely thrilled. She found out soon enough, though, that the stress of becoming a werewolf was not nearly as difficult as the stress of planning a wedding.
She also learned that her husband-to-be was a lot more old-fashioned than she realized, but he was still open to doing things his own way. He let her plan everything regarding the wedding the way she wanted to, though he was more than happy to lend suggestions and help with anything if she asked as well.
He’d even asked Piper to be his best man. The bond those two shared was beautiful. Lola had never seen a brother and sister that close. Piper had quickly become one of her closest friends, and now they were going to be sisters. It was exciting. She’d always wanted a sister and a big family; now she was marrying into one.
Ryder stood up and tapped his glass with a spoon to get everyone’s attention. They all stopped their chatter and looked at him. He paused until everyone in the room had turned in his direction.
“Everybody,” he began, “I just wanted to propose a toast to my amazing wife, Lola, who is my absolute everything.” He turned to her, and Lola forced herself to blink back her tears. “She is my biggest strength, my loyal companion, and my one true soulmate. I love you, Lola.” Then he turned to the rest of the room—to the rest of his pack. “And I would like to propose a toast to all of you here today. You are all cherished family and friends. We would not be who we are, and we would not be who we are for each other, without each and every single one of you. We just want you all to know how much we care about you and how blessed we are to have every single one of you in our lives. Thank you. Enjoy the party!”
The crowd gave Ryder a standing ovation and cheered as the DJ cranked up the music in the background. Guests flooded the dance floor.
“I love you,” Lola said when Ryder sat back down.
“I love you so much more,” Ryder replied with a smile. “I mean ‘to the moon and back,’ way, way more.”
Lola lightly punched him in the arm. “You have issues,” she said.
“I know. You love me for them,” Ryder responded.
Lola had discovered that, since finding out that Roger Myers was dead, her husband had become a much more lighthearted person. And he was also had a hilarious sense of humor she found endearing.
“Are you ready?” Ryder asked after they left the ceremony and stepped into the limousine that would take them to her new home. In the morning, they were flying out to Cabo for the first leg of their two-week honeymoon paradise vacation.
“Absolutely,” Lola said.
She never wanted to be anywhere but right by his side. And being an immortal now, she never had to be.
THE END
Part II
The Lost Shifter
By Lucy Penn
1
The moon hung high in the sky, silver and beautiful, its light glimmering over the forest. The looming tall trees, with their ever-reaching branches, broke the light up into majestic patches in front of him. The world around him was perfectly illuminated, and even with his perfect night sight, he was amazed at how the brightness was almost too much for his eyes—the gleam cascaded off the trees and the leaves on the ground in front of him.
Caleb Saunders inhaled deeply, breathing the open air into his massive lungs and letting his chest pump and stretch to its absolute limit. He loved the way it felt to be alive, and he never felt more alive than on the nights with a full moon. The sweet scents that flooded his head were magnificent, and he loved to taste every single thing Mother Earth had to offer when he was in his fully shifted form.
It was during nights like this that he found himself gladder than ever to be a werewolf. He’d been born a wolf; he’d never known anything else, although, as a younger wolf—and especially as a child— he’d often wished that he could experience what it was like to be normal. It wasn’t until maybe the past twenty years or so that he’d realized how lucky he was, and he had finally grown to truly appreciate being a wolf.
Caleb emerged out of a legion of trees into a stretch of open land. The grass was dying and shorter than usual under the October sky. He loved this time of year. Everything seemed to be winding down and going into hibernation: the color of the trees, the smells, the sights and sounds—all of it was intoxicating to him. His feet began to thump harder against the cool ground as he started to sprint across the open field. In the distance, he could plainly see where the forest wrapped back around, the way it would soon engulf him in a warm embrace of trees and shrubbery.
Caleb welcomed it all. As a creature with one foot in the supernatural world of being a werewolf and the other foot firmly rooted in the realm of being human, he was able to experience and truly appreciate the best of both worlds and everything that each had to offer someone like him.
He wondered what the rest of his pack was doing tonight. Many of them did not seem to share his enthusiasm for experiencing everything through the eyes of a shifter. Most of them had long ago become disillusioned with their immortality, but Caleb still found new things in this ever-changing world to be surprised and inspired by. Perhaps it was because he was a young wolf still, barely two hundred years old, or maybe it was because he was now the alpha.
He’d been born to his pack’s last alpha, David. His father had been killed by a silver bullet while out one night on a routine surveillance route. Caleb knew that the murderer belonged to the Manzweil pack, a werewolf clan with a long-lasting feud against his own—he knew, deep in his bones, that his father had been a casualty of that feud. But there had never been any actual proof, and Caleb had never been able to find anything, even after more than thirty years.
Human hunters were
also out there that could be blamed for any tragedy surrounding werewolf packs, but their numbers were very. The lycanthropes had tried to keep a low profile for the entire span of their existence, but some humans did occasionally stumble onto them. These people were a nuisance and had to be swiftly and carefully dealt with.
Caleb hated the idea of killing anyone, even more if it was a human, but if a human came at him or his pack to destroy them, then he would do what had to be done. It was simple self-defense at that point.
As much as he and the rest of the pack knew that the Manzweils had murdered his father, nothing could be done about it. The feud had lasted for almost five hundred years, but the packs had been quietly coexisting in the same region for that the last few decades.
No one wanted an all-out war. It would draw the wrong kind of attention, and bloodshed was something Caleb’s father had forbidden if it could be avoided. Caleb was doing his best to uphold his father’s wishes, even though certain members of his pack had tried to convince him to end the feud by any means necessary. While he understood their feelings, and while he agreed that the Manzweil pack was dangerous in more ways than one, he just did not want to start anything that would risk even more lives. He knew that if his father were still with them, he would not accept it, no matter what.
Caleb was almost to the edge of the forest when he spotted… something out of the corner of his eye. At first, he thought it might be a member of the Manzweils. Instinctively, he crouched down in a defensive position, ready for whatever might be coming his way. As an alpha, his reflexes were far superior to that of an average werewolf, but he knew never to underestimate an opponent, no matter how weak they appeared to be.
After a few moments without anyone or anything jumping at him, Caleb approached the patch of grass where he thought he’d seen the threat. But what he found was no threat—it was a woman.
She was lying face-down on the ground, her body shaking from head to toe, leaves tangled in her hair, wearing little clothing, and as Caleb moved closer to her, he could see a bad wound on her shoulder.
It only took him a moment to smell the silver. It permeated the air surrounding the woman, emanating harshly from the wound itself. Caleb could see that the bullet had not penetrated the flesh, but merely grazed her. If it had actually hit her, she would have been dead.
Which could only mean one thing: the woman was a wolf, like him. He was certain of it. No one else would have been shot at with a silver bullet.
As Caleb knelt down to lay his hand on her, he could feel her life slowly fading away. She was going to die soon if he didn’t help her.
Caleb carefully scooped the woman up in his arms. As he did so, she opened her eyes, only briefly, and he got a good look at her face for the first time. She was beautiful; angelic, even. Her long blond hair perfectly cupped her smooth facial features and her soft, perfect mouth. Her body was curvaceous, but athletic. And Caleb couldn’t help but notice her large bosom, now pressed against his chest as he gently cradled her. Looking into her eyes, he could tell that she probably didn’t know what was going on. Her gaze was hazy and unfocused; it was only a survival instinct. Then she passed out again, her breath becoming shallower by the second.
Caleb ran at full speed, carrying the woman through the woods as he dodged trees and plants, using his perfect vision and supernatural athleticism to ensure her safety.
His first instinct was to take her to his pack, but then he thought better of it. While she wasn’t part of them, he didn’t think she was part of the Manzweils, either. He wasn’t aware of any other packs in the area, though. He needed to find out more about who this woman was exactly, so his cabin, a small yet cozy cabin in the middle of the woods, would be the perfect place.
He often used it during the week of the full moon so he could better commune with nature, and it just seemed to help him feel closer to who he really was without having to constantly pretend to fit in the modern society all around him.
Once they reached his cabin, Caleb quickly bathed the woman. He poured in several different concoctions into the water. The pack doctor had given each pack member remedies to help if they were ever poisoned with silver. Caleb was glad he had them on hand. It was important that he extract every little trace of silver from her wound and skin.
Even though the bullet had only grazed her, just those microscopic particles were enough to nearly kill her. It would have happened over a long period of time, so he figured this woman had been lying there for at least a day. She was strong; it was a miracle that she was still alive.
After the bath, Caleb dressed her in a pair of his sweats and a t-shirt. He felt very odd about seeing this woman nude, and he did his best to overt his eyes to respect her privacy, but in a matter of life and death, privacy often had to go out the window. He just hoped she would also see it that way when she recovered… if she recovered.
The next twenty-four hours were going to be crucial. He would have to stay with her and monitor her condition nonstop.
Once he had put her to bed, Caleb mixed together an elixir containing ginger root, wild lavender, and marigold. Next, he added the most important ingredient: wolfsbane. Even though wolfsbane was actually poisonous if ingested or injected on its own, it bolstered the immune system of werewolves when mixed with specific plants.
Using a dropper, Caleb carefully gave the potion to the woman. Then he sat down with a book beside the bed and waited to see if she improved… or if he had been too late.
2
Where am I?”
The voice startled Caleb at first. It had been so quiet in the cabin, and he was so used to his solitude, that he’d almost forgotten about the sleeping woman in his home. He set down the bottle of juice he’d just grabbed from the fridge and walked into the bedroom. The woman was sitting up in bed. Her eyes, now staring at his frame standing at the doorway, were still slightly unfocused, but she was definitely awake.
The question had been posed almost as if she were just talking to herself. She seemed genuinely surprised that someone else was there, and she tried to scoot back a bit on the bed.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Caleb said, raising his arms in front of him. “You’re safe here.”
The woman did not speak. She looked at the oversized clothes on her body and peered at her surroundings. Caleb tried to empathize with her confusion. She must be terrified, and this was surely disorienting for her.
“Where is ‘here’?” she asked softly. “Who are you?” She put a hand up to her forehead and she winced slightly.
“Ah, you’re probably dehydrated,” Caleb said. “I’ll get you some water.”
“Wait,” she said before he could turn away. “Answer my question. Who are you and what am I doing here?”
“My name is Caleb Saunders,” he told her. “I found you last night in the woods. You were almost dead. It appears that a silver bullet grazed your skin and you were suffering toxic shock. You’re very lucky to be alive.”
“What?” The woman blinked at him. “I… I don’t remember anything about that,” she said.
Caleb frowned. “You have no idea who might have shot you or why? Did they discover that you are a lycan?”
“A lycan?” she repeated in disbelief. “What is that?”
Caleb didn’t know if she didn’t trust him enough to tell him, or if she was just playing dumb. This woman was bound to know that she was a werewolf, right? She was a shifter like him, he could sense it.
What was going on?
“What’s your name?” Caleb asked, moving to the corner of the room—where he kept a mini-fridge—and grabbing cold bottle of water. He opened it and handed it to her.
The woman jerked the water bottle from his hands and chugged it down in only a few gulps. He then handed her another one, which she sipped much more slowly than the first.
“Thanks,” she said after she had finished her second bottle of water.
“So, do you have a name?” Caleb asked again.
The woman t
hought for several seconds. She looked up at him with a mix of fear and total confusion.
“I don’t know,” she answered, her voice small and soft. “I… I can’t remember anything about myself.” She dropped her head onto her hands. “What’s happening?”
Caleb sat down on the edge of the bed.
“It’s okay,” he reassured her. “I’m sure your memory will return in time. You’ve been through a horrible ordeal.”
The woman turned to him again. “Thank you,” she murmured. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
“No problem,” Caleb replied. “Well, until you remember your name, I have to call you something. How about Olivia?”
She thought for a moment and then smiled slightly. “Olivia is fine. I like that.”
“Good. Are you hungry?” Caleb asked.
“I’m starving.”
Olivia wolfed down three slices of avocado toast and a bowl of pasta. Caleb was impressed with her appetite. There was something about watching a beautiful woman not afraid to eat to her heart’s content. It was… sexy.
“So, where are you from?” Olivia asked, taking a sip from the coffee Caleb had prepared.
Caleb told her a bit about himself, but he was careful not to give her too much information. He still had no idea who she was or what pack she belonged to, if she even belonged to one. It was also possible that she was a lone wolf. Sometimes wolves were ostracized and kicked out of their packs for various different reasons, and sometimes they left on their own.
He couldn’t imagine that type of life, though. The loneliness would have eaten him alive. It was against lycanthrope law to ever tell a human about your true self, and if one were found to be in violation of this mandate, they would be put to death. So a lone wolf was forced to walk alone forever, unless they could get another pack to take them in. But that rarely happened.