by C. Larsen
Well, I'm just glad I never took any of his flirtatious comments seriously. The last thing I need right now is another romantic entanglement.
I feel Gray step up behind me, his chest almost brushing my back.
"There some purpose to your babbling?" Gray rumbles, barely contained anger seething from him.
"Just wanted to get a look at this supposed wonder-girl.”
"Well, you did. Now you can go." Gray's voice holds the unmistakable tone of command, and Zak's head lowers a fraction before he catches himself and glares. Then he turns his back on us and stalks across the room.
Gray's narrowed eyes remain fixed across the room for a moment, then he visibly shakes off his anger and pastes a lazy smile on his face. "Has he been like this since I left?" he asks Isabel.
She rolls her eyes. "Worse. You should have seen him on the last hunt—you'd think he was next in line for Alpha."
"Well he's not, and it's time he learned it."
Despite my nerves, I find the conversation fascinating. I know Gray, being the Alpha’s son, is one of the strongest in the pack. Why would Zak challenge him? He deliberately provoked him, like he was hoping Gray would attack. But why would Zak would want that? It's obvious Gray’s the stronger of the two; Zak would lose any fight between them. His behavior baffles me.
I recall a nature special I once watched, the wolves in the pack would wait until a stronger male was injured or sick before challenging them. Maybe Zak is just biding his time until challenging Gray, waiting for a weak moment.
The thought sends a chill down my spine. Maybe things here aren't as simple and honest as I thought...
A few people around us had watched the confrontation with Zak with narrowed eyes, as if sizing up opponents before choosing the side most likely to win. It's unnerving, but Gray lets it roll off his shoulders.
Miles and Isabel catch Gray up on all the pack drama he missed while out of town. Most of it goes over my head, not knowing any of the people they talk about are, so I spend the time looking around the crowded room, watching and listening to everyone around me.
Everyone is dressed to the nines, wearing tuxes and ball gowns. I shift nervously, feeling out of place even with the gorgeous dress I’m wearing. The fact that most of the older men and women around the room are speaking Russian doesn’t help. I wonder if they immigrated here with Nikolay, and if so, why? According to Gray, Ivan is an Alpha of his own pack in Russia. Maybe Nikolay moved to the US to distance himself from his father? After what I've seen of that man, I probably would have left the country to get away from him, too.
And speaking about difficult family members…
“Where’s Madelyn?” I ask, turning to Gray. “Is she coming tonight?”
“She’ll be here, along with the rest of the coven. Once they get here, we can eat.”
The mouthwatering aroma of cooking meat wafts into the room, making my stomach to growl.
"Hungry?" Gray asks, smiling.
"Starving," I say. "I can't seem to stop eating."
"The change will do that to you. I guess this explains your food binge yesterday morning." He laughs as my cheeks pinken and turns to Miles and Isabel. "You should have seen her during breakfast the morning before her change. She ate nearly as much as me. I couldn't believe a tiny thing like her was able to pack so much food away."
I elbow him in the side, hard enough to make him grunt. No girl wants to be told she eats as much as a guy twice her size, especially in front of strangers. "You’re such a gentleman," I say glaring at him. He rubs his side, grinning, completely unrepentant. "When will my appetite go back to normal?"
"Never," Isabel says.
Gray and Miles both laugh as my mouth drops open.
"Oh my god, I am going to get so fat," I say, horrified.
"Oh, don't worry about that," Isabel says. "Werewolves metabolize calories much faster, which is why we eat so much to begin with. It'll be practically impossible for you to get fat." She grins. "One of the perks of being a were'."
"It's not all fun and games," Gray says seriously. "There is a down side to a faster metabolism. It takes a lot more alcohol to get drunk."
I burst out laughing. "The tragedy.”
"Hey, it's a serious problem," he says with a straight face.
"Yes, I'm sure it is," I reply, fighting a smile.
"You never take me seriously." He sighs and I can't stop another laugh from bubbling up.
"I'm more interested in what you were doing at her house so early in the morning," Miles says with a wicked grin.
"What can I say," Gray says with a shrug. "Ladies can't resist my charm."
"As if." I roll my eyes and shake my head. "He insisted on sleeping on my floor. What was it you said?" I ask Gray. "Think of you as a dog?"
Miles bursts out laughing. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Isabel grin and shake her head. I don't see any sign of jealousy at hearing that Gray slept over. Maybe whatever relationship Zak alluded to is over and done with between them.
Not that I care one way or the other... I just don't want another person hating me, especially a werewolf. I have enough enemies as it is.
Chapter 14
Before long I hear a small commotion coming from the direction of the foyer.
"Finally," Miles says. "Took 'em long enough. You'd think they’d know better than to keep a room full of hungry werewolves waiting."
At the far end of the room Madelyn enters the Den, followed by a couple of dozen other people. Though they've obviously made an effort to dress up, they aren't dressed nearly as extravagantly as the pack. The women are all wearing floor length dresses, but they are more sedate than the ball gowns worn by the pack. Instead of tuxes, the men in Madelyn's coven have on suits and ties.
Madelyn catches sight of me through the crowd and makes a bee-line toward me. She stops three feet away, familiar violet eyes studying me. Her eyes are no less captivating for the wary look in them.
"Emerson." Her voice has a polite coolness to it, the kind you might use with a stranger you encounter on the street. "How are you?" The way she's watching me, so measured and cautious, makes my hackles rise. It's like she's only asking whether I've gone feral or not yet. After learning a week ago that she has a long-lost granddaughter, I would have thought she'd be a little happy to see me. Apparently not. I'm just a danger to her. A liability.
"Haven't killed anyone yet, if that's what you mean.”
I feel Isabel and Miles' shocked gazes. Gray chokes back a laugh. Madelyn narrows her eyes, but I think I can detect a hint of amused approval in them. "Glad to see you see you're settling in. Maybe once you've...gotten a handle on things...we can see about continuing your training with the Ashwood Coven."
My eyebrows lift in surprise. I hadn't expected this, especially given her fear of me. "Your coven would train me? A half-breed?"
Madelyn's lips turn downward, though I can't tell if it's from my belligerent tone or my use of Zak's earlier insult.
"Once we're certain there's no danger to us, then yes, we will. We aren't as prejudiced against werewolves as your last coven. Our only concern is your safety, as well as ours. When Nikolay can tell us for certain that you aren't—" she hesitates, gaze flicking to Isabel and Miles before changing what she was going to say‒ "once we're assured it's safe, we'll work out a training schedule."
Shocked that she would even consider training me knowing what I am, all I can do is nod. Then she sweeps past us, heading for the hallway, the rest of the coven following closely behind.
With that, the pack slowly follows, and we begin making our way towards the dining room. About time, too. The smell from the kitchen has been steadily growing stronger. If we weren't called in soon I might have started gnawing the legs off the chairs.
Gray drapes an arm casually around my shoulders and this time I don't bother to shake him off. The butterflies in my stomach have me unusually in need of his steadying presence beside me.
He steers me down th
e hall into a massive formal dining room. I had wondered how on earth everyone was going to be able to fit, but once I see the room, it all becomes clear.
A set of tall double doors open into a massive rectangular room. Far on the other side, set back against the shorter wall, sits a raised dais with a long table that easily seats twelve, but would seat more if all the chairs weren't on one side, looking out over the rest of the room. Below the dais is another two tables running the length of the room, their dark polished wood gleaming under two crystal chandeliers suspended twenty feet above.
It's like something out of story book, something you'd expect to find in a palace among royalty.
Before we enter, Gray takes my arm and pulls me off to the side to let the others enter first. Madelyn stands off to the side like Gray and I, but the rest of her coven files in, then the rest of the pack, some in pairs with linked arms, others entering alone. The coven heads to the table on the right, the pack all crowding together at the left table. Despite the number of coven and pack members, the long tables aren't even half full.
"What the hell, Gray?" I whisper to him, gazing at it all.
His lips quirk up in a familiar smirk. "What? Did you think we're all just uncivilized beasts?" He chuckles low in his throat. "Nikolay and Ivan like to keep up the traditions of the old days."
"How old?" I ask sarcastically. "The 1800s?"
"Close. I warned you it was formal."
"This isn't formal," I say, gaze lingering on the dozens of pack and coven members standing behind their chairs waiting ceremoniously for the rest of us to make our way down the aisle. "This is in an entirely different league.”
Madelyn and another witch I've never met enter the room and walk down the long aisle to the head table at the front. They’re the first ones at that table, standing behind the chairs to the far right, waiting like the rest of the room to take their seats. Ivan and the hulking shadow of a wolf that was with him earlier are next to enter, standing behind chairs to the far left of the main table.
Half of Gray's mouth pulls up into a lopsided smile. "Come on, luna. Our turn."
Threading his arm through mine, Gray leads me down the center aisle, all the way up to the dais. We stand behind our chairs, Madelyn to my left, Gray to my right. Ivan's hard eyes stare at me from four seats to my right. I quickly refocus my eyes up front and try not to let my anxiety show. Vasily enters next, taking the seat to the left of Ivan. His eyes meet mine over Gray's shoulder and I feel heat bloom in my cheeks. It still seems crazy to me that my mom was once engaged to him, and that she fled the pack to get out of it.
There’s only one seat still unoccupied at the head table, the one directly between Gray and Vasily.
Finally, Nikolay enters. He walks up the long aisle, head held high, eyes straight ahead. When he reaches the dais, a pack member serving as a waiter steps forward to pull out the chair for him. Once Nikolay sits down, everyone else follows suit.
The whole scenario is bizarre, like Gray and his family are the werewolf equivalent of royalty. Gray pulls my chair out for me before taking his own seat.
The rest of the pack looks up at us, waiting for something. After Nikolay get situated, the waiter hands him a shot glass filled with clear liquid. He stands up from his seat and faces the crowd. Other waiters move around the tables, handing out glasses of the same clear liquid. The sharp scent of vodka invades my nose, making me want to sneeze.
"Welcome everyone. This is a very special night. Since the beginning of our great race, we have been waiting for this moment. The moment our species can finally dream of being free. At long last, the Chain Breaker has come into her power and will join us in our fight for freedom!"
I freeze as all eyes fall on me. Chain Breaker? What the hell? I shoot Gray a look, but he’s just as surprised as me. He glances over, studying me as if seeing me through new eyes.
"Emerson," Nikolay says, turning to me and raising his glass. "On behalf of the Silver Ridge Pack, and werewolves everywhere, welcome. It's been a long time coming."
“To the Chain Breaker!” he shouts, throwing his shot back.
“The Chain Breaker!” The shout of dozens of voices echoes through the room as everyone else follows suit.
Before I can even begin to make sense of Nikolay’s bizarre speech, a flash of metal catches my eye. Nikolay drags a dagger across his inner forearm. Blood wells up, crimson droplets spattering the white table cloth below.
Nikolay angles his forearm over an ornate silver goblet, letting his blood flow into it. Within seconds, the wound closes, leaving only a red smear across his arm.
Leaning across Gray, Nikolay hands me the goblet.
I stare into its ruby-tinted depths, stomach clenching.
“Drink, Emerson,” Nikolay commands.
My gaze shoots to Gray. *What the hell is this?*
Below, all eyes are on me.
*He’s inducting you into the pack, luna.*
*By forcing me to drink his blood?*
The coppery scent wafting up from the goblet nearly makes me gag. Nikolay narrows his eyes, waiting. Sweat gathers on the back of my neck. Memories of shadowy figures flash through my mind. Ropes cutting into my wrists. Caroline standing over me, dagger raised.
They saved me from Caroline, just to force me into a blood bond themselves? I won’t do it. I won’t blood-bond myself to Nikolay.
*It’s not a blood bond,* Madelyn says, reading my thoughts. *At least, not the kind you’re thinking of. It won’t give him control over you or your abilities. All members of the pack ingest the blood of the Alpha. It bonds the pack together, allowing you to communicate with one another across vast distances when in your wolf form. Without it, you would only be able to speak with the rest of the pack when in close proximity.*
*That’s fine by me,* I say. *I’m not drinking anyone’s blood. Long-distance communication is over-rated anyway.*
*The blood connection with the Alpha is also the only thing that can keep you from going feral. Without it, your wolf will have no anchor.*
I wrinkle my nose. Damn it. Why didn’t anyone warn me I’d have to drink blood at this dinner? I glance at Madelyn. She calmly returns my gaze.
*Bottoms up, luna,* Gray says, winking. *It’s only one swallow, then you can burn the taste out with vodka.*
*This is the only way for me to join the pack?* I ask Gray.
*It is. We’ve all done it.*
*What if I want to leave? What if, after getting control of my wolf, I want to leave or join a different pack? Can the bond be undone?*
*It can be undone,* he answers slowly, as if weighing his words. *It’s not uncommon for weres’ to transfer to another pack. When they do, there’s a simple ritual they use to sever the bond so they’re no longer part of the pack. But you should know, once you join the pack, you’ll need Nikolay’s permission to transfer to another one, if that’s what you want to do.*
This gives me pause. I assumed that after I gained control I would be free to go back home. But after Nikolay’s speech about the ‘Chain Breaker’, I don’t imagine he’d let me leave so easily. At least, not until I found a way to break the curse...
*Is there no other way to keep from going feral?*
*None that I know of, luna. The pack bonds are what keep our wolves balanced.*
There’s no choice then. It’s either join the pack or let them kill me.
Grimacing, I upend the goblet and drain the contents.
The rich flavor explodes on my tongue, unsettling me. Heat envelopes my mouth, sliding down my throat, expanding in my chest until every part of me feels feverish.
“Blood of the Alpha, blood of the pack,” Nikolay says formally. “Emerson McByrne, Silver Ridge welcomes you.”
“Blood of the Alpha, blood of the pack!” everyone echoes. The room explodes with whoops, cheers, fists pounding tables. Amid the pandemonium waiters begin distributing giant silver trays along the tables; plates of mouthwatering steak, gazed chicken, roast duck... more food
than I've ever seen in my life.
Despite my grumbling stomach, I turn to Gray, ignoring the heaps of food. "What the hell was all that Chain Breaker stuff?”
He looks over at Nikolay, right eyebrow rising sardonically. "That's what I'd like to know. Chain Breaker? Really? Why would you bring up that old superstition? Did you think the pack wouldn't accept her otherwise?"
"It is not a superstition," Ivan answers in a rough Russian accent. "It is a prophecy." He thumps his fist down on the table to emphasize his point.
Gray rolls his eyes, reaching for a large hunk of chicken in a bourbon glaze sauce. "The packs have been searching for this supposed 'Chain Breaker' for hundreds of years, and no one has ever even gotten confirmation that it exists, let alone found it."
"Until now," Nikolay says, meeting Gray's eyes squarely.
"Do one of you want to explain what the hell you’re talking about?" I interrupt.
Nikolay fixes me with a cold gaze. "It's an old legend among the packs," he explains. "One that dates back hundreds of years and has been passed down from Alpha to Alpha, ever since the Great War.
“According to legend, during the War a witch from the Messenger Class was captured by a pack. They were holding her… questioning her… in order to find the locations of other witches in the area.” The way he says ‘questioning’, I assume he means ‘torturing’. “While there, this witch had a prophecy. It spoke of the Chain Breaker who would be born; a descendant of both Morrigan and Odin, from the blood of both witch and were’. This Chain Breaker would hold the ability to break the werewolves’ curse, forever freeing us from the witches' power. Never again could we be controlled by Morrigan's descendants.”
"And you think I'm this Chain Breaker? That I can somehow free the packs from the curse Brannagh put on you?"
I laugh, though nothing about this is funny. First Caroline thinks I'm the Changeling, destined to help her and the rest of the witches triumph over the werewolves, now this pack thinks I'm here to free them instead? This is madness. How can I be either of these? I only came into my powers a little over a month ago, and suddenly people expect me to put an end to a war that has been raging since the time of the first werewolf and break a thousand-year-old curse to free an entire species from slavery?