by C. Larsen
"Why would he be sad about his birthday?"
Gray hesitates. "Because he's turning ten. He should be going to school, but Nikolay wants him to wait a couple more years. He's not thrilled about it..."
"Oh, yeah. He mentioned that before. Don't worry, I'll let him win at hide and seek. That always cheers him up."
"You'll 'let him' win, huh?"
I give him a mock glare. "Of course. You don't think I've actually been losing to a ten-year-old, do you?"
Gray laughs at my bold-faced lie. "Of course not, luna. Whatever you have to tell yourself."
We stand there for a few moments, tension thick in the air.
"About last night..." Gray starts.
Before he can let me down easy, I blurt out, "It was a mistake."
"A mistake?"
"Yeah." I shrug my shoulders and try to act nonchalant. "We'd both been drinking. It was fun at the time, but it was a mistake."
"You had two sips of vodka. You're telling me you hooked up with me because you were drunk?"
"Well, no, not drunk. Last night was fun, but it didn't mean anything."
"Wow." Gray's eyebrows are practically in his hairline and he takes a step back as if physically pushed. "So that's what this is like..."
"What?"
"I've just never been on the receiving end of this conversation. It sucks more than I thought it would."
"Had this conversation a lot, huh?" I try not to let him see how much that hurts. "I guess I beat you to it this time."
"Beat me to it? Is that what you think I was going to say? That last night didn’t mean anything? That you don’t mean anything to me?” He shakes his head, disbelief clear in his eyes.
His question confuses me. “Look Gray, there’s no reason to pretend this is more than it is. I know all that flirting from before was just to get me to come to Ashwood and join the pack. Just because we hooked up last night doesn’t mean you need to pretend to feel something for me you don’t. It’s fine. Really.”
His mouth falls open, eyes blazing. “You think I pretended to like you to trick you into coming here?” For the first time, he looks angry.
“Well…” My cheeks turn warm. “I just assumed, since your attraction to me seemed to end as soon as I got here and joined the pack…”
“I’ve wanted you since I first stumbled on you sneaking around Madelyn’s house months ago, and I still want you. Don’t you remember what I said during dinner your first night here? You needed time to get over Caiden. I told you I’d wait. That I’d be here when you were ready.
“Last night, you seemed pretty ready. If that’s not the case, if you need more time, or you just aren’t interested, that’s fine. Just tell me. But if you’re turning me down because you’re afraid that I don’t want you—that’s crazy.”
I stare at him, at a loss for words. He wants me? Alright, I guess that was obvious last night. But that still doesn’t mean last night meant anything to him but a good time.
“Look, Gray, I'm sure you've been with half the girls in the pack. I had fun last night, but I'm not interested in being just another notch in your belt."
"A notch on my belt?" His eyes flash with anger.
I narrow my eyes, refusing to back down. His enticing woodsy scent takes on the harsh, charred flavor of his pique. We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, tension, thick and electric between us.
“Am I?” I ask, desperately needing an answer. “Just another notch on your belt?” I clarify. My heart thuds in my chest, hands clenching at my sides as I stare up at him.
His face softens and he sighs, shaking his head. "Of course not. I wasn't messing with you when I said I’m drawn to you like I am the moon. You have some sort of gravitational pull on me, and I can't shake it. Hell, I don't want to shake it. Is it so hard to believe that I want you for more than just sex? That I actually like you, like talking to you, like spending time with you? Hell, just being near you makes me happier than I've been in a long time. Maybe ever."
My mouth opens, but no snappy retort immediately comes to my lips. I look at him, expecting him to laugh, to say he's joking, that of course he only wants to get me into bed. But he doesn't. He leans against the doorjamb, watching me, waiting for a response.
What am I supposed to say to that? I don’t think anyone’s ever said that they like talking to me or spending time with me, that just being near me makes them happy.
Sebastian and I didn't do much talking, to be honest, and when we did, it was never about anything serious. Me and Caiden talked, but did I make him happy? We had some moments that were fun, like the first time we took my new BMW for a drive, or that afternoon we spent at the Halloween Festival, watching the Connecticut Cowboys and sipping hot cider. But most of our relationship—if you could even call it that—was a roller coaster, full of highs, followed by extreme lows. I certainly seemed to piss him off more often than not. I'm not sure he was ever really happy being around me...
Gray's still watching me, waiting for a response. I try to focus, to sort out my feelings for him. Am I attracted to him? Sure, but I can't imagine any female in the universe who wouldn't be. Do I like spending time with him? Talking to him? Does he make me happy?
Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean I'm ready to be in any sort of relationship with him. I'm not ready to risk the pain I know will be waiting for me when I find out he was only saying all this under orders, trying to keep the 'Chain Breaker' under the pack's thumb.
"I like spending time with you, too," I say. It sounds lame after his heartfelt speech, but it's all I can come up with.
"Well, that's a start." He grins.
"But Gray—"
"No, don't say anything yet." His smile becomes fixed, as if he knows I'm about to turn him down. "What happened last night... it was amazing. At least, for me it was. I want to be with you. I want to see where this goes. Just...just think about it."
"What about Isabel?"
"What about her?"
"Aren't you and her…together?"
"What?" He looks genuinely affronted. "Of course not. I wouldn't have kissed you if I was with her. We used to date, but it was never serious. Me and Isabel have been over for a while now."
"That's not what Zak seems to think."
"Zak likes to cause trouble. If you don't want to take my word for it, ask her yourself. She'll tell you the same thing. Whatever we had is over. It's in the past. I'm only interested in you."
"Gray, I—"
"Just think it about it, Ems. Take as long as you need. I'm not going anywhere."
I bite my lip, head spinning. This isn't how I envisioned this conversation going. I figured we'd laugh about the incident from last night, or he'd make some over-the-top pass at me that I could laugh off. I wasn't expecting him to suddenly declare his feelings for me.
We stand there for a few moments, just watching each other.
"Don't you have to go?" I finally ask.
"Yeah. Nikolay's probably pitching a fit."
"Be careful."
Gray nods and steps back, a bit disappointed, as if he was hoping for something else.
"I hope you don't find him."
"Yeah. Me too."
Chapter 22
After getting ready for the day, I head downstairs for breakfast. Eating in the informal dining room, I'm glad the room is empty because my head is in a fog. I can't stop replaying my conversation with Gray over and over.
I know he can't be serious. I mean, he's been flirting outrageously since he first followed me to Haven Hollow, before I even knew who or what he really was. I thought at the time he was just messing with me, but what if he wasn't? Could he have had feelings for me from the beginning? Is he truly ‘drawn to me like the moon’?
I snort. Right. He was just trying to get me to come back with him to his pack so I could be their Chain Breaker. He just wanted something from me, just like everyone else.
I force my mind away from these thoughts and focus on my food. I
'm going to need the fuel if I'm playing hide and seek with Max all day. That kid has a ridiculous amount of energy.
I hear someone enter behind me. My breath stops when my wolf identifies his scent. What the hell is Ivan doing here? He never eats breakfast in here.
I haven't seen much of Ivan since that first dinner when he stormed out, and any time our paths do cross, the look he gives me sends me scurrying off in another direction, any direction, to get away from him.
I try not to cringe when he takes the chair next to mine.
"Emerson," Ivan says, his unsettling eyes staring unblinkingly at me.
"Ivan," I reply, automatically dipping my head to acknowledge his dominance.
"I've been meaning to talk to you," he says, voice softer than I’ve ever heard it.
"Oh?" I keep my eyes on my plate, my wolf going on high alert.
"You remember the prophecy Nikolay mentioned when you first arrived, yes?" he says in his thick Russian accent.
"Yes."
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"What do you know about it?"
I shrug my shoulders, uneasy about where this is going. "All I know is that your pack believes that I'm this Chain Breaker from the legends and you think I can somehow free the werewolves from Brannagh's curse."
The back of my neck prickles as he stares at me. "And that's it? You’ve heard nothing else?"
His crooning voice makes my hackles rise. I shake my head, not meeting his eyes.
"Your old coven, they said nothing about this?"
My old coven? Is he talking about the Changeling prophecy? Shit. What does he know about Lydia? About Caroline? Does he know I’m hiding something from him?
Shit, shit, shit. This is not a wolf I want to piss off.
"Not much," I answer, keeping my voice nonchalant, though I know he can hear my pounding heart, smell the fear and anxiety pouring off me. "One of the witches from my coven mentioned a prophecy about the Changeling, but if the coven understood what it meant, they didn't tell me."
"Hmm," he says, still watching me. "And what did this prophecy say?"
I frantically rack my brain. If I tell him, could he use that information to hurt me or the coven? The way he's looking at me right now, I think he already knows what the prophecy says. He's just testing me, seeing if I'll lie about it.
"She said, 'The Great War has been renewed, resurrected from ancient blood feud. Darkness unfurls on Raven's wings, death and destruction with it brings. Only the Changeling guards against doom, All Father's seed in Dark Mother's womb." I quote the whole thing to him, word for word, only leaving out the last line of the prophecy, 'To bring an end to the feud requires a price, blood to be paid in sacrifice'. That isn't something I want Ivan puzzling over, especially if he believes I'm the Changeling. “I don't know what it means, or who the Changeling is," I say, which isn't precisely the truth, but not far from it.
Since I first heard this prophecy, I've puzzled over the meaning, trying to make heads or tails of it. As far as I can figure, the 'Great War', is the battle between witches and werewolves, which would be the 'ancient blood feud'. And according to the rising tensions in the nearby packs and covens, it does seem to be starting again.
Somehow the Changeling is supposed to stop the war, but I don't know how, or even if I really am this Changeling. No one can offer any proof for this, any more than they can prove I'm the Chain Breaker. But I have a feeling Ivan doesn't much care about proof. Suspicion is enough for him.
Just like suspicion was enough for Caroline. She believed I was this Changeling. She's from the Messenger Class, just like Lydia, and received the same prophecy. But Caroline also said Lydia only received a portion of it. She never told me what the full prophecy was. Maybe she learned something that proved to her that I’m the one it names, I don’t know.
What I do know is that she tried to kill me over it. ‘Blood to be paid in sacrifice'. I guess she took that to mean she had to force me into a blood bond and then kill me to end the war. And I’m sure as hell not going to give Ivan any more ammunition against me. The last thing I want is this crazy werewolf to get the same notion into his head as Caroline.
I hold my breath, praying he won’t realize I held back a portion of the prophecy.
Ivan watches me, his cold gaze analyzing my every facial expression. "Did your coven ever say that you might be the Changeling?"
"Chain Breaker and Changeling?" I say with a scoff. "That's a lot of importance to lay on an insignificant half-breed like me."
"Half-breed..." A faraway look enters his eyes. "Yes, that's exactly what it means. 'All Father's seed in Dark Mother's womb.' Yes, you are indeed the Changeling, aren’t you?"
"Wh-what? How does that prove anything?"
"You are descended from Morrigan, no? That is where Madelyn's bloodline stems from. The 'Dark Mother'. And because of your werewolf blood, you are also a descendant of Odin, the 'All-Father'. All Father's seed in Dark Mother's womb. The Changeling must be a half-breed. Same as the Chain Breaker. And not just any half-breed, one from Morrigan's line."
The intensity of his stare raises my hackles. He looks as if he has just been handed a priceless gift and is already forming plans on how he'll use it.
Shit, shit, shit. I shouldn't have said anything. I assumed he already knew, but apparently not. Excitement gleams from his eyes, more unsettling than any look he’s given me thus far. Why the hell did I open my mouth? Why did I say anything about the prophecy?
I hear Grant and Max enter the dining room but I’m too unnerved to take my eyes off Ivan. My wolf creeps closer to the surface, on high alert for an attack.
Ivan hears Grant as well, and after another moment, he stands up and silently leaves the room.
Grant watches Ivan walk down the hallway, then turns to me, his eyes full of questions. I raise my eyebrows, widening my eyes in an 'I don't know' look. Grant studies me, then says, "Why don't we head out for some fresh air?" Where Ivan can't hear us, is the unspoken message.
"Yeah, I'm done here." I push away my half-eaten plate and hurry outside with Grant and Max.
When we're a safe distance away from the house, Grant asks, "Are you alright, Emerson?"
"Yeah, just weirded out. Ivan just scares the hell out of me."
"He does that to a lot of people," Grant says.
"Why is that? Why does he seem so different from the other werewolves I've met? With the others, you see their wolf peek out every now and then, when establishing dominance and stuff, but for the most part they’re human. But Ivan...it's like there is no human part. Like he's all wolf..." I don't know if I am explaining myself coherently, but Grant nods his head in understanding.
"Ivan is very old," he says by way of explanation. "For most werewolves, our wolf becomes integrated into our human half. Our human half is in control most of the time. But for some, the wolf remains dominant and the human gets integrated into the wolf." Max walks next to his dad, eyes wide, listening intently.
"In Ivan's case, the human takes a back seat to the wolf. His wolf makes the decisions, and the human only intercedes enough to keep him from going feral."
"Isn't that dangerous?" I ask. "Allowing your wolf that much latitude?”
"It can be," Grant answers. "But his wolf's ruthlessness is one of the reasons he's been able to stay Alpha of his pack so long, despite his age."
"Ivan is Alpha of his own pack in Russia, right?” Grant nods. “What is he doing here?"
"Most of us were originally part of Ivan's pack. But fifty or so years ago Ivan decided it was time Nikolay ran his own pack. He sent him to the US, where there were fewer packs and more territory. Me, Vasily and several others volunteered to go with him. We thought things here might be different; Nikolay isn't as brutal as his father," Grant says, looking away. "And things are different, most of the time. But Ivan still likes to maintain control. He usually visits a couple of times a year, to keep an eye on things."
"How long does he stay fo
r?"
"He's been here longer than usual."
"When he's here, who runs the pack? Nikolay or Ivan?"
"Nikolay is Alpha of Silver Ridge," Grant says, but he hesitates. I can tell he wants to say more, but he closes his mouth, glancing at Max. He clearly doesn’t want to say any more in front of him, so I let the subject drop.
I ask him questions about Russia instead, about what it was like there, if he misses it. As he describes the place he grew up, his eyes grow warm and a small smile appears on his face, so unlike his normal stoicism. It's obvious he loves his home country, I wonder if he only left to get away from Ivan. I can't blame him. I would run halfway around the world to get away from him too...
"Is everyone in the pack originally from Russia?" I ask.
"No, not everyone. Maybe about half. Others have either been born here, like Gray, or decided to transfer into our pack from others."
"Does everyone speak Russian?"
"Most of us in the pack speak it. Those who were born in Russia teach it to our children, and those who joined the pack later on, well, after hearing the rest of us speak it for so many years, they pick up on enough of it to say and understand simple phrases."
"Hmm..." I think about my conversation with Gray this morning. "Do you know what lyubimaya means?"
"Lyubimaya?" Grant and Max share a look, both smiling. "Who's calling you lyubimaya?"
"I bet it's Gray," Max teases, eyes twinkling.
I feel my face heat. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything...
Finally, Grant takes pity on me. "It’s a term of endearment. Like ‘darling’ or ‘sweetheart'."
"Mmm," I answer noncommittally, keeping my eyes trained on the forest around us. “And ‘luna’ means ‘moon’, right?”
Grant nods, fighting a smile.
"How do you say 'sun' in Russian?" Gray's always teasing me with these crazy Russian expressions. Let's see how he likes being teased for a change.
Grant's smile gets even wider. "Moyo solnyshko," he answers. "That's the phrase you want."