by G. Bailey
She opens the door again, but I have to blurt out one more question.
“Will the forbidden god I’m now bound to because he saved my life ask for something?”
She looks back. “The price is simple. You belong to the pack until your last breath.”
Saffron leaves me with more questions than answers, but somehow making me feel a little better about what the alphas want with me. They don’t scare me half as much as the idea of going back to the Ravensword Pack, that’s for sure, and the alphas can’t be that evil if they took in Trey. I can see he is a cheerful kid, even if he reminds me of Jesper and how I can’t ever see him again.
Pushing the sadness aside, I walk to the edge of the bathtub and drift my fingers over the hot water before pushing off what is left of my dress and leaving it in a pile with the yellow blanket. The bathtub is high, so I have to push myself up to climb into it and sink into the relaxing hot water. I duck my head underneath it and come back up with a gasp, smiling to myself about the small luxuries of hot bathwater. Sometimes at the foster house, the boiling water and electricity would go out for weeks at a time, and this bath reminds of those first few days they were back on. How it’s perfect. Finding a soap bar on the side of the bath, I wash myself and my hair until the water is brown instead of pink.
I don’t stay in long before getting out and wrapping myself in a towel and going to the mirror. Somehow I bend myself to the side in an awkward angle to see the moon marks on my neck and upper back, but the sight of them shocks me. The full moon is on my neck, followed by a half-moon, a crescent moon, and then back to a full moon once more. The markings, very much like tattoos I’ve seen wolves in the pack get, are made with black ink and slightly risen. Suddenly Alpha Sylvester Ravensword’s last words to me come back like a haunting dream.
“Die like you should have so many years ago, because if the sea does not take you, I will know. I will know, and I will never stop sending wolves to kill you.”
I drop my hair back down and turn away from the mirror, trying to control my shaking hands and looking around for a distraction from my thoughts about the alpha of my old pack. I have to believe he can’t know I’m alive and he won’t send anyone after me...or this is all pointless. I might as well have died in the sea.
My eyes catch on a pile of clothes, and I walk over, picking the pile up. A soft white T-shirt, plain cotton underwear, a bra, and jeans with socks. I pull all the clothes on, finding the jeans are a little too tight and the top is too big, hanging down to my thighs. I pull it up and tuck it in the jeans before pulling the socks on. After running my fingers through my hair and drying it the best I can with a towel, I leave the bathroom and go down the stairs to see Saffron sitting on the sofa with Alpha Ragnar on her other side, but Trey is nowhere to be seen. Ragnar looks up when one of the stair boards creaks, and I hurry down to the bottom step. Saffron nods at me, and I smile at her.
“Thank you for the clothes and for looking after me. Is there anything I can do for you in return?” I question, and it makes her smile. She shakes her head.
“You’re kind, but no. See the pack, I’m sure you will like it,” she answers and turns to Ragnar. “I will bring Trey back home in a few hours.”
“You’re brilliant, Saffron,” Ragnar tells her with a big smile and pats her shoulder. She nods to him before he walks over to me, picking up a familiar pair of boots. “I found these on the beach a few miles away from where Henderson said he found you.”
“Thank you!” I say, happily taking them. “How did you know they were mine?”
“My wolf scented them,” he answers. “They smell like you, of course.”
I chuckle as I pull my boots on and notice they have been cleaned and polished. Not a bit of sand is in them, and they aren’t wet. Someone has even replaced the worn laces I used to have on here. “Thank you for finding them and fixing them.”
“No problem,” he replies, rubbing the back of his neck. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” I answer, feeling more than a little nervous but excited to see the pack lands. There were never photos in books or anything to show us what the pack lands look like over here in what used to be Ireland, and I’ve only ever seen the island in the distance from the shores of Wales. A bigger part of me is nothing but nervous about what changes there will be to pack life, where I will live and how I will be treated. I’m pretty used to being the outcast of the pack, the one no one wants, I know how to handle that.
Just not anything else.
Ragnar walks down the steps with me at his side, but his enormous feet take the steps two at a time, and he reaches the bottom much quicker than I could. At the bottom of the steps, on the sand, is a strange sort of car. It has gigantic wheels, a white frame attached to it, but no doors at all, just glass panels at the front and back of the two seats. The frame is white and shiny, and clearly it’s well looked after. I’ve seen things like these in human movies, but it’s not the same, therefore I have no clue what to call it.
“I made it myself. I call her Daisy,” Ragnar tells me, and I might not know him at all, but I sense the pride in his voice. “I’ve always loved to tinker with humans’ car machines and make new things. Daisy is my more reliable invention.”
“Why is she called Daisy? Like the flowers?” I ask.
“Daisies are technically a weed that looks like flowers, and my Daisy is technically a lot of broken parts pieced together to make something amazing,” he replies, patting the shell of the car thing. “Ready for a ride?”
I nod and step up, realising a little too late it’s pretty high. I stumble back, but instead of falling on my ass, Ragnar’s hands go to my waist, catching me, and burning heat spreads through my skin where his hands touch. My cheeks burn as he helps me into the passenger seat, and I tuck my hair behind my ears as I look away. He says nothing as he effortlessly jumps into the seat next to me, his arm brushing against mine, and the same burst of heat makes me shiver from the small contact. He makes me feel…alive? I’m not sure what to think about how he makes me feel. It’s not something I’ve ever really felt before.
Ragnar looks down at me, everything about him expressing warmth and reminding me of the heat of a fire when you’re too close. “Welcome to the Fall Mountain Pack, Mai. You’re finally home.”
“Slieve Donard is the old name of this mountain, and most still call it that, but mostly it is referred to as Slieve City because of the city we have built inside of the mountain and around it,” Ragnar explains to me as we drive through thick forest, on roads that are nothing more than dirt lined with logs to mark the path. The only light trickles down through the bulky leaves, and the oddly grown branches cast so many shadows across the forest floor. I can smell nothing but pine and how Ragnar smells like bacon, which I assume he had for breakfast, and a subtle spicy scent with a woodsy sexy mix to it that I know is all him. And he smells too good. Carefully, I tilt my head away from the forest to take in Ragnar, looking him over from head to toe. His firm hands grip the steering wheel in a relaxed way, but his muscles are still tense in his arms. Most of the guys in my old pack were muscular, and I never once found it as attractive as I do right in this moment. Damn, the alphas of Fall Mountain Pack are hot.
“Mai, are you still listening to me?” he asks, taking his eyes off the road for a second to look at me. His blue eyes remind me of the colour of midnight.
“Sorry, I checked out. What did you say?”
He gives me a knowing smile, but he doesn’t comment on my staring. “I said that there is only one city on the island and four other large towns. We live in the mountain, and we would like for you to live with us. If you agree, of course.”
“Why do I get the feeling it really isn’t a choice?”
He sighs, slowing down a little bit. “It is a choice. We won’t force you into living with us, but you must know pack law. Anyone could challenge you and kill you for being different and not being able to shift yet. Henderson is working on Silas so he will give you
permission and you can shift. That will deal with half the problem. The other half is the fact that here there are two types of challenges. One is a weapon challenge.”
“We don’t have that in my—”
“Your old pack,” he growls out, interrupting me.
I shake my head, pulling myself away from him a little, and he swears under his breath. “Shit, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I’m used to alpha wolves being dickheads. Don’t worry about it,” I snap.
“No, my anger was directed at your old pack and not at you. If I had my way, we would announce war and challenge your old alpha for his pack. And take it,” he tells me, turning to look at me once more. I see the apology in his eyes, and it makes me hesitant to be mad at him for long. I can understand his point of view; he has seen so many rejected apparently and hears what happened to them. He must know what happened to me at my mating ceremony.
“Okay,” I say, deciding to leave this subject for now. “I was saying I don’t know what a weapon challenge is.”
“You get one weapon, and you aren’t allowed to shift. The challenge takes place on circled areas where you can’t shift due to the magic in them,” he tells me. “Therefore, you need training before we let you go into the pack.”
“Does every rejected get training?”
“If they’re old enough, yes, but usually with a beta,” he honestly replies.
“Then why can’t I live with one of your betas?”
“They are all busy,” he replies quickly. Too quickly. I want to call him out on it, but I realise what is the point? I would be safer at the alphas’ house for a short amount of time so I can train and then find my place.
“It will only be for a short amount of time,” I counter.
He nods. “Whatever you want, Mai.”
“No one has ever called me that nickname before…I kinda like it,” I tell him, looking at his short black hair and how it almost has a dark blue shine to it in the beams of light that escape through the trees. Ragnar looks over at me, and I get the impression he wants to say something, but it’s gone too quickly, and he turns away. I lean back in my seat just as we come around a corner and straight into the city that was just here and gone in a second.
The city is picturesque in a way I didn’t expect.
Tall cherry blossom trees line the light brown stone high street with dozens of five-story wooden houses with slate roofs on either side. In the middle of them are low gated gardens with children and wolves in them, their laughs echoing around in the wind that blows pink cherry blossom petals in the air. Wolves run down the street pathways, dodging through people who turn to look at us, and they all look so similarly dressed to my pack, a mixture of cloaks and jeans, T-shirts and some posh dresses here and there. But there are so many hair colours, not all of them are black-haired or brown-haired, there are some redheads and blonde-haired people walking around.
I will not stand out anymore. I turn back to see the road go up into a massive cavern opening with a border made of gold. Warm light shines from inside the cavern as Ragnar drives up the road and over the hill onto the flat surface right outside of the cavern, and we head inside where the view takes my breath away.
All the way from the base of the mountain to the tip are levels of houses built into the inside of the cliff with bridges in the middle that connect all the layers, and stairs in the middle that are made of stone, in one massive twirling staircase that could easily fit twenty people in a row to walk up together.
“I hate to say, this bit is bumpy. Hold on,” Ragnar warns me as he drives right to the staircase, people moving out of the way for him and waving like it is normal for him to drive so quickly and treat people like bowling pins that need to move for him. I grab the sides of the seat as Ragnar drives the car up the staircase, and the car bounces up and down as we go up fast, people just moving to the sides. We pass five different exits on the stairs, but he never turns off them.
“D-do you do this o-often?” I blurt out, and in return I only get a laugh for a moment. A really sexy, deep laugh that makes all of me seem to burst to life.
His dark blue eyes meet mine for a single second. “Live a little, Mai!”
I smile and that turns into a chuckle as we keep going round and round until we finally come up to hefty gold metal gates at the top of the staircase, which slowly open. The tips of the gates are trees, so many of them it looks like a mini forest, and when the gates fully open, I see there are more actual trees inside of the mountain. The top level of the mountain is one big area with a massive Georgian style house in the middle and a forest of trees, gardens of grass and flower borders, and a big stone path right down the middle of it, diverging off to the sides and the main house.
I spot two small buildings in the trees, one of which looks like an enormous garage. Ragnar drives Daisy down the stone driveway. The crunching of the stones under the tires is all I hear, and I look back to see the gates slowly shutting behind me. I’m here now, and I might as well make the most of what life has given to me. I have zero plans for the future, mostly because I thought I wouldn’t get one after the mating ceremony, and now I can actually make plans. A part of me knows I can actually have some kind of life once I know how to defend myself and shift into my wolf.
Ragnar pulls Daisy up in front of the house, and I undo my seatbelt and climb out, which is easier than climbing in. I look up at the big intimidating house in front of me and take a deep breath.
Everything is going to be okay if I can survive the next few weeks with the crazy alpha four.
The door slams open, and the sweetest looking woman I’ve seen walks out.
“I thought you only brought bitches back here on the full moon for one night? Have the rules changed?”
The sweet woman, wolf, doesn’t match the not so friendly way she just called me a bitch, and I’m a little taken back by her. She has light red curly hair that is in two plaits that fall to her stomach, with tiny red silver wolf clips holding them together. She has a short black top on, black leather pants that are very tight, and she really does have a sweet face. On her back are two daggers, but I can only see the sharp tips on either side of her head. The woman arches her eyebrow at me, her green eyes showing me she is not sweet, not even one little bit. This is exactly why I was told never to judge a book by its cover.
“Mai, this is Seraphim Fall, our lead beta wolf, and I would say she isn’t so rude, but she is,” Ragnar introduces us.
“What kind of name is Mai?” she asks, cocking her head to the side and placing her hands on her hips. “In fact, who is she and why is she here?”
“Since when do I have to tell you shit?”
“Since the fact none of you lot could cope without me, that’s why,” she counters with a smile, which ends with them both laughing. I, on the other hand, am just confused.
“Women can’t be betas. That’s never happened before,” I blurt out.
Seraphim sighs. “I get it, she is a reject.”
“Mai is now in our pack, and I expect you to treat her as such. She is living with us,” Ragnar firmly replies, his eyes narrowed at Seraphim. He didn’t like her calling me a reject. A small part of me warms at being defended, because there are only a handful of people that have ever defended me before. Seraphim opens her mouth to say something, but Ragnar interrupts. “And”—Ragnar looks down at me—“we allow anyone who proves they are the best fighters, both in wolf and human form, to be beta. Seraphim is a deadly fighter, and her wolf is stronger than half the males in our pack. It may not be an accepted way in the Ravensword Pack, but here, we respect true strength, and Seraphim has earned her place. Just like any wolf could, even you.”
“I respect that,” I answer and turn to Seraphim. “It’s nice to meet you, Beta Seraphim. Maybe if the Ravensword Pack had more females in charge, it wouldn’t be so bad there.”
She flashes me a smile full of malice. “I know how Ravensword works. I used to live there until I was rejected
for loving someone who wasn’t chosen for me. A girl, to be exact. Ravensword and the moon goddess don’t let you love openly, and they threw me away, never checking how strong I would be.”
I meet her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“As I am for whatever the messed up pack put you through. Trust me, it’s better here. More than better. You can breathe now,” she suggests and walks right up to me. “I’ll be around.” She looks to Ragnar. “Eleline is here, in the living room. Good luck with that.”
Ragnar mutters under his breath and walks to the house, looking back to me when I haven’t moved. “Are you coming?”
“Who is Eleline?” I question, moving to his side.
“An ex-girlfriend who keeps turning up,” he admits, shrugging his shoulders.
“So you don’t just bring women back on the full moon for sex?”
He jolts in the doorway and looks down at me. He tilts his head to the side. “And what would you know about that? Ravensword doesn’t let females have sex before mating.”
I gulp, the pressure a little too much under his gaze. “I know too much.”
His eyes search mine, and I try to hide the turmoil going on inside, but I think he sees it. I think he sees me for a brief second. A stranger figuring out my secrets, figuring out everything that has broken me in my life.
“Who is she?” A high-pitched voice makes me jump away from Ragnar, but he doesn’t move for a second, and I realise right away he is angry. His entire body shakes with it, and he closes his eyes for a few seconds as I turn to the woman. Eleline, I am guessing. She is staring at me, her hands on her small bare waist right above the tiny red skirt she has on. Nothing but a strap of fabric is wrapped around her breasts, and her blonde hair is darker than mine but cut short under her chin. Her eyes are a light brown but currently narrowed on me like I’m evil.