Awakening: Book 1

by L. T. Marshall

  I’m afraid and I don’t believe anything he’s saying to me even if a logical pull is tugging from the recess of my mind. He stops, looks utterly hopeless and drops his eyes to the floor.

  “I know how it looks. I had to make you fight back, and I knew that was a surefire way. I had to see. This changes things Lorey, can’t you understand? Our packs are verging on a war where more than ever my mate has to be capable of standing by my side and fighting worse than us. You can absorb my gifts, which means you can absorb any that you come up against, turn them into something more powerful and use them with control. You were right when you said I made a choice and I did ... but this is how we change it. My father has to see that you’re not a black mark on our people if the fates gave you a gift like this. There’s hope that I can have them accept you into the pack and lay claim to what the fates ordained. You as my mate… as we always should have been...” The muscle twinge in his jaw, the flicker of his eyes on mine as he begs me to believe, has me spiraling.

  I shake my head at him, so consumed with mistrust, my mind a flurry of conflicting emotions, backing into a corner until I hit the edge of the bed. It startles me and I seem to snap out of my intense focus on him and look around for the first time, really seeing the room.

  It’s complete devastation; something worse than the carnage at the orphanage and I gasp as my eyes follow the gouges and claw marks running not just across floor, and walls, but ceilings too. There has been an epic battle in this room.

  Furniture splayed or tipped over, trashed, or just balancing precariously. The pictures on the wall either smashed to the floor or hanging lopsided, some clawed through where they hang. Everything is destroyed around us. All the bed sheets are strewn across the floor, most ripped and gashed, feathers floating in the air from cushions that no longer exist, and I crouch quickly to grab the nearest sheet to wrap it around myself. Concealing my body fast.

  “There’s one problem with that little ‘hope’… I don’t want you to ever touch me again.” I snarl out, penetrating him with my glare, a second wave of anger even though I’m beginning to see that maybe partially, he isn’t lying to me. He still made me believe he would, he scared me, I can’t be sure he would have stopped, and for that few seconds of panic before I blacked out, I was utterly afraid of him. You never do that to your bond.

  “You’re upset and angry with me. Baby, I would never do that, I swear on the bloodline of my pack. It was killing me to push you that far and I almost gave in because I couldn’t stomach hurting you like that. I had to see, I had to force your hand, and now look at you…. standing there, poised for a second round like a seasoned warrior. You weren’t that girl yesterday…. You’re changing. Coming into your true form and adapting as you do.” He looks almost proud and it tears through me, igniting the wrong bomb.

  “Changing??? I’m FUCKING furious with you!! I’m REACTING, because you’re a sick twisted bastard who laid his god damn hands on me in the worst kind of way. I can’t ever know for sure if you did stop. I only have your words! And nothing you say means shit to me now.” I scream it at him, not caring if everyone in this house hears me blow a fuse and go nuclear. What he’s done is unforgiveable. If we weren’t so far at this side of the house, I’m sure a dozen Santos would have been in here already, to see what the chaos and noise from this obvious battle zone was all about it.

  “You can trust me; I would never do anything to hurt you that way.” Colton goes for endearing and submissively calm. It’s the wrong thing to say entirely, and I’m already volcanic. He just makes me erupt.

  “TRUST?!?!?! Like I trusted the Santos to take care of their own when our people didn’t come home! Like I trusted you to stand for me and honor our bond when we were imprinted…. Like I trusted you to be alone with me in a fucking bedroom and not try to defile my fucking body! Trust, Colton? …. You’ve denied me, let me down more than once in our lifetime, you fall at every hurdle the second daddy says NO. Maybe Carmen has the right idea and you’re not someone I should ever trust. Look at how you discard women and pick them up as you fancy. You’re weak, you’re no Alpha. Always in your father’s shadow. You are the last wolf I would ever trust or choose to bond myself to. Not after this!!!” My words hit him hard and his face closes up, his muscles in his jaw tensing as his eyes dart to the floor, trying to conceal the wounds I just inflicted upon his heart, but I don’t care.

  He has never done anything to prove to me I can trust him and imprinting stupidly made me think I could. You don’t insult a male’s pride and ego, definitely not his strength. Especially not an Alpha, but Colton has not been a man for me, he’s been a boy doing what he’s told and denying what the fates asked of him.

  “Carmen slept with someone else, one of my own brothers of Santo. She said it was in heartbreak and anger, to make me feel the pain I inflicted on her. So no, I didn’t just discard her…. I had to swallow all of that and stick to my commitment. I made my choice, but she kept using us as a reason to punish me while conveniently forgetting her sins. Her jealousy and mistrust are her guilt. The imprinting didn’t make me indifferent to her… she did. She wasn’t fighting the bond or the lure of the fates as I was, she was trying to wound me and that Lorey, is something you never do to a mate. That’s why I can’t feel anything for her anymore. It’s why we’re not dating. After the forest, I found out, and since then I haven’t been able to feel anything but disdain for her.” His pained, low toned words silence me and my anger momentarily; not expecting that mouthful, or the knowledge a femme would betray a mate with his own pack brother.

  That’s all kinds of messed up and I can’t believe he is only telling me now. Even if his heart was no longer invested, an alphas pride and ego would have been crushed to have been played like that. His respect in the pack will be dented, especially if he never took out any act of revenge on his pack brother to balance the scales. By Lycanthrope law, he should have publicly shamed her, punished her and his pack brother. Instead he was still trying to fix everything.

  With my rage fizzing out and my logical brain easing in to calm my impulse to wreak havoc on him, I slump down onto the floor, completely exhausted and pull my ripped sheets around me in a bid to self-console. My head a blur of what he just said, some weird sympathy for him even, if I should be sill hating his very bones.

  “Show me… prove it… that you never….” I can’t look at him, the storm has blown out of my sails and I’m tired, but he knows what I’m asking, and he cautiously walks to me. Slowly and surely, keeping his eyes on me as though he expects me to turn and go for him at any second. I can sense his apprehension and that gives me a hint that maybe some of what he said was truth. Something made him afraid, something happened between us and he is taut and ready to defend himself if needs be.

  He reaches out when he gets close enough and touches his fingers to my temple, so gently it’s barely a graze of a touch as he slides down to his knees, bringing his mind to mine and projects the memory I am missing. I close my eyes and let it flood my mind.

  It’s as he says. After I blacked out there was a moment of pause, where he stopped, pulled my face to him from the cushions and looked over me, aware I was no longer responding. His voice laced in concern, asking if I was okay and trying to rouse me. Genuinely afraid he hurt me or pushed me too far and that maybe he had stopped me from being able to get air. He turned me over carefully, checked my breathing, leaned in, and tried to stroke my face to wake me, saying my name softly.

  It’s like I stopped and became vacant and there were long seconds of nothing from me. He released his hold on me, panic rising inside of him, afraid he had done something to me, checked my pulse, stroked my face again and tried to shake me, whispering my name softly. He didn’t do anything more to hurt me, just bring me round. When it looked like he started moving to pull me up to sit, so drenched in his concern, I completely exploded, transforming in a blink, like he woke the dormant beast.

  My wolf form seemed to combust from thin air, my ey
es snapped open, burning red with the rage of Lucifer and then all hell broke loose. Just like he said it did. I was in it for his blood. Relentless, and I don’t recognize myself in the memory.

  I cringe as the pictures and images show me wounding him in ways an average wolf would never have healed from. I was on him, after him, rolling around as he tried to battle me off, without actually trying to hurt me. Bit him, clawed him, savagely ripped at him, over, and over. I wouldn’t relent, and he was right. His power was no match for mine. He had to heal as fast as I inflicted savagery, just to stay breathing and I was a tornado of hatred who was not willing to stop. Delivering a thundering blow, eliciting a yelp from him, so high pitched it hurts even in memory, my ears wincing at the sound.

  My claws imbedding in his chest, an inch from his heart, which I guess is where I was aiming before my wolf gave up. Unable to stay in form when it’s still so new for me and takes so much stamina, I slumped onto the floor, all ability zapped out as I transformed back to girl, passing out in a careless huddle.

  Colton crawled from under me, sliding his torn body, yanking my talons from his chest, bleeding out and groaning as he struggled to the wall to turn and save himself. Where I awoke to find him, back as a man, recovering. That’s where my memory rejoins what I woke up to.

  I have no words, and when he lets me go and sits back on his haunches, I can feel the relief swarming my way that he knows I can’t deny what I saw. We can’t twist the memories or alter them; he didn’t lie to me at all. I saw for myself that what he said was true, I can’t deny it in any way. I sit in stunned silence and let it sink in, so hyper aware of his presence, sensitive, but emotionally all over the place and unsure how to feel.

  “Imagine what you could do when you harness it and are trained to fight.” His words are hushed, his hand coming up to touch my cheek gently and I flinch away from him. Still on high alert, and wary, but also submerged in shame at what I saw myself do. I didn’t recognize that wolf as any connection to me. She was feral and relentless, and insanely wild. This is why they never allow us to turn if we can’t control ourselves.

  “I could have killed you. I tried to kill you.” It’s uttered in broken shame, my voice shaking and raspy as it all filters through. Steeped in feelings of severe guilt. I can’t look at him, but he leans in, sliding his hand under my face softly, tilts my chin up and meets my eyes with his, a smile on that handsome face that shows no anger at what I did.

  “The fates wouldn’t give me a mate I can’t handle. Besides, if I died, you would have too, and we could have been together in the afterlife to carry on without all this drama.” That cheeky smirk hits his face, mixed with relief that I’m finally calming down, and a little too cocky that he’s winning me over. I can’t help the tiny ghost of a smile that twinges on my own lips, a little annoyed that he always seems to be able to draw me out like this. I have no words, and I as go to say something more, his face falls and that serious tone kicks in, cutting into our conversation hastily.

  “All wolves have been called to the great hall, immediately” He drops his hand from my jaw and jumps to his feet, all naked glory of him and I avert my eyes, suddenly aware of this fact and instantly shy. He has your typical alpha package going on and it’s not exactly easy not to look at. Generally, the males have something to be proud of and Colton is no exception. My face reddens, heat rising up my cheeks, and I huddle myself up, still recovering from this shitstorm we just put ourselves through and now blushing to my core because I ogled him completely starkers and realized he’s well endowed.

  I wait for him to leave, hoping to pull myself together with a little headspace and try not to also check out his ass, but he pauses when he sees I make no effort to follow.

  “That means you too…. my goal’s to have you initiated into this pack, Lorey. No matter what it takes. My father can’t keep denying us if you’re accepted. We need to have a plan…. steps to being together. I don’t want to keep going through the emptiness of the last weeks and denying this between us. What I said in the forest; I was wrong.” He shrugs as if he’s reciting some bland nothing of speeches and not literally altering everything I thought was happening in the last weeks of agonizing life.

  My eyes dart to him, shocked, yet not. Deep down I guess I knew this was his motive and his feelings on where we should end up. I’m just not so sure anymore. The words I said in anger still ring true and my heart is telling me that a bond should be stronger than his father’s command. Can’t shift that disappointment in him, because I feel like he was too quick to give me up.

  I’m a whirlwind of emotions and so much has happened in the last twelve hours that I need some time to let my brain catch up. I’ve been through trauma, changes, a whirlwind, and I need to process it all. I can’t tell which way is up, and I’m no longer in control of a single tiny thing in my own life. Not even where I’ll sleep tonight, let alone live tomorrow.

  “Come. Please. You can’t say here in this mess, and we need to get you some clothes.” He stretches his hand to me extending his palm outwards and I brush it away.

  “Why can’t you let me leave to figure this out of my own. This is the last place on earth I want to be.” Tears begin to fall as self-pity hits hard and I guess it’s because I’m physically and mentally exhausted too. This is not how I thought my life would go and from the day I turned, it’s been hell and heartache all rolled into one.

  He exhales heavily, frustrated with me, and yanks me to my feet with a forceful lunge at my arms instead. Pulling me up despite my refusal. Taking charge and not in the mood for arguments.

  “Listen to me. I need you to comply for a little while and we’ll figure this out, together. I don’t want you to go. When this settles I’ll go to the orphanage and pack up all your stuff, and we can talk out where we go from there; but right now, I need you to come with me and do as I say.” He has that edge to his voice I usually hear when he’s leading his pack around. It’s the don’t argue with me, commanding tone, of Prince. Santo.

  What else can I do. I’m technically a prisoner here, with nowhere else to go. I’m on my feet, with a persistent pain in my ass bossing me around, in a house full of people who hate me. I literally only have him on my side to depend on, and only because the fates forced it. I have nowhere else, and if I’m being honest with myself, everything is too messy, my gifts too new, and my mental state a little too on the fragile side to be thinking about going anywhere alone. So, I nod reluctantly.

  “Come on then. Stay close to me.” Colton turns and leads the way, sensing I don’t want or need him touching me and I do as he says. Staying right behind him, clutching my covering and wait while he grabs one, wrapping it on like a toga, and heads towards the door. If Carmen saw us now, naked with ripped bed sheets to cover our modesty, she would only assume the worst and I can’t imagine that going down well at all. Shuddering at the possibility she might see us.

  Within seconds we’re in the hall, moving along the wide passage in semi darkness, due to all the boarded up windows and lack of lighting and he leads onwards, following some turns and a flight of stairs until we get to the floor below. I was put on the top floor in the far end of the house, away from everyone, and now we seem to be on the third floor, in a brighter corridor with doors all bearing names, and keypads on each.

  Colton stops me with an arm, pushes me back around the corner we rounded and hushes me with a finger to my lips as two Santo pack members appear from a door opening, both walk out and head away from us, completely unaware of our presence. He makes us wait a second before leading the way again, halfway down the hall to the third door on the right and turns, using his hand on the pad, scanning his palm as it clicks open. His name’s on the door, so I guess this is his room.

  “Why are we hiding if you’re taking me downstairs anyway?” I ask blatantly, composing myself since leaving that room and he slides an arm around me and shuffles me into the darkened space, pulling me in and closing the door behind us with a last outwards c
heck of the hall. He walks off across the bedroom, towards a set of wooden doors in front of me, sliding them open to reveal wardrobes, and starts pulling out clothes in multiples of two. It’s dull in here thanks to boarded windows but light is shining through the cracks brightly now, illuminating enough, telling me daylight has come.

  I follow him, taking in the almost Scandinavian, Ikea style, and minimalism of his room. He likes space, and neatness, with very few items cluttering it up. Neutral tones, light woods, plants and lots of floor, and open calmness. It’s clean and airy and almost obsessively organized.

  “Carmen just needs to know I brought you in here and she’ll go nuclear. It’s best if I appear downstairs with you, where she’s contained, because frankly, my ears, and my head, can’t handle her gifts right now. She still thinks we have a future, and I need to talk to her about that.” He carries on focusing on clothes, his tone level as though he hasn’t just caused me pain with careless words.