Awakening: Book 1

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Awakening: Book 1 Page 42

by L. T. Marshall


  “Mom…. Is that really you? Can you hear me?” he sounds like a lost little boy, so young, and vulnerable, an aching rawness to his tone, and for a moment I forget my anger and nothing but compassion for him fills my heart. I can feel the way this has ripped his heart open, and his pulse is racing so speedily, mine starts to match it. Colton regresses ten years, and he’s just a boy finding his mom, whom he’s needed for so long, so much more than anyone could ever have known.

  “She’s sedated; the doc needs to wake her, but she doesn’t know what’s going on. Colton, you need to know…. there’s nothing wrong with her mind.” I point out, coming level with him, and resting my hand on his arm as he stares at her, eyes fixed on her face. His breathing is shallow, and the confusion and pain is evident under that furrowed brow, and glowing amber eyes. He can’t contain his emotion, so his wolf is showing. He swallows hard, reaches out lifting a strand of her hair and brushes it back gently, so carefully like she’s fine china, so fixated on her, like this is some kind of dream he doesn’t want to wake from.

  “How…… where?” his voice breaks, a harsh croak, and the doc seems to keep his distance to let me be the one to explain. It’s not an easy thing to tell a guy that the father he loved all this time is the reason his mother was imprisoned and put to sleep. I don’t even know how or where to begin, and I hesitate, looking to the doc, mildly panic stricken for a moment when it comes to me. The doc shrugs and nods at him, as though encouraging me. I think he’s a little intimidated by Colton to be fair, I mean he did threaten to kill him three minutes ago.

  I don’t need to tell him. I need to show him. It’s the only way I know how.

  “It’s a long story, I think maybe it’s better to do it this way. So you can see for yourself.” I whisper, reaching up and laying my fingertips on his temple and wait for his permission. Tensing as my touch seems so light and hesitant on him, that familiarity dragging me to draw closer. Colton nods, oblivious to me really, while his attention is on her, knowing I mean projecting my memories. I can’t blame him; he’s searched for her for so long, so no wonder she’s all he sees.

  I close my eyes and begin to push them his way, rifling through and trying to find a starting point as I drag them to the forefront. I decide on one, right from my decision to turn east and follow that path, to finding the facility, then being caught… Deacon, the doctor, the cell and finding Sierra, right until we got out and I linked Colton. I show him every second on that timeline, even how they kept her, and where, and hope it all filters in while he’s so distracted.

  I need to give him all of it, even the parts I’m afraid of him knowing, because I don’t have the words to tell him about his father, and I don’t have the strength to tell him about my family. Or that we’re both hybrids.

  Colton stands stock still, as it all plays in and he relives what I did in the past couple of days, seeing, hearing, learning everything I did. Feeling what I did and experiencing everything he must have felt from afar. In microseconds of time, the way transference works. Even the part I was most afraid of telling him…. that I’m a half breed vampire.

  I feel him close me out as soon as the images of the last memory fade away. Like a shutter coming down as he disconnects from me, and that wall of emotion blanking, pushes me away. It’s not something most wolves can do, especially to an imprinted bond, but Colton does it right now and shields me from everything he’s feeling in the moment and numbs me out. It’s an alpha gift, to shield loved ones from the pain and horror.

  It shocks me, hurts me a little too, but I don’t think he’s doing it to punish me. I think he’s doing it because he knows his own emotions are completely overwhelming and he doesn’t want to make me feel them too. He’s protecting me and pulling back so he doesn’t share what he’s experiencing. He stands, lets go of his mom’s hand and looks over my head at the doc, a glazed distant expression and not what I was expecting at all. A look of determination as that leader takes over and he stands that little bit taller, moving to take charge mode.

  “How long do you need before you can wake her?” There’s a coldness to his tone, a lack of feeling and I wonder if he has recoiled even from his own feelings, because it was too much for him, or if he is just really, really pissed. I honestly cannot tell, but there is a brewing storm in the air around him, even if he is shielding me. I guess finding out everything in your life was a lie, and the villain in your story is your own father, has to hurt as much as what I learned about what he did to my family.

  “A couple of days to bring her round fully, but she may take weeks to properly come to and recover enough to turn, there is no telling. She’s been asleep for a very long time, and I don’t know what kind of harm that has caused her.” The doctor looks helpless and I can tell he too doesn’t know how to react to Colton being so…. unemotional. It’s like he didn’t find his long-lost mother laid sedated in the back of a truck, and he’s absently directing some lost tourist on where to go next.

  “I’ll drive. You stay back here with my mom. The manor is another thirty minutes, minimum, and we need to get going before that asshole Deacon and his failure sub pack show up. I don’t want to be spilling blood in human territory.” That growl, a hint of anger, and I guess I feel a little smug about that. Colton might actually rip that jerk a new one after all. I honestly hope Deacon does show up, because I know my Santo will kick that Santo’s ass into next week, and I actually don’t mind letting him have that one. Watching will be as much joy as doing it.

  He doesn’t even look at me, just nods at the doctor to bolt the doors and then walks forward to the cab and climbs into the driver seat, smoothly, and fluidly, like he’s driven military medical trucks his whole life and doesn’t even blink an eye at it. Stopping and staring out the window at the assembled vehicles out there and I know he’s linking the pack to tell them to move. He’s issuing orders, and I follow and climb into the passenger seat, a little afloat with the sudden disconnect in him and unsure how to behave. This version is a Colton I don’t know, and even I feel like I should do what he says.

  I screw my eyes up at the trucks, counting maybe five, and way too many for the sub pack, unless they’re spread thinly among them, but can’t make out who’s driving at all. The headlights are screwing with my night vision and I can’t see anything but light glare when I try and look past them. I wonder if Meadow can see me, and I long for nothing more right now than to go hug her. She would get a hug; Colton can go to hell, well maybe not right now as he seems like he could probably use one.

  As soon as we hear the door lock get slid and clicked in place, he glances back to make sure the doc has pulled down one of the folding seats and strapped himself in before he moves us on. The fleet of vehicles roar into life and two stay back to let us pass and follow. So, we’re flanked, and Colton just focuses on driving. He positions us right in the middle of the other cars as though they’re escorting some sort of president. A precious cargo who needs their protection. I guess we are. The Luna is as important as the Alpha in a pack, she’s our Queen.

  My need to have him say something overpowers my need to be mad at him, and I reach out placing my hand on his bicep gently.

  “Are you okay?” I sound like that feeble girl from so long ago that imprinted on him, and not the person I’ve been growing into these past weeks. When faced with this guy, it seems I become a submissive, lovesick, fool, and I silently hate myself for it. Colton seems different too now though, as I sit and evaluate his profile in the light of the headlights shining back at us from the rear of the black four by four in front.

  He looks like Colton, still cute boy with dimples that are prominent whenever he moves his face in any in kind of way which could melt any grown ass women’s panties. Still handsome, dreamy, pretty boy face, with that air of cheeky confidence, but yet he seems older. More mature, maybe a slight aging that has him seeming less carefree, and high school jock, and somehow more capable and serious in a way he wasn’t before. There’s a darkness arou
nd him that was never there and without tapping into his feelings, I don’t know what it is. It’s more than just learning about his mother; it was there when he walked into me outside the truck. Colton’s carrying a weight and I want to know what. There’s a shift and it’s like some of his youthful light has gone out.

  “I don’t want to talk about this right now…I need to…. just let me be, Lorey. Just for a minute.” A petulant shrug of his arm so I stop touching him, and it’s like being scolded. An unexpected rebuff from the guy who just minutes ago hugged the life out of me with sheer need, and now I’m not allowed to touch him. I shouldn’t be upset. He’s hurt, he’s processing, and he’s in his own head, and it’s pretty hypocritical for me to be mad about that. I didn’t want him touching me, and that hasn’t changed.

  I try to link him, thinking maybe talking that way will help soothe him, away from the doc’s ears and he might be more open to being less cagey with his feelings but he has the door closed and I can’t get through at all. He’s literally locked me out in every way, and I don’t even know if this is normal behavior for him when he’s nursing pain, or if this is because he remembers I’m not his mate and he should only be sharing that space with her.

  Fuck you, Carmen. Fuck you, Colton.

  I hate that he can make me feel this way, a new storm swishing around inside of me and I have to stop myself from glaring at him. A new surge of conflicting pain and I resist the urge to slap him. I sit back in my chair and pull my legs under me, hauling my body in tight to self soothe, calm the torrent of crazy, and try not to stare at him, or throw shade. It’s hard when he’s right there, yet feels a thousand miles away, and my own emotions are in uproar. I can’t even pick a side and stick to it.

  I want to be mad at him and hate him, I have every right, but when he’s near I can’t stop this overwhelming pain and heartbreak he causes me, although right now, I’ve added compassion and empathy to that mix, and I’m dying inside for him. Even while cursing him. I want to ease his own pain and as stupid as it seems, I’m devastated he’s closing me out like it has nothing to do with me. I’m so confused at my idiot thoughts and responses.

  “Where are we going?” I utter it his way, unable to not say something to him, even though he said he doesn’t want to talk. I can’t sit in painful silence feeling like this. Colton exhales with a sigh that signals he’s not really into answering but compelled to do so.

  “To the manor I inherited from my mom. It’s someplace my father never had any control over. It’s where we’ve been staying these past weeks. Lorey, I told you, so much has changed.” Colton’s eyes flick my way, he frowns at me and sighs again, and then looks back at the road and doesn’t elaborate. I mean I get he’s currently working through some of his own shit in his mind, but an explanation would be nice. This minimal chat bull crap isn’t working for me.

  “Such as?” I push, locking my eye on him with a flash of stubborn and I can’t miss the way his whole-body tenses up. The exhale, frustrated grip on the steering wheel, because it’s obvious I’m not going to shut up and leave him alone, and that has him rolling his shoulders to relieve tension while he decides answering is inevitable.

  “The pack is divided. Half are here with me, the other at the mountain. There was a fight, when I challenged my father for leadership, and it got real messy. The people were turning and with more attacks in the west, he was becoming a dictator, forcing the people under his command, and treating them like they were all his prisoners. I had to do something, and he didn’t like it. He lost! …. I’m the rightful alpha of the Santo pack now, but instead of stepping down gracefully as the laws dictate, he ordered those loyal to him to take out me and mine.” It’s an exasperated tone, explaining something he clearly doesn’t want to, and it revs up that aura of closed off hostile around him. I gawp at him in wide eyed shock, heart thundering crazily, trying to really pull those words together. It hits me that while I was having my own existential crisis, so was he.

  “I don’t know what to say.” I stammer, side swept with that revelation of events, that I honestly never saw coming at all. That explains that cloak of darkness around Colton. Since I left his whole world has turned upside down, and his father already gave him reason to hate him, making my enlightening news somewhat less unbelievable. My memories only added fuel to his fire.

  “There’s nothing to say. My father tried to kill me. You were the catalyst, I guess… you leaving me, realizing that I was an idiot and lost the only thing that should have mattered. I failed you, and then a shit storm blew up around me with another vamp attack and life imploded. My father’s men are at war with his own people, still under threat of new vamp attacks. We’re scattered across the north and I have a sizeable chunk at my mom’s estate, hiding out, scared shitless.” there’s a calm sort of acceptance in his tone, as though he’s not okay, but this is his reality and he’s dealing with it in anyway he knows how.

  “Oh my god.” I feel sick, as bile rises in my throat, the levity of the situation finally coming through at me. I was an idiot to think that he’d been sitting twiddling his thumbs at the pack house while I’ve been gone. Everything is in uproar and he’s been in the middle of an actual war.

  “It’s not the same size as the manor by a long shot, it’s a homestead, and smaller, but it has land. It’s isolated from humans, surrounded by forests, and for now we’re managing to defend it pretty well. I’m more focused on keeping my people safe and giving them a place to rebuild, before I go chasing vampires and starting fights like my father seems to be doing. It’s all he cares about, and now knowing what you showed me… it makes fucking sense. The war were his glory days, he was a commander with an army who jumped to his orders, lording over a united race. I wouldn’t put it past him to somehow deliver a means to the vampires to rile it up again.” The anger simmers in his tone and it’s obvious Colton has been going through it as much as I have.

  “Do you think the orphanage attack, we were meant to die? Was it him?” I touch on the memory Colton would have seen, of me and the doctor theorizing this exact question, but Colton shakes his head and glances my way, a look of complete cynicism.

  “No, he really didn’t seem to know that was coming, and from what you’ve shown me…. your death is hers.” He nods at the rear view, so I glance back at his mother. “Her death is his. He wouldn’t have wanted it. And until I challenged him, he truly was still reeling me along like he thought I would somehow support him in his madness. He didn’t want me dead, he wanted me bound to his loyals, so I would follow him into war.” That edge of something else clawing in, like maybe anger at not seeing it before.

  So, Juan wasn’t behind the orphanage, but he did create the tech to disable us. He sold it out there, not caring who got hold of it, because he wanted the vampires to think they had a weapon to restart a war. He had to know once they got it they would have the confidence to try and come at the wolves again at some point, so he waited.

  The Vampires thought they had a full proof plan. They aren’t as strong as us, but with something like the isolation box, they would be stronger, and have a shot at taking us down this time. Which means Juan has to know how to combat it and disable the effects of the box. He would never let them have something that would give them their victory, of course not, he’ll have a master plan that he’s going to sit on until this thing is in full throes. He has to keep his weapon hidden and let this brew long enough to give the packs a need to unite before he brings out whatever that is and prove victorious once again.

  Juan craved the union of all the packs, not just the north, and he knew the only way to force that kind of need was to push us back into a war. He supplied the possibility and then sat back and waited, his own arrogance telling him that he would be the one chosen to lead them all. And now he has the answer to their weapon, to force the packs into choosing him. It’s his leverage. The wolves from every land will want the weapon to counteract theirs. It shows how insane he really is to believe he would reign an
d lead, when the first time my own mother pushed him off that pedestal. So easy to knock down and replace. Did that teach him nothing?

  And then when he had the steps in place to ignite a second chance at his gaining a crown, the fates intervened instead, and nothing has been coincidence on either side since. Turning and imprinting me only weeks before the vampires first attack. Solidifying a white wolf in the midst in hopes of redressing the balance, because they knew what was coming. Tying me to a Santo. It all makes sense; every single piece of the puzzle fits and I was always meant to end up in Colton’s arms, in the middle of it all. I’m the fates trying to reclaim a prophecy that Juan keeps trying to destroy.

  I turn my attention back to what he said, dragging my brain from that to this. Head a tangled mess of emotions, but the logic of the bigger picture is sliding neatly into place. Picking out something he said which peeks my attention.

  “What do you mean bound to his loyals?” I don’t even know how he could do that.

  “Carmen. She’s the daughter of his Beta, he’s always tried to push me to stick with only the wolves he approved of. He hated the fact my sub pack was never the children of his own subs. He just had to accept it, but Carmen, now, looking back I realize he kept pushing femmes at me from certain houses and he only wanted me to mark and settle down once you posed a threat.”

  And we come straight to the one thing that chokes me up and makes me hate him all over again. He says it so matter of factly, like he didn’t just stab me in the chest with a dull object and twist it for good measure. He just admitted it. That he’s bound to Carmen, and his father wanted it that way. He maybe didn’t say it outright, but he said enough for me to interpret it that way. I fall silent and turn away as tears prick my eyes and that sense of ‘I knew it’ makes me feels so stupid. Crushing that stupidly, ever hopeful, annoying shining light, that pops up no matter what I tell it.

 

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