by E Hall
“Do you have mistresses? Concubines?” Her tone spikes.
The laughter dies in my throat. “No, Alphas have fated mates.”
“Is that like true love?”
“I wouldn’t know.” I open a side door that leads to what once was a carriage house and is now a garage. Three old cars fill the spaces—a classic Rolls Royce, a silver Aston Martin, and a cherry red MGA sports car.
Kenna pops up behind me and lets out a low whistle. “Wow. It’s hard to believe my parents owned this place. My mom never said anything about it. To be honest, I can’t picture her here. She’s more of a jeans and T-shirt kind of person. Um, so can I call her?”
I turn and am practically pressed up against Kenna, both of us still in the doorway. I tower over her and my wolf wants to protect her. My mind knows better.
She lets out a breath and then drops back. I catch pink in her cheeks as she turns to trace a vein on the marble counter.
“There aren’t cell phones out this far in Concordia. We have a satellite phone back at HQ though.”
“I thought this country was wealthy and technologically advanced.”
“It is but not necessarily in the way you think. The electromagnetic frequencies interfere with our energy, which is more advanced than any device could ever be.”
“So the government and corporations know about you?”
“Not exactly. Our kind is covertly involved in all aspects of the nation.”
Kenna boosts herself up onto the counter and swings her legs for a minute. “I don’t know what to make of all this. It’s unfamiliar, uncharted territory.”
“My sentiments exactly.”
“Can I ask you one more question, and then I’ll leave you in peace?”
“That’s unlikely, but go ahead.” I cross my arms in front of my chest and lean against the doorframe.
“This will sound weird, but when I encountered the person in the hood, what you said was a fae, I felt what was like electricity in my veins. Then with the vamp, I felt static, the same as I do when around you wolves. Then when the Klave person attacked, I felt like fighting back. Corbin, what am I?”
“Good questions. That was all on your birthday, right? The day you were supposed to synthesize. I think, in your case, all the magicals inside of you are vying for dominance. The tri-magical.”
“Do you think I’m a monster?” Fear flashes in her eyes.
“Like you said, uncharted territory.”
Her shoulders drop, but then she abruptly straightens. “I think you know more than you’re saying. You know more about me and this place.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Instinct.” She presses her lips together as though trying to suppress a smile.
My jaw ticks. She’s infuriating. But she’s right. I operate by instinct, make swift decisions, and rarely go wrong. However, right now my inner wolf, my mind, and the Alpha in me are all in a loud argument about how to proceed. Do I destroy her? Do I protect her? Do I find out all I can about her?
Kenna drops down from the counter and pads over to me. She barely reaches my shoulder but squares off. “I’m right, and I want to know everything, Corbin.” Her eyes flash. “Now.”
For the first time since becoming Alpha, my wolf tells me to listen and obey.
Chapter 11
Kenna
Why does Corbin have to be so frustratingly hot? Why do I feel so clueless about everything? Why do I have to ask so many questions?
“I want answers.” Well, that clears that up. As the day progresses, it’s almost like something else inside of me is speaking, demanding.
His lips quirk like he’s fighting between anger, amusement, and obedience. “We have a long ride back to Headquarters. I’ll tell you on the way.”
“I didn’t say I was going back with you.” Suddenly, I feel chilly and my instincts or gut or whatever tells me I’d rather not stay here.
“Suit yourself,” he says and struts out of the kitchen.
I feel the electric charge within that I’ve come to associate with fae magic. I connect what feels like what I can only imagine is what Milly called menopausal hot flashes and the subsequent red that streaks across my vision to vampire power. And the wolf causes physical pressure and static inside me as it yearns to shift.
This is all so infuriating. Why can’t I go back to being me? The high school graduate, daydreamer, softball player, normal girl? Am I synthesizing? Too many questions, too few answers, and a guy who trips my pulse whenever I’m in his vicinity all feels like too much.
I throw open the nearest window and shout into the vast gray nothingness stretching across the dale. The wind carries my voice away.
In the place of a reply, something powerful and magical beckons me forward, toward the unknown, while one hand desperately tries not to let go of what’s familiar.
I want my phone to buzz. For my mother to tell me we’re going out for pizza, and we’ll watch a movie later.
My face is damp as quiet tears slide down my cheeks. I feel a deep sadness, almost grief in my bones. But there’s also red-hot anger. How can I contain both?
Who am I?
Silence.
In the quiet, a sense of peace comes over me.
I take a deep, steadying breath, pushing away wants, memories, and uncertainties. The fresh northern air fills my chest and as I exhale, the window slams followed by a loud slam from somewhere else in the house, jolting me.
Did I do that? I scurry through the hallway to find the wolf shifter. I hope he didn’t leave me here, not that the alternative is ideal either. Yet, I’m drawn to him. Corbin stands in the library. The velvet drapes sway slightly.
Chills pebble across my arms. “Those weren’t open before.”
“Maybe you have house guests.” His Scottish accent curls over the letters.
“Did you say house gusts or house guests?”
He chuckles.
“You have a weird sense of humor, Corbin,” I grumble, coming up beside him. I glance at the wall. “I see you found a map. Maybe it’ll lead me home.”
He stiffens by my side. “I thought that once too. I’ve learned that home isn’t a place.”
“Then what is it?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Come on. Let’s get out of here. This house gives me the creeps.”
“I wish I could argue with that,” I mutter.
“Finally, something we agree on.”
Of course, he heard me with his wolf hearing. I wait for a smile or a glimmer of ease in his expression but it doesn’t come. The guy is gruff and all business.
Standing on the front step, I look back. Why did my mother send me here? Why did my parents leave me this place?
When we get back in the Jeep, Corbin says, “I’ll tell you what I know.”
The mood shifts from the creepy vibes in the house and the awkward and uncomfortable silence from when we were on the road before to something else...tolerable?
“In the ancient language of magicals, Kenna means born of fire and is a reference to the Court of Ken and Clover.”
“What’s a ken? Like the doll?”
Corbin gives me a side-eye like I have three heads. He’s the weirdo wolf shifter. Well, a hot wolf shifter, but still, it’s unusual.
“Ken like knowledge.”
“And court like a fae kingdom?”
He nods. “King Melchior rules the Court of Ken and Clover—he’s the fae king of all courts, but that’s where he primarily dwells.” Corbin bristles. “Every hundred years, he chose a fae to be his consort, or queen. The last one he chose broke the rules and fell in love with a wolf shifter. They had a son, Greyson Slade. He mated with a vampire.” His tone is grave, unforgiving.
My father.
“I take it that isn’t a good thing.”
Corbin speeds down the empty road, taking the turns easily. If we slowed down, I’d see my life streaking by. But we’re going too fast.
“That par
ticular combination never occurred before. Throughout history, whenever different magicals intermingle, problems arise and that’s why it’s banned. A hybrid fae-shifter-vampire could prove to be a very big problem, especially on top of the peace we’re struggling to maintain within the magical community.”
The meaning in his story catches up with me and settles in my stomach like a murky night. “That’s me,” I whisper. “I’m the problem.”
“That’s what we’re afraid of. We don’t know what you are, what you can do, or what others might do with you if they took possession of you.”
“The Klave,” I say, referring to earlier conversations.
He gives a short nod, leaving me room to digest this. Why didn’t my mother tell me? Where is she now? Then I remember her saying that the laws of the agreement she made when she was pregnant bound her tongue. Then we went into hiding.
This can only mean that the Klave abducted my mother. I have to find her. “What can you tell me about the Klave?”
“Not a lot. Mostly just speculation passed along during Council meetings from the fae king. It’s believed they’re composed of many magicals who want to revolt and break free of the protective spell to keep our base natures from harming humans and each other. They could be planning an uprising. After years of brutal fighting, we’ve finally known peace. I’d like to keep it that way.”
As Corbin shifts gears, his arm muscles flex, highlighting the whorls of his tattoos, indicating his Alpha role. Who he is and what he’s meant to do is clear. But what about me?
“So I’m a magical mutt.”
“A mixed magical sounds more polite, but yes. And according to law, you are forbidden to exist.” That same sour expression he wore when I woke up in his lodge, curdles his expression.
My throat tightens. “Let me make this clear to you, Warrior and Guardian Council-pack leader-whatever, I have no intention of hurting magicals or allying with the Klave. I just want to live a quiet life, maybe write a book.” I shrug as sadness holds me captive. “What can I do? How can I escape this?”
“You can’t.”
“There has to be a way. What if I renounce my magic or pick one and stick to it, using my power for good? What were you saying about fated mates? What if I fall in love? Would that protect me?”
Corbin doesn’t answer but rolls down the window, shocking me with cold late-day air.
My hair flies around and tangles, just like my life.
We’re quiet until we reach the gates of Headquarters, which left me with plenty of time for my mind to dart between fears and uncertainty and sorrow. In a matter of days, my life has been turned upside down and inside out.
Corbin slows as we maneuver along the driveway. He turns to me, and his copper eyes flash even as he remains granite-faced. “Kenna, as the Alpha who discovered you and who has given you this information, I offer you the protection of my pack.”
“Why?” That was the last thing I expected to hear. I thought he was going to turn me over to the Council or banish me or worse.
“Stop asking questions,” he says, braking sharply in the driveway and abruptly getting out of the Jeep.
Confused by his conflicting hot then cold demeanor, I find my way back to the guest room, needing some time to figure out what to do. Corbin seemed begrudging when he offered me protection—probably so I don’t “fall into the wrong hands” like I’m a ticking time bomb.
I flex my fingers, recalling the magic I produced when my mother was threatened. Do I need protection?
I catch my reflection in the mirror over the dresser. My dark red hair is wild with no thanks to the wind tunnel Corbin created in the Jeep.
A sly smile hitches on my lips. Without weighing the outcome, I march back outside. The Jeep is where he left it and the keys are still in the ignition. I guess the wolves trust each other not to steal vehicles at Headquarters.
Corbin made the mistake of trusting me because I wasn’t joking when I said I needed a doughnut.
I don’t bother rolling up the window as I speed down the driveway toward the gate. The thing is going to open or I’m going to blow through it. I notice a small device clipped to the visor and click it just in time. I don’t imagine I could afford to fix the thing the way he promised to do at Lonsdale.
I have no idea if my driver’s license is valid in Concordia, but I’m beyond caring. Thanks to a few signs, I find the center of Polaris easily and park by a bakery. The scent of sugar and butter and all things sweet lures me inside.
I instantly breathe easier.
A girl about my age with ginger hair and freckles stands behind the counter, wearing a flour-stained apron. She artfully arranges a tray of leaf-shaped cookies. “Hi, welcome to Sugar, Spice, and Everything Nice. What can I get you?”
I smile as she repeats the words I used at my old job, but replaced the name of this bakery with Doughnuts and Delights. “I used to work at a doughnut shop and would say almost that exact thing. Do you happen to have any?”
She returns my smile. “Doughnuts? We sure do, but they’re from this morning.”
“After the week I’ve had, I don’t care if they’re stale.”
She winces. “That bad?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” I browse the display case. “I’ll also take a scone and one of those raspberry cream pastries,” I say, pointing. “Oh, and that chocolate chip cookie the size of my face looks good.”
She does a stage whisper. “No, joke, they’re the best. I didn’t want to say so before and rain on your doughnut parade, but we’re usually out of them by now, but my grandmother made extra.”
For the first time in days, I laugh at the vision of a doughnut parade.
“Are these for here or to go?” she asks.
“Here, please.”
She arranges my assortment of sweets on a plate. I reach for my wallet, but it’s in my backpack. My cheeks blanch.
The girl behind the counter waves her hand dismissively. “Seems like you’ve had a rough go and are far from home. It’s on the house. Just pay it forward sometime.”
“I’ll pay you back. Promise.” I sheepishly take my goodies to a table, feeling bad, but then her kindness takes hold, reminding me that there are good people in the world who aren’t monsters and magicals.
I dig into the doughnut, letting the subtly sweet dough with a hint of cinnamon and nutmeg infuse my veins with sugar, spice, and everything nice, just like the bakery. A little sigh escapes. When I’m done eating it, the girl appears with a cup of milk.
“Even good when stale? I take that as high praise.”
I chuckle.
She sits down.
“My grandmother, who owns this place, says that laughter is the best medicine. My grandfather would argue for sweets. I say sometimes you just need someone to talk to. By the way, I’m Pepper.” She holds out her hand for me to shake.
“Pepper? Like Pepper Potts from Iron Man?”
“Like Dr. Pepper the soda.”
“Seriously?”
“I’m kidding.”
“My dad is a cryptographer—works for the Concordian government. He solves puzzles for a living. Travels a ton. So I live upstairs with my grandparents and work here. Anyway, a pepper is a secret symbol added to a password to scramble it.”
“That’s cool. I’m Kenna and I just found out that my name means born of fire.” I roll my eyes slightly to let her know I don’t take it too seriously.
Her expression shifts subtly as though she’s solving a puzzle. “I saw the Jeep out there. By any chance are you with that super-hot guy from wolf pack Headquarters by the foot of the Montmartres who’s also super grouchy?”
I almost choke on my bite of cookie. She was right, it’s delicious. But she’s also right about Corbin. “Who?” I ask dumbly.
An amused smile flits across her lips. “Let’s see, flannel shirt? Check. Boots? Uh-huh. Jeans? Yup. Messy hair like he just woke up. Yes.” She ticks each one off on her fingers. “He�
�s come in here a few times.” She waves her hand in front of her face as though trying to cool off and then laughs.
“You had the grouchy part right.”
We talk for the next hour, but move onto other things, like my graduation and spontaneous trip to Concordia. I avoid discussing magic like I avoid eating spinach.
“I have to close up soon, but come by anytime,” she says, getting to her feet.
“Thanks,” I say, bagging up the scone and pastry. “I promise to pay you back.”
“Don’t worry about it. You made what would’ve been a boring shift way more fun—there aren’t many people around here my age, and no one at the Headquarters goes to regular school, it’s been nice chatting.”
Before going back to Headquarters, I stroll down the street, gazing in the few shop windows—there’s a pottery gallery, jeweler, and bookstore.
The wind gusts, fluttering my already wild hair. I get that prickly feeling on the back of my neck—what the shifters called my hackles.
All at once, someone runs by me, grabbing the bag from the bakery out of my hand and shoving my shoulder against the brick wall of the bookstore. They were wearing a hat, flannel, and denim, but that’s all I saw. Isn’t there some kind of unspoken rule about guys not hitting girls?
I start back toward the Jeep and feel the sensation again. I look around and am knocked to my knees.
I smell wolf and something putrid. Maybe it’s my proximity to the sidewalk. If I have magic, now would be a good time for it to work because last time this happened, I ended up in an alleyway.
My vision goes red at the same time someone tackles me. I press against their force as the shift pulls me toward my inner wolf. Energy crackles inside, humming outward.
“You took my scone, jerk. No way you’re taking my life too,” I grind out as I roll over and kick out wildly, thrashing in the air.
But the attacker is gone.
All I see are a pair of copper eyes advancing toward me, and they’re not happy.
Chapter 12
Corbin
Earlier, I went to the training grounds to blow off some steam after the day with Kenna. Claude was already on the rock wall, keeping in shape for his usual climbs on the steep faces of the Montmartres.