by G. K. DeRosa
A pair of deep emerald eyes bored into me. I cursed myself for choosing a seat in the second row. As warmth spread over my cheeks, I tore my gaze from the ridiculously good-looking guy glaring down at me. If I hadn’t been late for the new student initiation assembly, I wouldn’t have been stuck front and center under the heavy gaze of the most powerful supernaturals in all of Azar. I squirmed in the wooden chair, fidgeting with the crisp oxford blouse and crossed my legs. The uniform plaid skirt rose, showcasing half of my thighs and the warlock next to me sucked in a sharp breath.
I skewered him with a sidelong glance and turned my attention back to the stage. Mistake. Big mistake. Those piercing green eyes found mine once again, and blazing heat seeped up my neck, billowing across my face. A shock of dark hair tumbled over Dark and Broody’s eyes, releasing me from their mesmerizing hold.
“I take it you’re familiar with the future supreme alpha?” Vander’s voice jerked me back to the present. “You got that starry-eyed expression all the females get around him.”
“Um, no. I mean, yes, kind of. His father came to speak at our initiation to the academy and he was there too.”
“Oh, right. I forgot he attended those on occasion.” Vander stopped in front of a towering oak, the breadth of the trunk twice his size. And the wolf was not a small man by any means. He motioned toward the opening in the thick bark. “Right this way.”
I balked. “Inside the tree?”
“Man, you’ve got a lot to learn about the shifter realm.” He raked his hands over his face. “It’s the entrance to the portal.”
“Oh, okay.”
He ducked through the small opening, and I followed behind. The inside of the trunk was much larger than it had appeared. In the center, deep blue lights swirled, the winds whipping purple hair across my face.
“After you.” Vander ticked his head at the portal, and I leapt inside.
Wherever we were going had to be better than the academy, right? I held onto the comforting thought as I waded through the gelatinous substance.
Seconds later, the portal spat me out in the middle of a clearing. Throwing my arms out to the sides, I managed to remain upright. But just barely. I squinted at my surroundings, and warm sun caressed my shoulders, streaking through the canopy of green above. My wolf stirred, a gentle nudge of her head against my insides.
Vander landed beside me in a crouch, his alert eyes scanning the quiet forest. “Welcome to Moon Valley, young wolf.”
The oddest sense of belonging swam over me, the sun’s tender rays a warm greeting. Home. The word ricocheted across my skull. “Where to now?” I uttered, breathless. The unexpected overwhelming emotions squeezed my lungs.
“Follow me.” My wolfy escort sauntered through the clearing to the edge of the forest. The massive trees parted and a pathway appeared, weaving toward verdant rolling hills. Etched into the side of the knolls were caves, hundreds of them dotting the green landscape. Above the rising and falling mounds, a peak rose high against the brilliant blue sky. Vander pointed at the summit. “That’s where we’re going—Silverstalker Lair, the home of our supreme alpha.”
I froze. The wolf alpha lived inside a mountain? My thoughts flitted back to the past, to the speech Tyrien Silverstalker had made at my initiation ceremony. The intimidating male wasn’t just the alpha of all the wolves of Moon Valley, he was the supreme alpha of all shifters within the realm. The fuzzy bunnies, birds, tigers, and bears, oh my. From what I remembered, the wolves made up the largest pack. Their leader was fierce, having bested all the other shifters to claim the title of supreme alpha. According to what I’d learned at the academy, not much was known about the selection process. The shifters liked to keep their secrets.
“Come on.” He tugged on my arm, but my feet were planted to the ground.
“You’re sure I can just walk into the alpha’s home without an invitation?” I’d been a wolf for all of like a second.
“We’re going to see his son, not Tyrien.”
I gulped. Somehow that didn’t quell my unease. Those green eyes flashed across my mind, angry lips twisting into a scowl. Aristaeus hadn’t seemed pleased to see me all those years ago, what would the beta think now?
“Relax, Sierra. We go way back, been friends since we were little pups.”
I suppressed a giggle as I pictured Vander as a cute cold-nosed puppy with warm hazel eyes. “Okay,” I finally said and let him drag me to the pathway toward the valley.
Bustling activity flitted all around us as we walked through what Vander explained was the town square. “Wolves like to live a life close to nature, so while we have access to all the modern technologies you’d find in the rest of Azar or the human world, most choose not to use them.”
I’d gathered as much as we sauntered through the outdoor market lined with vendors, carts selling fresh bread, farm-grown vegetables, and handmade clothing. I felt like I’d just traveled back in time.
“Most wolves choose to live a simple life. We farm, produce goods for the community. Stuff like that.”
“So you’re a farmer?”
A sly grin parted his lips, and he palmed the back of his neck. “No, not exactly.”
“But you can’t tell me what it is you do?”
“Not yet.”
I huffed out a breath and picked up my pace. I hated secrets. My mom had kept the truth from me about being half-witch until I was a teenager, and now this wolfish stuff? If my mom was part witch, and I was a wolf, that could only mean one thing—I’d inherited my wolfy genes from my dad. The dad my mom had refused to ever talk about, the dad who I thought wanted nothing to do with me. The dad who was dead. Had she known the truth all along?
A blacksmith polished the iron blade of a newly wrought sword, the flames from the furnace warming my face as we passed. I eyed the assortment of weapons and wondered why the wolves needed such an array of artillery.
“Are the wolves at war or something?” I asked, when Vander caught my eye.
A nervous chuckle tumbled from his lips. “The packs are always fighting about something—territory, females, supplies. It’s in our dominant nature.”
I’d learned some things about the wolf hierarchy at the academy, but I wasn’t familiar with the nuances. Would my she-wolf be submissive? I scoffed. Yeah, right. By the terrorized look that russet wolf had given mine, I doubted it somehow.
“How do you know if you have a dominant wolf?” I asked as we passed another row of vendors. Colorful silk, embroidered lace, homemade perfumes. My fingers itched to touch everything, inhale every unique scent.
“Oh, you’ll know.” He chuckled again, and this time the amusement reached his eyes.
I was about to ask how, when the sounds of the market died down and the looming hill stretched over us. A veritable stone fortress had been built into the side of the grassy mountain.
“Welcome to Silverstalker Lair.”
Two massive wolves crouched on either side of an opening at the bottom of the hill. Their hackles raised as we approached, and a warning growl thickened the air, wary eyes pinning me to the spot.
Vander lowered his gaze and I followed suit, suddenly extremely interested in the dark soil beneath my boots. “Vander Clausson and Sierra Wildstone to see supreme beta Aristaeus Silverstalker. He is expecting us.”
The wolves lowered their aggressive stance and dipped their heads. Resuming their positions at either side of the doorway, they let us pass. We dipped inside the murky tunnel and the musty, earthy scent filled my nostrils.
“Ready to meet your new pack beta Hunter?”
“Hunter?” I squealed, my voice a few octaves higher than normal.
Chapter Nine
Three Years Ago, AKA The Second Time I Met Dragon Boy
“He’s not going to be here,” I grumbled at Cass.
“How do you know?” Her lively eyes scanned the ballroom through the narrowed slits of her mask. This year she’d chosen a pink feline disguise, long sparkly whiskers extend
ing from the cat’s face. I’d picked a simple black satin number, hoping to disappear into the shadows.
“I know because it’s been an entire year and the guy in the dragon mask I met that night was either a hallucination or doesn’t want to be found.” I couldn’t blame him either. My first year hadn’t been a great one. I’d been dubbed Moon Girl after the masquerade ball dress fiasco, and most students avoided me like the plague. Like my uncoolness would somehow rub off on them if they stood too close. Just three more years.
Cass had dragged me to the opening ball, just like last year. I never would’ve agreed if it weren’t for the tiny shred of hope that Dragon Boy would miraculously show up.
“Or maybe he doesn’t know what you look like either,” she offered.
I shook my head, rolling my eyes. “Cass, everyone calls me Moon Girl! He definitely knows who I am. He’s the one that dragged my broken ankle to the healer, cradling my naked butt, remember?”
“Of course, I remember. You stare at that cute note mystery boy left you at the infirmary like every night.”
Heat flushed my cheeks. I hadn’t realized my roommate had noticed. Okay, so maybe I was a little obsessed but I didn’t even know his name, what he looked like, anything about him besides his gold dragon mask and the initial H. It was obvious he didn’t want to be found. Otherwise, he would’ve signed his name to the note instead of only his initial.
My mind raced back to our conversation that night, to what he’d said about anonymity. What were you hiding from Dragon Boy? I nearly laughed out loud at his nickname. Even with the mask on, I was fairly certain he wasn’t a boy. The deep baritone that replayed in my dreams was nothing like the shrill tone of the annoying wizards and warlocks in my classes.
I stood on my tiptoes and scanned the packed hall. Not a single dragon in sight. “I think I’m just going to go.”
“No!” Cass wrapped her arm around mine and squeezed. “We just got here, and it’s your seventeenth birthday. At least try to have some fun.”
I glared at the sea of writhing bodies and scowled. “This is not fun, Cass.” I still couldn’t shake last year’s mortification and being here only amplified it. I could practically hear Davina and Marrick’s cackles as I hit the ground, all the air whooshing from my lungs, and that embarrassing rip.
The evil witch Davina and her boyfriend had tortured me all year. They’d spread rumors about me, belittled me for my non-existent magical powers, and turned the entire student body against me. Just because I was a half-blood.
It was no surprise Dragon Boy had kept his distance. He’d been sweet to stick up for me that night, but I was clearly a liability. There was also the possibility that he’d graduated… Cass tried to sell me on that one repeatedly, but I had a feeling she was only trying to spare my feelings.
“Come on, just one dance,” she continued as she towed me toward the packed dancefloor.
“Ugh,” I grumbled. I still hated dancing, by the way.
“What if you miss him because you’re too busy feeling sorry for yourself.”
I wrapped my arms around my middle, hugging the flowy, exceptionally loose mini dress. There was no way I’d make the same wardrobe mistake twice. “I’m not feeling sorry for myself,” I whined. Okay, maybe I was. A little.
Cass tugged me forward, her hips swaying to the sultry beats. Unlike me, my roomie had blossomed in the past year. Her long, lanky figure had filled out, and the boys had taken notice of her new curves. Especially tonight, in that form-fitting fuchsia number. As we weaved toward the crowd, I caught a few of our classmates giving her the eye, their heated gazes swarming over her tight dress.
And Cass loved every minute of it. She threw each of her admirers flirty smiles and by the time we reached the center of the dancefloor, we had a handful of guys in tow. My bestie spun toward me and took my hands, forcing me to move to the pounding beats.
“Are you having fun yet?” she asked.
“Just because I’m waving my hands in the air, doesn’t mean I’m having fun, Cass.”
The circle of wizards and warlocks tightened around us as the music kicked up a notch, and my friend pulled out some of her signature moves. The butt bump. The tootsie roll. And her favorite, the slow twerk to the floor.
I couldn’t help but laugh as she pranced around, a huge smile splitting her lips. Her excitement was contagious and despite my best efforts, I found myself dancing alongside her. Not that my lame moves could compare to hers, but at least I was moving so that was something.
“Hey ladies…” One of the circling vultures stepped between us. “Cass and Sierra, right?” The warlock arched a dark brow, his deep maroon eyes roaming over my best friend’s skimpy dress. “I think we’re all in the same Potions and Poisons class. I’m Bristol.” He pointed at another dark-haired guy lingering nearby. “And that’s Nero.”
Cass’s head bounced up and down, a sparkle lighting up her pale green eyes. I did my best not to scowl at the guys. They weren’t part of Marrick’s crew and had never been openly hostile, but neither had ever bothered to say a kind word either.
Bristol took my friend’s hand and spun her in a tight circle. Cass giggled as she landed in his arms. It took all my restraint not to roll my eyes. Instead, I kept dancing, pretending to have fun until Nero squeezed in behind me and started thrusting against my back. Oh, vomit. I inched forward, desperate to avoid his gyrations but I was stuck between him and Bristol’s back.
Nero’s warm breath drifted over my shoulder, and a million spider legs scrawled down my arms. I shook it off, reminding myself I was supposed to be having fun. “Want a drink?” he shouted in my ear.
“No, I’m good.”
“You sure?” He reached over my shoulder and jiggled a silver flask a few inches from my face.
“Ooh, I’ll have some,” said Cass, her eyes narrowing in on us. “I’m parched.” She danced over and grabbed the contraband booze from Nero, taking a long pull. She coughed and spluttered, her nose crinkling as she handed the flask to Bristol. “What in all the realms was that? It was disgusting.”
“Something we conjured up in class.” Nero’s dark eyes twinkled. “You should’ve tried the first few batches.” His mouth puckered, and he made a gagging sound.
The legal drinking age in Azar was eighteen, and even that wasn’t highly monitored. Age was more of a fluid construct among the supernaturals, which made sense considering some of their abnormally long lifespans. Thank the gods I wasn’t one of those. One lifetime was more than enough for me.
“It’s Sierra’s birthday,” Cass announced and grabbed the flask from Bristol then handed it to me. “We definitely have to celebrate.”
I scrunched my nose and shook my head, pushing back the noxious beverage. “Nah, I think I’m good.”
“Come on, Sierra,” Nero urged and bumped his hip against mine. “How are you going to keep up with us if you don’t?”
Peer pressure. I’d read about it countless times, knew the dangers of it, and still found myself wanting to say yes. Not because I found Nero even remotely attractive but because it was the first time any guy at the academy had given me the time of day. Sad, I know.
Cass wrapped her hands around my arm and bounced up and down. “Come on girl, do it, do it! Just take a little sip.”
What the heck, right? Squeezing my eyes shut, I took a big gulp. The alcohol burned a scorching path down my throat, and my insides nearly heaved it all back out. Swallowing hard, I kept the contents of my stomach down and hazarded another taste.
“Woohoo, Sierra!” Cass took my hands and spun me in a circle. “Happy birthday, girl!” My head immediately swam, the mixture of the bootleg booze and my friend’s crazy dance moves. But for a second, with my senses numbed, I forgot about last year, the embarrassment, the torment and I let loose.
Big. Mistake.
The minutes passed, the songs tumbled by, and my drunk booty shimmied across the dance floor. I giggled and danced and giggled some more. See, I could
be fun. The music blurred around me, the sounds of chatter and laughter garbled and distorted. As Nero whirled me around in a circle, I clutched onto his palm, my knees starting to wobble. My mind spun with every twirl, my vision growing hazy. I leaned into my dance partner and wrapped my arms around his neck. Nero’s solid form was the only thing holding me up I realized in a quick moment of lucidity.
He leaned in, obviously mistaking my tight hold for something else, and his eyes narrowed on my lips. My drunk brain considered the ramifications of a kiss but came up with nothing solid. So when he inched closer, I licked my lips and closed my eyes.
His mouth brushed mine, and it wasn’t totally awful. He pressed harder, and his tongue snaked through my lips. Oh! Not that I ever would admit it, but this was my first real kiss. Andrew Stewart had given me a peck back in middle school in a game of truth or dare, but it hardly counted.
Nero’s tongue darted around my mouth, and my stomach began to churn. Nausea crawled up my throat, and my gut roiled. I pulled away, trying to break the kiss, but his hand wrapped around my neck holding me in place. Oh no, no, no. I chomped down on his lower lip and he let out a yelp, but finally released me.
Without even a glance back, I darted through the mass of bodies, the alcohol roiling in my stomach. Oh, gods, I wasn’t going to make it. From across the hall, my eyes locked on the restrooms. Please don’t throw up, please don’t throw up. My mad dash had caused quite a stir, and the piercing gazes of my classmates drilled into the side of my face.
I gagged.
Clenching my teeth together, I managed to keep the blasted booze down. I pumped my arms like crazy, weaving between the rows of tables. Twenty more feet. I could make it.
Heat raced up my neck, beads of sweat snaking down my spine. My stomach tightened, and all the liquid sloshed inside. I reached the bathroom door and barreled through, but a blonde Barbie blocked the entrance to the free stall.
“Davina,” I shouted, “Move!”