by G. K. DeRosa
Chapter Sixteen
As soon as we reached the foot of the hill, I spun out of Aristaeus’s hold. “So it’s okay for you to manhandle me but I can’t even touch you? And what is your deal with Ransom by the way?”
He dragged his fingers through his hair, tugging on the dark ends. “You can touch me,” he murmured, the raspy edge to his tone stroking my insides. “You just can’t make an aggressive move.”
“I didn’t think my little hand was so intimidating.”
An actual smile pulled at his lips, despite his best efforts to conceal it. “Sierra, I understand you’re new to all this, but there are certain aspects of decorum that must be maintained. As future alpha, and I will be the alpha, I must be respected. Females they—”
“Throw themselves at you?” I was familiar with the type. There were tons of them at the academy who fawned over Marrick and his cronies.
“Yes.” He paused and sucked in his lower lip. “The power I exert over them… it’s hard to avoid. It makes it difficult to differentiate real feelings from my beta dominance.” He snapped his jaw shut, pressing his lips together and trudged up the hill in silence.
It was the most I’d ever heard from the tight-lipped wolf, and for a second, I felt like I’d gotten a real glimpse of the man, instead of the intimidating beta. As I walked behind him, I could already tell the man had disappeared beneath the hard wolf shell. His shoulder blades were strained, and his jaw was clenched tight.
I sighed and followed him straight to my door. He wasn’t kidding when he’d said he knew where I lived. Which was equal parts creepy and cute.
When we reached my room, I motioned for him to sit on the couch. He scanned the small apartment, focusing in on the few personal items I’d found to decorate the space. A picture of me and Cass, two picture frames with old images of my mom and me, and a stack of my favorite books on the coffee table. “I’ll just grab a knife,” I said, moving toward the kitchen.
“No, that won’t be necessary. I have everything right here.” He opened the backpack he’d been toting around and revealed the same dark vase from yesterday, the black dagger, the glittery potion and an extra vial.
Great. My skin puckered at the memories of the harsh bite of the blade. Glancing at my palm, only a thin white line remained of the wound. Yay for speedy wolf healing.
Aristaeus set the mystical items along the table and turned to me brandishing the dagger. “Ready?”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I offered him my palm. “Can you at least do a countdown this time?”
“Fine, on three.” His rough fingers closed around my wrist and despite dreading what came next, tiny sparks flared where our skin touched. “One, two—”
The blade pierced my flesh and I howled, muttering curses that would make a sailor cringe. “You said three!” I cried.
“I also said it was better if you didn’t know when it was coming.”
My eyes shot daggers at the merciless wolf as he held my bleeding palm over the vessel.
“I’m going to take a little extra, in case the answer isn’t clear again and I have to repeat the spell.” He grabbed the empty vial, replaced it for the vase and squeezed my wrist until the flow of blood quickened.
“Fine,” I muttered, my head already spinning. I squeezed my eyes shut and focused on my breathing. Do not pass out. How much did he have to take? I could feel the blood draining from my face as a bout of nausea churned my stomach.
Aristaeus finally released his iron hold on my wrist, and I slumped back on the couch. Black invaded the corners of my eyes. I was about a second from giving into the darkness, when a warm tongue dragged over my wound.
My heart slammed against my ribcage, and my eyes snapped open. The almighty beta kneeled before me, running his tongue over my palm. Holy werewolf babies! I squirmed, pressing my thighs together as heat pooled in my core.
An impossibly long minute later he pulled back and sat up, returning to his position on the couch. My heart was still doing cartwheels. The echoes of his tongue ghosted over my hand.
“It’ll speed up the healing,” he said, his head cocked. Always watching. Always studying. “Are you okay?”
I must’ve been paler than the full moon, and I still couldn’t quite get my brain to form words.
He stood and marched to the kitchen. I was vaguely aware of some clinking glass as he rifled through the cabinets. I refocused when he halted in front of the mini-frig, his eyes intent on the note fixed on the door.
My Hunter’s note. Shift! If I’d know I would have visitors, I wouldn’t have left it in such a public place.
I knew every single word by heart. His scrawled writing filled my mind’s eye.
Sorry, had to run. You distracted me and I ended up staying much longer than intended. The healer assured me no permanent damage has been done to your ankle, so I’ll stick to our deal and let those arrogant assholes off this time. I know this world is new to you so this is my advice, don’t ever let anyone see you squirm. In Azar, only the strong survive, so be fearless, be brave and don’t take shit from anyone. Even if they’ve seen your beautiful bare ass.
Good luck,
H.
P.S. I feel bad for your new roommate because you snore like a broken buzzsaw.
I sighed as I pictured his words, remembered the night we’d first met. I’d moved the old memento from my night table where it had spent the past four years in my dorm out to the kitchen, so I’d obsess about it less. It had been nearly a year since I’d seen Hunter last, since our big fight and now that I’d left the academy, I doubted I’d ever seen him again. It was time to move on. He’d made that clear last year anyway.
Panic rose the longer Aristaeus stared at the page. Why was he still standing there? I tried to get up, but my knees wobbled. “You coming with that water, or what?” I shouted.
He unfroze, opening the door and filled the glass from the filtering pitcher. As he strode toward me, his eyes were trained to the floor.
So embarrassing. Among other things, now he knew I snored. I fidgeted as he neared, then remembered Hunter’s words. Though he’d been referring to the witches, his warning applied to the wolves as well. Don’t ever let anyone see you squirm. I’d been failing hardcore with that one. The alpha heir made me squirm, wriggle and everything in between.
He handed me the water and I gulped it down, refusing to meet his gaze. I could feel it on me now, the weight of it heavier than normal. It beckoned me, his eyes compelling me to meet his. When I couldn’t take the pressure any longer, my chin tilted up. His mouth opened as if to say something, but I blurted, “I need to lay down.” I weakly pointed to my room. “Can you finish up your spell and let me know what happens?”
His jaw snapped shut, and he nodded slowly. I pushed myself off the couch and wobbled the moment I stood. His arm shot around my waist to steady me, and I stumbled right into his chest. He hissed, the sharp release of air from his clenched jaw forcing me to straighten.
“Sorry,” I muttered. Geez, was my touch so repulsive?
Aristaeus staggered back, and I walked the long way around the coffee table just to avoid another near touch. As I staggered to my room, the heat of his unrelenting gaze bored into the back of my head. What was up with this guy?
Once I reached my room, I fought every urge to slam the door behind me. I couldn’t be a total B. I needed this guy if I was going to survive pack life. From what I’d read in my Werewolf 101 book, a wolf without a pack was dangerous. And as much as I hated to admit it, a tiny part of me wanted to finally belong to something. The witches had hated me, and if the wolves rejected me, it would force me to consider maybe it was me. Not them.
My thoughts swirled as I lay in bed, trying not to think about the wolf just outside my door. Five minutes passed, then ten. I did not remember it taking this long the first time. Finally, an exasperated curse echoed through my small apartment, followed by the crash of broken glass.
“Everything okay out there?” I called out
.
“Fine,” Aristaeus snarled back.
I had a feeling things were the opposite of okay. I briefly contemplated going back out there but reconsidered. I’d wait until the beta’s fury had subsided. No need for him to take that out on me.
A few minutes later, the smack of heavy footfalls approaching sent me scrambling to sit up in bed. Aristaeus’s dark shadow filled the doorway, and deep lines marred his brow. He braced himself against the doorframe, his massive biceps straining. The black wolf tattoo peeked from beneath his shirtsleeve as if threatening to break free.
“It’s not working,” he growled. “And there’s no more blood.”
He looked so angry and frustrated I almost considered offering more. Almost. “Maybe it’s because I’m so new. Couldn’t we wait and try again in a few weeks?” I’d only shifted once after all. To be honest, I was scared to try again. What if I couldn’t do it? What if my wolf was still purple?
He stalked toward the bed and slumped onto the edge of the mattress. The small bed groaned beneath his added weight. “I suppose…” He dragged his fingers through his dark hair, sweeping the long waves behind his ears. “I was certain you’d be one of the seven—” He cut himself off, and I could practically see the gears grinding in his head.
“The seven?”
“One of the seven gifted of the Lunar Packs.”
I raised my hand and waved it at him. He was deep in thought, as if he could somehow guess where I belonged. “Newbie wolf here. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“There are dozens upon dozens of minor wolf packs, but there are seven that make up the most powerful ones.” He scooted closer, lowering his voice. “It’s a secret kept within the Shifter Realm. All wolves are bound by the bloodlink to only use their special powers among our kind. Only a few outsiders know of our unique talents.”
My body tilted closer, inexplicably drawn to the thrall in his voice.
“Seven packs were gifted these distinct powers by the goddess Luna herself. Therefore, we refer to them as the Lunar Packs. They each reflect abilities of the houses of Azar.”
My brows furrowed as I tried to piece together where he was going with this. Wolves with special powers? “Explain, please.”
“You know I’m Dragos, right?”
My head bounced up and down.
“My pack was blessed with abilities from the Brotherhood of Dragons.”
I was sure my eyes had bugged out like some crazy cartoon character. “You mean you can shift into a dragon too?”
“Not exactly. But I can do this.” He snapped his fingers, and a flame appeared in his palm. It danced along his upturned hand, flickering oranges and reds. The fire lit up his emerald irises, the reflection making them dance.
“Whoa…”
“And this.” He stood and tugged his shirt over his head. Rippling abs consumed my vision, and I swallowed hard. Until a sharp snap jerked my attention to his wings—wings! Emerald wings that mirrored the exact shade of his eyes stretched out behind him.
I shot to my feet unable to stop myself. I circled him, my eyes intent on the leathery appendages. I curled my hands into fists to keep from touching the glimmering scales and the sharp talons that jutted out from the tips.
“This is amazing,” I whispered. “Everyone from the Dragos pack can do this?”
“Not quite. Some have more abilities than others, the alphas always do, and the further down the line the weaker they get.”
My thoughts scrambled for purchase. “The other Lunar packs, they have traits of the other houses?”
“Right. Ransom and Castor who you had the displeasure of meeting earlier are from the Royal Pack, they were gifted with abilities of the Royal Vampires.”
“They’re immortal?” I squeaked.
“Kind of. They are born like you and me, but once they reach maturity, they stop ageing. They’re much more difficult to kill, only a beheading will do. They need to consume blood to survive, and a small number even have the same healing powers in their saliva as their vampire brethren.”
“That’s insane.” Cass had no idea what she was getting into when she signed up for her job as healer with the Royals. “Okay and the others?”
“There’s the Celestial Pack with the abilities of the Sons of Heaven, the Demon Pack gifted with traits from the Underworld, the Court of Wolves, or the faeries as we lovingly like to call them with elemental powers, the Atlantic Pack with ties to the Ocean realm and lastly, the now extinct Mystic Pack who inherited the gifts of your wiccan brethren.”
“Extinct?” For some reason, I could only focus on the last part.
Aristaeus’s expression hardened, the smooth planes of his face carved into stone. “About twenty years ago.”
An odd emptiness resonated inside me. “How?”
His lips pressed into a tight line. “I’m not sure exactly. Their population just dwindled slowly over the years.”
Wolves with magic. Balderrin would have a shit-fit. How had they managed to keep this hidden from the rest of Azar? Something Aristaeus said earlier flitted to the forefront of my mind as his dragon wings receded into his shoulder blades. “Why did you say you thought I was one of the seven?”
He eyed me for a long moment before answering. His presence bored into me, that unyielding wolfish weight. My she-wolf rustled, awoken by his relentless beta aura. “Because your wolf is strong. She doesn’t want to submit to me.”
A swirl of delight came over me. I knew my girl was a badass.
“I typically find that to be the case within the seven packs,” he continued. “So it was a natural assumption. I still believe it to be true, little wolf.”
I thought back to my purple wolf, that eerie glow. “Do any of the seven packs have glowing wolves?”
He slowly shook his head. “No, and on that note, a friendly reminder not to share that information with others. Especially not with your new friend, Ransom.”
“Why do you dislike him so much?”
He shrugged. “He rubs my wolf the wrong way.”
Translation: he’s an arrogant alpha heir just like he was.
“Okay let’s say I am from one of these sparkly unicorn packs. Why don’t I have any of the other special powers?”
“Like you said, you’re new, little wolf. It takes time for them to develop, and I’d imagine even more so with half-bloods.” I had so many questions fighting for dominance in my head I didn’t know where to start. Before I could voice a single one, Aristaeus stood. “I have to return to the lair. Lots of preparations for tonight’s Alpha Council meeting.”
“Oh, okay.” The flare of disappointment at the idea of his departure pummeled me in the chest. I was just desperate for companionship. That was all.
“You’ll get more of your questions answered next week when your classes start. They’ll go over everything.” He eyed the stack of textbooks on my desk before turning toward the door. “You can always get a head start.”
Already had. “Yeah, sure, of course.” I followed him out into the living room, trailing a few steps behind. The great beta actually hadn’t been totally awful to me today. No sooner had the thought crossed my mind when his gaze drifted to the note pinned on the mini-frig. His lips curled into a scowl, and the easy-going male vanished.
His expression hardened, and his knuckles whitened around the doorknob. “Not a word about the pack thing to your new friend, Ransom, are we understood?” he practically snarled.
“Yeah, I already told you I got it.” I staggered back and leaned against the kitchen counter. Holy mood changes! “Gods forbid, he found out the great beta Aristaeus wasn’t all-powerful,” I muttered.
His eyes narrowed, and he shot me a blast of that crushing beta power. My wolf rose to the occasion, and a menacing growl vibrated my chest. I couldn’t wait for our wolves to meet in person. I had a feeling my girl would give his a run for his money.
He whipped the door open, and I waggled my fingers at him. “Goodbye, Arist
aeus.”
The slam rocked my entire wolfy den.
Wolfish wanker.
Chapter Seventeen
Two Years Ago, AKA The Third Time I Met Dragon Boy
I swallowed hard. Shoving down the swell of hope bloating my insides as I marched into the ballroom with Cass’s arm entangled through mine. I barely noticed the extravagant decorations, the gold-covered everything as we entered the grand hall. It had been a year. An entire year. Though Hunter had promised he’d be back tonight, I didn’t think I’d survive the crushing pain if he didn’t show. Sure, I’d been counting down the days since that night, that epic kiss. But if I let myself hope and he didn’t come…
“He’ll be here,” Cass whispered.
I adjusted the sequined mask, pushing it further up my nose. It was gold to match the fancy ballgown Cass had insisted on, but mostly Hunter’s eyes. Those fiery golden irises that shone brighter than the sun. “I think I should wait in the courtyard. That’s where I found him the past two years.” Not to mention, the dance had ended in disaster for me every time.
“No!” she hissed. “That boy owes you a dance at the very least this year. He can do better than just skulk outside. If he wants to see you, he needs to come in and make his move.”
I’d been a wreck for weeks after that kiss. I’d spent the better part of a month curled in my bed, moping around the dorm. I couldn’t get Hunter out of my mind, didn’t want to. I replayed the night and the one the year before it over and over again. Cass had finally dragged me out of our room and forced me back into the real world.
“I know you don’t like him…”
She spun around, fierce hazel eyes peeking through the slits of her mask. “It’s not that I don’t like him. I don’t like what he does to you. I don’t know him enough not to like him and neither do you for that matter.” Her expression softened, and she squeezed my hands between hers. “Promise me that this year you’ll find out more about him. That you’ll make him come see you if he wants something more. Putting you through hell once a year isn’t fair.”