by G. K. DeRosa
I nodded as another swell of anxiety rose. Only this one wasn’t mine. Something had Hunter so tied up in knots it was bleeding through our bond. Glancing up at the big werewolf guard, I slapped my hands on my hips. “Can I at least get dressed first?” I eyed the clingy bathrobe hanging off my shoulder and tightened the tie around my waist. “I don’t think the supreme alpha would approve of a visit like this.”
The big guy grunted. “Fine but be quick about it.”
Thank the gods I’d already showered at least. I headed into the bedroom with Cass on my heels. “Do you think this is about last night?” she whispered once we had shut two doors between us and the guards.
“What else could it be? But how would the alpha know? Even if someone had seen my purple wolf, neither Hunter nor Vander had realized what I was because of it.” I dipped into my closet and grabbed an armful of clothes. What the hell does one wear to meet the supreme alpha? I dumped the outfits on my bed and lifted a brow at Cass. “Dressy or casual?”
“Definitely dressy, you want to look nice in front of your future father-in-law.” She threw me a conspiratorial wink despite the tension on her face.
“Or to get tossed out of Moon Valley for being a freak. Or worse, thrown into a dark dungeon, never to be seen again.” Dammit. I should’ve gone with my mom. “Maybe I should run,” I hissed.
“How? There are four guards at the door along with your mate. Didn’t you say he can sense you or something?”
I wasn’t exactly sure how that worked.
“And anyway, you have no idea what this is about, Sierra. Just chill for a second.”
A soft knock at the door sent my heartrate skyrocketing.
“It’s me.” Hunter’s voice seeped through, and my pulse normalized. Or at least what was normal when I was in his presence.
I shimmied out of my robe, grabbed a sundress from the bed and threw it over my head. “Come in,” I called out as I smoothed down the dress.
“I only have a second before one of the guards comes looking for me. Whatever my father asks, stick with what we practiced. You’re Crescent and that’s all you know. Got it?”
I nodded quickly.
“As supreme alpha, he can get into your head so do not think about your real pack. We won’t be able to communicate mentally either. Sometimes he can listen in, and we can’t risk that. Just know I’ll do whatever I can to protect you. Trust me.”
“Okay,” I finally said when the all the words unstuck from the back of my throat.
The stomp of approaching boots ratcheted up my pulse. Hunter spun toward the door and held it open. “She’s ready,” he said to the guards.
Two wolves flanked me, while the other two took the lead. At least they didn’t touch me this time. Hunter walked behind me, and Cass trailed after.
When we reached the end of the tunnel, I heard Hunter stop. Or more like I felt his absence. He whispered something to Cass I couldn’t quite catch despite straining. My best friend muttered a curse but didn’t follow us any further.
I spun back to see her lingering in the entrance to the wolfy cavern. “Be careful,” she mouthed. My head dipped, and I forced a reassuring smile.
Everything was going to be fine. Right?
Chapter Thirty-Five
The glittering gala from the night before had vanished, and in its place, only a bleak, cavernous hall remained. A platform had been set up along the far end with a long table, the alpha’s ominous throne and six chairs below the massive tapestry that covered the earthen wall. For the first time, I really stared at the Dragos coat of arms. A golden crown floated atop the crest, fancy gilded swirls around the central shield. A fierce dragon loomed over a howling wolf, emerald green in the background. I hadn’t noticed the symbolism before. Effin’ Dragon Boy.
For a second I wondered what my pack crest looked like. Remembering Hunter’s warning, I quickly shoved the thought away before the alpha got wind of it.
“What are we waiting for exactly?” I asked the nearest guard.
“For the rest of the high alpha council to arrive. The meeting was called rather abruptly.”
I gulped. This was so not good. I hazarded a glance up at Hunter who stood a few yards away, his eyes fixed on the long table. The tendon in his jaw was doing cartwheels, and the tension radiated off him in suffocating waves.
A door slammed open, drawing my attention away from him and to a hidden entryway just behind the platform. Tyrien Silverstalker strode in, a few guards in wolf form close behind him. The air in the room thickened, his overpowering alpha-ness sucking all the oxygen from the vast chamber. My wolf stirred, a low whine rumbling in my gut. She pressed against the power, her hackles raised. The supreme alpha’s slate eyes darted toward mine, and his bushy brows slammed together.
Could he feel my she-wolf pushing back at him? Easy, girl. As much as I hated this guy for what he did to my pack, now was not the time to get in a pissing fight.
I dipped my gaze, and the supreme alpha seemed pleased. His power lessened, and I was able to draw in a full breath. More footsteps turned my attention back to the door from which Tyrien had appeared. A line of males and more wolfish guards filed onto the platform. Alphas all of them. Though their energy was nothing like Tyrien’s, I could still feel their dominance in my bones.
My eyes landed on a familiar male, the dark hue of his hair the exact color of his son’s. Lucien De La Sangue, the Royal Pack alpha. His pitch eyes raked over me as he folded into the seat beside Tyrien. The supreme alpha sat at the center of the table, in his menacing throne, while the remaining males filled the chairs around him, three on each side. With the exception of the one seat at the end which remained vacant.
I searched my memories for the conversation with Vander. There were seven sparkly unicorn packs, or Lunar Packs as they were officially called. Tyrien represented the Dragos Pack, obviously. I hated the thought of him with fire and wings. He was intimidating enough as a wolf let alone a freakish dragon/wolf hybrid. Scanning the five men before me, I tried to place the others. The one male with the wavy, cerulean hair was a dead giveaway. He looked just like his mermen brethren – Atlantic Pack for sure. I looked closer at the remaining three and my gaze settled on a pair of pointy ears. The Court of Wolves. That alpha’s Fae blood was evident in those pointed appendages. Faery wolves. I couldn’t help but snort on a laugh. The remaining two: Demon Pack and Celestial Pack. The male to the right of Tyrien had an unearthly glow, with thick golden locks and eyes the color of a perfect summer sky. Had to be a descendent of the angels. Which left the last one, an imposing red-headed male with a jagged scar across his eyebrow as the Demon Pack alpha. I’d hate to meet any of these wolf hybrids in a dark alleyway.
Why were they here? Why was I here? Whatever it was, it must have been big for Tyrien to assemble the entire high alpha council.
My gaze landed on the empty seat at the end. The one that must have been reserved for the Mystic pack alpha. My extinct pack. A low growl reverberated in my core. That chair belonged to my dad.
“Are we ready to commence, father?” Hunter’s official tone ripped me away from my musings.
“Yes, Aristaeus, you may bring Ms. Wildstone forward.” He lifted a beckoning finger toward the guards, who nudged me toward the platform.
My heart jackhammered against my ribs, gaining momentum with each step closer. Hunter shadowed my movements but remained a few paces to my left. When we were about a yard away from the dais, the guards stopped. One swung an arm across my chest, and my feet ground to a halt.
I wriggled free from his hold and another growl slid from Hunter’s clenched jaw. It was the second time that guard had touched me, and my mate was pissed. I guess you don’t have to love someone to feel protective over them. Tyrien’s watchful eye darted to his son for only an instant before settling back on me. Hunter needed to keep his wolf in check if he wanted to keep our mate bond a secret. So far, he was failing miserably. And I couldn’t help the slight twinge of satisfaction.<
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Tyrien stood and cleared his throat. “Do you know why you are here, Ms. Wildstone?”
I fought the urge to stare him right in the eye and cast my gaze to the floor. “Is it my official welcoming party to Moon Valley?” I snapped my jaw shut as soon as the sarcastic words were out. Stupid loose lips. Maybe being a smartass to the supreme alpha wasn’t the best idea right about now.
A wicked chuckle resonated through the vast chamber. “I’m glad you have a sense of humor, Sierra. It will serve you well for what’s to come.”
Tension buzzed through the bond, a swirling mix of emotions. I swallowed hard. “And what is that exactly?”
Tyrien eyed his son. “It appears that Aristaeus was mistaken as to your lineage.”
Shit. Shit. Shit. My eyes widened, and I did my best to pull off my look of shock. “What do you mean?”
“You are no ordinary Crescent wolf, my dear.” He smiled but with his lips curled, it looked more like a wicked sneer. “You are one of the gifted Lunar Packs. In fact, you are the last of the great Mystics.”
A gasp rolled through the assembly. The other five males chattered amongst themselves, surprise etched into each of their hardened faces.
From the corner of my eye, I caught Hunter stiffen. His broad shoulders strained, and the muscles in his back twitched. A golden gleam lit up his irises, and I could feel his wolf clawing to the surface. He needed to chill the eff out before he made things worse for both of us.
“What does that mean?” I asked innocently.
“It means you are a miracle,” said Lucien. The Royal Pack alpha stared at me like a starved wolf eyeing its prey. I was no sheep, buddy.
“Look, I don’t know much about this wolf stuff, but don’t the Lunar Packs all have special powers? I don’t have anything like that.”
Again, the males murmured to each other.
“Perhaps your abilities haven’t matured yet,” said Tyrien.
“It isn’t unheard of in half-bloods,” added the Atlantic Pack alpha.
“Maybe you’re mistaken,” I continued.
“I think you know we’re not.” Tyrien leveled me with an icy glare. “After all, you are the source of our information.”
“Huh?” I nearly choked on my spit.
The door beside the platform swung open, and Ransom filled the archway. His arms were folded against his chest, a troubled look in his eye. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed, and my stomach dropped.
Tyrien pointed at the Royal Pack beta, at my supposed friend. “It was Ransom himself who overheard you talking to your witch friend about your true origins.”
Betrayal lanced through my heart as I glared across the room at him. How could he rat me out to the supreme alpha like that?
Ransom opened his mouth, but Tyrien silenced him with a piercing glare then turned his glacial eyes on me. “The reappearance of your pack is a momentous occasion for our people. I don’t know why you felt compelled to keep that from us.” His eyes shot daggers at his son before returning to mine once again. “The Mystics have been extinct for nearly two decades, or so we believed. While I am unsure of the ramifications of your existence, there is one thing I am certain of. Per our bylaws, you are required to compete in the Alpha Trials.”
“Excuse me?” I cried out.
“As the sole member of the Mystic Pack, you have no choice but to compete for the position as high alpha.”
“This is absurd,” Hunter barked, and his wings snapped out.
All eyes turned to the snarling beta. Fur sprouted across his arms, and sharp fangs had descended.
Just breathe, just breathe. I shot my thoughts at Hunter, hoping if they were intercepted they wouldn’t be too damning.
“And why should you care, Aristaeus?” The shrewd alpha male glared at his son, eyes narrowing. “You knew nothing of this, correct?”
“Correct.” He cleared his throat. “But she’s a female,” he snapped. “The trials are no place for her.” I could almost hear his unspoken words: they’d been no place for me as a young boy.
My pity for the young Hunter thrown into the trials battled my frustration with his sexist remark. Now I had to try not to look insulted. Stupid alpha male, chauvinistic society… I could take on a pack of sparkly unicorn wolves, no problem. I just had to figure out how to turn on my magical powers. Crossing my arms over my chest, I glared at the entire council.
“Be that as it may,” said Lucien, “the bylaws rule.”
“What if I refuse?” I stared the supreme alpha right in the eye, and I couldn’t help the swirl of satisfaction from pulling my lips into a smile. No submissive here.
“You cannot refuse. As your pack leader, you must submit to my will.”
But did I? I caught Hunter’s anxious look from the corner of my eye. His beta magic didn’t work on me, would his father’s?
“What if I leave Moon Valley?” I hedged.
“Per Azarian law, you are forbidden to leave before completing your training as a new wolf, and if you remain in my territory, you are bound by wolf law.”
Gods, I hated this guy.
His energy washed over me as he speared me with those slate irises. Power pulsated from his eyes, radiating over his skin. It slammed into me, and my wolf flared to life. She struggled against the alpha, a snarling, rabid beast. Their essences battled inside me, rattling my ribcage. My she-wolf flexed her power, and the sheer force of it surged through my veins like a wildfire. I gasped.
Hunter’s eyes widened as he watched me. Could he feel her too? Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he shook his head.
Reining my wolf in, I drew in a steadying breath. She was not happy. She’d been trapped inside me for too long, and now she wanted out. Fur sprouted across my flesh, and I could feel my incisors lengthening. Not yet, girl.
In that moment, I knew for certain. I could fight the alpha’s control. Just like with Hunter, my wolf wasn’t bound to his father’s will. But no one could know that yet.
I had a new plan, a new way to get my revenge on the great Tyrien Silverstalker for decimating my entire pack.
“Fine,” I muttered through gritted teeth. “I’ll see you at the Alpha Trials.”
Read on for a special sneak peek of Wolfish: Curseborne coming out on August 3. Preorder it here! Want more of the Wolfish world? Join my Facebook group for a FREE prequel short story to see Sierra and Dragon Boy’s first encounter at the academy in Wolfish: Initiation.
Sneak Peek of Wolfish: Curseborne
Prologue
Hunter
Gods, Sierra was beautiful when she defied my father. Just when I thought I couldn’t possibly desire her more, she stared the great Tyrien Silverstalker down, refusing to be intimidated by him or the entire high alpha council. It had taken me years to accomplish the same. She’d been a wolf for all of a month and she was already challenging the supreme alpha.
My mate.
My wolf prowled to the surface, lurking just below my skin. He wanted out. He wanted to claim what was his. But I couldn’t let him, not when my human half was cursed never to love her. And gods I wanted to. Every fiber of my being wanted her. I cracked my knuckles and curled my fingers at my sides.
This curse was the most wicked of tortures. It split me in half: man and beast. My wolf recognized her as his mate, wanted to claim her, protect her, become one with her. But my human side bore the heavy burden of the curse. My heart was hollow. Despite lingering memories of falling for her throughout my visits at the academy all those years back, my emotions were fleeting. Whispers in the wind of what it felt like to love her. No matter how hard I tried to hold onto them, they’d escape my grasp. It was torture. Constant torture.
“I’ll see you at the Alpha Trials.”
Sierra’s words tore me from my inner musings and a growl broke through my clenched teeth. “No,” I snarled at my father, at the entire council. He’d never let her leave the battleground alive.
“I’m afraid this isn’t up to you, son.” The great alp
ha sneered down at me from his throne. My future throne. I’d never wanted it, but now, I’d be forced to take it if only to put an end to his tyranny. I’d always suspected he’d been behind the demise of the Mystic Pack and now I’d have to find out the truth, for her. If my father was the one behind the attacks on Sierra, I wouldn’t rest until he was punished. I may not have been able to love her, but I’d be damned if I wouldn’t protect her.
I hazarded a glance at Sierra, and my lifeless heart fluttered. Her violet eyes shimmered with intensity as she glared at each member seated on the dais. She ran a hand through her wild locks and turned to me. “Your father’s right, Aristaeus. This is my duty as the last surviving member of the Mystic Pack.” Her lips curled into a mischievous smirk. “You’re not scared of a little competition, are you?”
The mental link between us opened, and I longed for our usual banter, but I couldn’t risk it in front of my father. “Of course not,” I responded instead, injecting steel in my tone. Father could never know of our bond. He’d have her killed; I was sure of it.
Sierra turned her gaze to the council, planting her hands on her hips. “If we’re done here, I’d like to get home and get some rest before the trials tomorrow.”
“I’ll take her.” The words leapt out of my mouth before I could stop them.
The supreme alpha’s eyes darted to mine, his lips pulling into a frown. “Very well. Inform Ms. Wildstone of what is expected for the first round.”
I nodded and moved toward her, every nerve in my body begging to be closer. She was gravity and I was helpless against her pull. I was so weak. Just like I had been all those years ago. I knew the curse was coming and still, I’d let this happen. I’d hurt her time and again because I was too weak to control myself.
My hand closed around her upper arm and energy crackled between us. My breath hitched and the front of my pants grew tighter. Control yourself, Hunter. I inhaled slowly as I steered her toward the tunnels, but with each intake of air, her intoxicating scent filled me with need.