Page 19 of Alpha’s One-Night Stand (Shifters of Clarion #3)

T he party’s still going on. I can hear the thump of the music on the other side of the door. We’re lying on the couch, naked and sweating . . . and bleeding a little. If somebody should walk in right now . . .

I don’t think I would care. Fuck them and fuck appearances.

My wolf is quiet, and I feel like a whole man. It’s incredible what a drug she is. I’ve slept with plenty of women in my life. I’ve taken meditation and anger management classes, even worn this damn totem all week. Absolutely nothing has worked the way being with Yarra has.

My hand lingers on her arm, my fingers slowing dragging up her soft skin. She nuzzles into me, her hand resting on my chest. I can hear her heart beating, matching the pulse in her hand . . . and my own heart.

We are one, and it’s all I’ve ever needed. I was a fool to ever doubt that.

“Chad?”

Her voice floats up to me, soft as a whisper. “Hmm?”

She pauses, and I think for a moment that she didn’t hear my response. Then she asks, “Am I really a werewolf?”

Now I’m pausing. What can I say to her? Do I tell her all of it? Where would I even start?

I take a deep breath, ultimately, and I tell her, “I think so.”

She frowns against my chest, then lifts up her head and looks at me. “You think so? Yesterday, you were sure. What’s changed?”

She has to know. Looking at her sparkling blue eyes, how could I even dream of keeping this from her?

“When you told me you were looking for your mother,” I started, “I decided to do a little digging of my own.”

Yarra sits all the way up. Her eyes widen slightly as she looks away. Her heartbeat has sped up.

“Do you . . . want to know?” I ask her.

She stares off into nothing for a moment, then says, “I’ve been looking for her for so long, I . . .” She shakes her head, pushing away the thought. “Tell me what you found.”

It’s so much information, and she didn’t grow up in this world. She’s completely ignorant to our people’s centuries of history. I sit up and take her hand.

“To tell you about your mother,” I say softly, “I have to start a little further back, to the place where she was born. Where we all come from.”

“I’m listening.”

I tell her about Clarion and the Alpha King and his mistress and their bastard child. I tell her about how she returned and lived a noble’s life and eventually came to Moonhelm to join the Table. All the while, Yarra’s not looking at me. She’s looking down at her hands, listening to my every word.

“Who . . . who is the woman?”

I stop. I can’t just blurt it out. She needs to hear the rest. I squeeze her hand and continue. I tell her about how she fell in love with a human man and became pregnant, and about the Table and how they didn’t approve of her relationship, and finally, how she had to run to keep herself and her baby safe. And when I’m done, my mouth is dry and my own heart is pounding. There’s nothing else left to tell.

“When she left,” I say softly, “She changed her name to Karen Wilkinson.”

I leave it there. I don’t know the details of her mother’s life after she left, and, I guess, I don’t have to know or explain it. I can see in Yarra’s eyes that she’s putting pieces of her life that have long been missing together. I let her process in silence. There’s no sound but the muffled thumping from the party beyond.

Finally, she smiles a little and says, “So . . . I’m a princess?”

“In a way,” I respond, “and not really. She was a bastard, after all.”

She nods. “And . . . she was a witch and a wolf. And my father . . . Wow.”

“Did you ever know your father?”

She shakes her head. “Mom never told me much about him. Said he left before I was born. I just took it for granted that they had a bad relationship. Oh, God. Did something happen to him?”

“I don’t know.”

She bites her lip thoughtfully. “Well . . . Cole told me that I was a witch, and you told me I was a werewolf. I said I was human. I never thought we’d all be right.”

I frown a little. “Cole?”

“The detective I told you about. Oh, wait until I tell him.”

She gets up and starts hunting for her clothes. A little bit of panic sparks within me. “Maybe you should hold off on telling him.”

Yarra gives me a strange look as she puts on her panties. “Why? He might be able to find more about Mom if he knew her real identity. He sure seems to know a lot about your . . . my people.” She pauses, her smile wavering a little. “Yeah, I guess they’re my people. God, why didn’t she ever tell me?”

“Yarra,” I stand up. “You shouldn’t tell anyone about your real identity. If your mother is still missing, it might mean that someone is still out there looking for her, too. Maybe the both of you.”

She blinks. Then her smile fades. “Chad . . . What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know yet.” I brush a strand of electric purple hair out of her eyes, my hand moving down her neck and to the bite on her shoulder. “But you are my Luna. I’m bound to keep you safe, and we will figure this out together. I swear it.”

Her smile returns and melts into a smirk. “Luna, huh? Is that like a girlfriend?”

“More than that. We’re bonded. You are mine and I—”

“Am yours,” she finishes. Her eyes flit up and around my face, seeing me with new eyes. “I’ve got a lot to learn about being a wolf . . . and a witch, I guess.”

I hold her in my arms, my nose pressing into the top of her head. I’m swimming in her love.

“Hey,” she says, pulling away from me. “The Games are tomorrow, right?”

“Yes.”

“My friend, Saffron, is going to be participating. We should go to cheer her on.”

I bristle a little, and Yarra’s smile falters. “What?”

“Your friend the Scarlet?”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh, don’t start with that. She’s a nice girl. And she’s been really helping me adjust to this place. The least I can do is help cheer her on.”

She steps away and walks over to her dress, which was lying crumpled by the couch. “Do you know anything about Scarlet Wolves, Yarra? They can’t be trusted.”

“I know all I need to know about my friend, Chad. That’s all that matters. You can’t blame her for the actions of an entire species.”

She slips her dress over her head, and that spurs me to find my pants. I don’t like it that she’s friends with a Scarlet Wolf, especially with everything that I know now. But if I don’t go with Yarra, she’ll end up going on her own, and that’s probably an even worse move than her befriending the Scarlet in the first place.

“All right,” I tell her. “I’ll come. She’s your friend. Far be it from me to interfere.”

“Thank you.” She slips into her shoes as I zip up my pants. “Speaking of which, I guess I’d better see where Saffron got to. She’s probably worried about me.”

“Saffron is at a party full of horny neutrals. I’m sure she’s doing just fine.”

Yarra rolls her eyes as I finish getting dressed. Then the two of us, hand in hand, walk out of the room and back to the party.

The Games start right at moonrise. I had wanted to spend the day with Yarra, but she insisted that she needed to do some more research on her mother’s family. I’d told her that if she was planning on searching the history books for info on her mother, she probably won’t find anything, but Yarra said, “That’s all right. I want to find out about my great grandfather and his family.”

I don’t blame her. If I found out I was directly descended from royalty, I’d probably want to know everything I could too.

But now, we’re sitting in the bleachers set up just outside the forest for the first game of the night. A trail of sorts has been carved through the grass leading into the woods, and there is a large monitor hovering over the field that will show us the runners once they disappear from view.

It looks like the entire campus is here. That’s not too surprising. Those of us who don’t care about any other Scarlet activities usually come for the Games, at least. I remember my younger days when I lived for this. It was one of the few times I actually enjoyed being at Moonhelm, and now that I’m here watching everything start up, I can’t shake off the nostalgia.

There’s a collection of Scarlets standing at one end of the trail leading into the woods. All of them are naked except for the scarfs they have tied around their necks, each in a different color. Yarra nudges me and asks, “What do the colors mean? Is that like what country they’re from?”

“No. It’s what pack they’re from.”

She raises her eyebrows a little, then furrows them. “But everybody hates Scarlets. Why would they want to represent their packs?”

I shrug. “Nobody hates Scarlets during the Games.”

Saffron looks up at us and waves. Yarra practically jumps out of her seat to wave back. I just cross my arms. I’m also scanning the crowd for any strange behavior or anyone watching us. There’s a lot of people here, and a lot of things could happen.

At least Saffron’s down there. If she means Yarra any harm, she certainly can’t do anything right now.

“So, this is a race, right?” Yarra asks.

“It’s a hunt. At the starter’s pistol, the Scarlets will run into the woods and try to evade capture while following a trail. First ones back move on to the next round.”

She nods, then says, “Hope Saffron does well.”

I smile at her. “You know, they hold these kinds of games for everyone during other parts of the year. Maybe you should participate.”

“I haven’t even fully shifted yet,” she says. “I doubt I could do anything like this. Besides, I don’t really do forests.”

Dean Fowler stands up in the box seats near the front of the bleachers in a rare appearance. When I was a student, we usually didn’t see him outside of events, unless something terrible had happened or one of us was called to his office. It was often said that if you met him one-on-one, get ready to be expelled.

He looks almost exactly the same as he did when I attended. Tall and thin with silver hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. He’s wearing a finely tailored suit with a tie in the school colors. He looks at the crowd as they quiet down, and his angular features make him look even more like a bird than he did when I was a student.

“Welcome to the annual Red Moon Games!” he says. “As you know, Moonhelm celebrates all wolves under the banner of Clarion as our pledge to diversity. Today, we honor the Scarlet Wolves, a vital part of the Lycan pantheon.” He looks down at the runners standing at the starting line and smiles. “You are, and always will be, of our blood. You honor your packs today with your participation.”

The crowd applauds politely, and Yarra gives me a sidelong glance. “Awful enlightened of the Dean.”

“It’s all politics,” I say. “He’s a respected member of the community. A united front looks good for Moonhelm.”

“That being said,” Dean Fowler goes on, “good luck and good journey to all the runners. Let the games begin!”

The crowd explodes, ready for the Games to get going, finally. We watch as a teacher walks onto the track where the runners are.

“Runners!” he shouts from the starting line as he holds a starter pistol in the air. “Assume your positions!”

The crowd around us cheers loudly as the runners jog up to the line, some of them stretching before getting into position.

“Ready! Set!” The pistol goes off with a loud bang. The runners shift quickly, each wolf sprouting fur a different shade of red. The crowd goes wild around us as the runners disappear into the forest. The screen above comes to life, showing a split screen following each wolf. Their names are printed at the top of their individual section. Yarra points to Saffron with delight. “There she is! Oh, look at her go.”

We watch as the wolves race along the trail, masked hunters in the background of the monitors. Every time someone spots a hunter, they shout for the wolf to look out, as if they can hear them. I look over at Yarra, and she’s at the edge of her seat, watching as wolf after wolf gets tagged.

Saffron seems to be doing well, though. She’s a cunning animal, I’ll give her that. She sniffs the wind and slips in and out of the shadows, creeping past the hunters with hardly a problem. It’s looking like she’s going to be in the top three.

The screen goes dark, suddenly. The roar of the crowd dies away as confusion sets in. Clearly there’s some kind of malfunction.

“Help! Somebody help us!”

Screams from the woods. One of the runners has changed back to human form and is sprinting madly back to the field. Naked and wild-eyed, he runs right into one of the teachers, who grabs him by the shoulders and starts talking to him.

“What’s happening?” Yarra asks.

“I don’t know.” I look around us, the energy in the crowd shifting quickly to panic as several teachers run down to the field and change to wolves, rushing into the forest after the other runners.

“Oh, God,” Yarra says. “Saffron . . .”

Dean Fowler joins the crowd of teachers surrounding the man who ran out of the forest. The man is frantically explaining, but I can’t make out his words. Something terrible has happened.

Dean Fowler rushes back to the teacher’s box and grabs the microphone. “Everyone. We need you all to return to your dorms immediately. Please leave the area in an orderly fashion.” As he speaks, some of the other teachers walk toward the edges of the bleachers and start escorting students from their seats.

“Once you are in your dorms, do not leave. I repeat. Once you have reached your dorms, do not leave until you get the all-clear message from the teachers.”

Yarra looks at me. “Saffron’s still out there. I can’t just leave her.”

“We have to go. Something is very wrong—”

“I’m not leaving Saffron.”

Yarra shut her eyes, and suddenly, I can hear the whispers of a mind-link occurring. I watch in wonder as she stands stock still, her eyes moving rapidly. Holy shit. She can mind-link without her lycan?

She opens her eyes and looks around, pointing to the edge of the forest. “There.”

I follow her line of sight and see one of the teachers rushing out with Saffron in his arms. She’s convulsing.

Yarra is already bounding down the bleachers. I follow, pushing past people just to keep up.

Yarra and I run across the field to the teacher and Saffron. He’s kneeling next to her as she convulses, her eyes rolled up into her head.

“Saffron!” Yarra moves to grab her, but I hold her back. The teacher stands with his hands up.

“She’s all right,” the teacher says. “She’s having a vision. It’ll pass in a moment.”

We watch helplessly as Saffron’s body continues to jerk violently, her pale skin reddening around her neck and shoulders.

Finally, she’s stilled. The teacher kneels down and rolls her onto her side as she starts coughing into the dirt. Yarra kneels down with him, putting a hand on Saffron’s shoulder.

“Saffron? Are you okay? Talk to me.”

Saffron gasps and coughs one more time. Then, she pulls herself up in a sitting position and says, “We need to leave. Now.”

“What’s going on?”

The teacher helps her to her feet and says, “There’s something in the woods. You need to head back to your dorm.”

“I’ll take it from here,” I say and help Saffron steady herself. “Can you walk?”

Saffron nods. I take off my jacket and wrap it around her. “Let’s go.”