Page 2

Rachel

S omething wakes me from a dead sleep and I bolt upright in bed, listening closely for anything that might explain why I’m awake. The house seems still and quiet as far as I can tell. Rubbing my eyes to try to clear the sleep from them, I look around my room and see the alarm clock beside my bed reads just after five in the morning. The sheer, floor-length white curtains in front of the French doors to my balcony fly through the air as a wet gust of wind whips through my room.

Hopping out of bed, I hurry to cross the plush white rug that covers the span of floor from my bed to the balcony. Reaching the doors, I push them shut with a little effort and latch the lock into place at the same moment a thunderous boom shakes the house.

Ugh, I hate storms, that must be what woke me up.

Stretching my limbs out, I let out a dissatisfied groan. I really hate waking up before the sun. Regardless, I’m up now and my bladder certainly isn’t letting me go back to sleep. I walk across the room to where my robe hangs from a hook behind my door and I slip out of my bedroom door.

I’m not as fully covered as I would be if I were leaving my wing, but it’s so early that won’t matter. You’d think with as rich as he is I’d have a bathroom attached to my room and maybe I would if he wasn’t determined to keep me as far away from people as possible. Before I turned ten, back before my first shift when my father still tolerated me, I had a room in the ‘family wing’. But the moment he caught his first glimpse of my fox, he immediately had me secluded away to the guest wing. We may live in an expensive home, but this wing definitely shows the age of the house. Sometimes I wonder if that’s part of the reason he chose to move me here. Well, that and it's as far from him as possible while still being confined to the same house.

Father rarely sends anyone over here, but nevertheless I silently creep down the hall and breathe a sigh of relief as I close the bathroom door behind me. I don’t usually leave my room without being fully covered but standing here with the scalding hot water pelting down on me, I admit I was so distracted by the remnants of the dream I was snapped out of, I didn’t bother to care if I had gloves on or not. Closing my eyes, I try to remember the details.

I’m in my fox form, running through an unfamiliar wooded area. My red fur helps me blend into the underbrush and I keep my four matching tails tucked low, but not so low that the white tips drag the ground while I weave through the unfamiliar trees. The feeling of eyes on me has me wanting to find a den and burrow in. I hear a snap of branches behind me and tilt my head to listen closer. Soft footfalls surround me and I can feel someone closing in. Someones? The realization that I’m not even kind of alone sets me on edge and I take off again. Darting through the underbrush, I can hear my unseen followers all around me. A glimpse of black fur around one corner sends me scurrying in the opposite direction. I make my way up and over a log and as I hop from my perch, I can swear I see stripes of orange in my peripherals. My lungs burn and my legs are tiring, but I can’t stop running. I fake a quick left and then dart right, trying to mislead whoever is stalking me with my scent trail, but it doesn’t work. I skid to a stop directly in front of a gigantic white wolf. When he lays eyes on me, he throws back his head and howls at the moon. A magnificent roar sounds from the sky that seems to surround us, but before I can find its source, I’m awake.

Shaking my head to dispel the remnants of the dream, I rush through my shower and dry off, wrapping my robe tightly around me before cracking the door open and dashing to my room to get dressed, praying I make it back before anyone notices I’m awake.

Of course, that was a pipe dream. I swear if I didn’t have bad luck I’d have no luck at all because when I get to my now open door, I see my father standing just inside my door and I freeze. My gloves are dangling from his hand, and the look on his face promises retribution. His piercing amber eyes rake over my body, looking for anything else to take issue with before snapping back to my face. I tense under his penetrating gaze.

“Care to explain this ?” He raises one perfectly sculpted eyebrow on an otherwise blank face while gesturing with my gloves to my fairly exposed state.

He’s being too calm. Something’s not right.

“I… I’m sorry, Father. It was early. I didn’t think-”

“No. You never do,” he sneers. “I have had more than enough of your disrespect in my household. I’m sending you to Eldergrove Academy. Maybe they’ll have better luck with you.”

I’m shocked. I can’t believe he would let me leave, and for an academy at that.

“When?” I gasp.

By the sparkle in his eye, I would guess he mistook my inhalation as shock that he would do such a thing. And honestly, he’d be right. I am shocked. But not in the way he expects me to be. I can’t believe he’s letting me go. I’ll be out from under his suffocating rule. I thought he’d keep me locked up for the rest of my life just to keep me from becoming a whore , as he likes to call me.

“Tomorrow,” he says, jolting me from my runaway thoughts.

“I was coming to tell you the good news when I found these , and you were gone. Seems the arrival of your acceptance to the academy was right on time. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep yourself covered at all times while you’re away. Trust me when I say you do not want to accidentally discover any of your mates . You will not like the consequences,” he sneers.

The threat is clear in his voice.

Swallowing roughly, I dip my head. “Of course, Father.”

Ever since I was old enough to understand what a mate is, I’ve known I was meant to have four . And ever since Father saw me in shifted form for the first time, I knew that was the worst thing fate could do to me.

Tiger shifters don’t share mates. It was one thing when I turned out not to be a tiger shifter like my father, but a kitsune shifter like my mother, but the four distinct tails sealed my fate. I didn’t have one mate like my mother, but four . Father could never accept that. And he took every opportunity to remind me.

No one can prepare you for the first time your father, a man who’s supposed to love you unconditionally, calls you a whore. My only sin is having more than one fated mate. It confused me when I learned what the word meant. Whore . I didn’t understand how I could be a whore when I’ve never even touched a boy before. Thanks to my father’s ranting and raving, I swore off mates long ago.

I was ten years old when Father first made me cover every inch of skin on my body before being allowed to leave my room.

All because fate.

Kitsunes form instant bonds upon skin-to-skin contact. And I have four mates.

As soon as Father discovered my truths, he ensured I would never feel the skin of another again. He’d gotten rid of not only Ms. Coleman after learning of her transgressions, but most of the staff I knew as a child were gone now. I still have no idea what happened to them or where they went.

“Good. Get packed. And don’t forget these ,” he sneers as he throws my gloves at me before pushing past me.

“And Rachel,” he turns back to me with a twisted grin. “Don’t think leaving this house means you’re free. I’m a powerful man, darling. My reach far exceeds the confines of this home.”

Of course, it does. I’m not completely na?ve. I know he’s one of the shifter representatives for The Eternal Covenant, the governing body for all supernaturals in North America. The Eternal Covenant is made up of three representatives from the four main supernatural species; witches, vampires, gargoyles, and shifters. The three members for each species are voted on every five years and make up a triad, who then choose one of them to be the leader. The only shifter politician more important than my father is the Shifter Tribunal Leader, Mr. Demetrius Ashford.

I know there’s nothing Father can’t get away with because even in my seclusion, I’ve heard more than one whispered conversation about the terrible conditions the staff face. When he was elected for the first time almost nine years ago, I was barely old enough to do my own research and for a moment after the election I had hopes that the all seeing eye of the media may be able to sweep in and expose his real truth to the world. Unfortunately, they never did.

When it became clear that there was no knight in a noble white news van coming to report on the secrets held within these walls, I got brave enough to take matters into my own hands. But that also failed. Oh yes, father ranted about how some ‘mystery source’ was trying to stir up drama, but he had also ranted about his solution to the problem. Pay off those who are willing to comply with his demands and let his team of ‘fixers’ deal with anyone who wouldn’t comply. It’s one of many reasons I don’t want to find my mates. There’s no telling what he might do to them if I ever do.

“I understand, Father,” I murmur.

There’s no use arguing. I never win. He’ll never accept that I don’t want four mates just as much as he doesn’t want me to have them. He doesn’t have to worry, though. I’m going to go to Eldergrove to get an education. I’m not looking for mates.

Hell, I’m actively avoiding them.

Father must be satisfied with my answer because, after instructing me to get my things packed up, he disappears from my wing as quickly as he had appeared. I still can’t believe he’s actually sending me to school. I’ve never been before. When I was little, he had a whole slew of tutors for me but never allowed me to go to the local shifter elementary. He had claimed he wanted to keep me “safe” but I have a hard time believing that, considering how everything turned out. After my first shift, he fired all of my tutors and hired Mrs. Fitz, an elderly panther shifter with a hearing problem. We met via video call once a week to discuss my progress and for her to assign new work. Mrs. Fitz has been my only consistent contact for way too long.

The realization that I may actually have the ability to get out from under my father’s thumb hits me again and I feel something warm starting to blossom in my heart.

Is that hope?

A day later I’m being dumped unceremoniously in the parking lot of a beautiful sprawling campus. It’s just me and two suitcases filled with everything I own. I can hear my father’s voice as my mind oh so helpfully replays our last conversation.

“You will go to this school and you will behave in a way that reflects positively on the St. James name. I will not have reports of your exploits embarrassing me in front of my colleagues. You will graduate at the top of your class and most importantly, you WILL remain covered at all times regardless of if you believe you are alone or not. You will NOT be flaunting yourself and collecting mates like the town slut I know you are.”

Shaking my head, I dislodge his words and tug the edge of my long gloves just a little higher. I look around wide-eyed at all the students milling about. I've never been around so many people.

Maybe this isn't such a good idea. There are so many people. What if someone accidentally touches me?

Before I can hyperventilate over the thought, I steel my spine and take a deep breath before taking determined steps to the admin building.

I’m not exactly sure where we are geographically, but I know we are still in the Pacific Northwest because it only took a few hours to get here. The campus sprawls out ahead of me and I must admit I’m kind of excited to have so much room to explore. The wooded area to my right is beckoning me, the fox inside just aching to stretch her legs. It’s been far too long since she’s been allowed to feel the dirt under her paws. I send her a promise to explore the woods when we get the chance.

First things first, I need to get checked in and find my dorm room. Awkwardly pulling my two large suitcases, I make my way to the admin building and pull the front door open.

Inside, there are tables set up with signs telling students where to go. I find the woman with an S in front of her and stand in line. Luckily, it’s one of the shorter lines, so it doesn’t take long for me to get to the front.

The petite woman looks up at me over a very thick pair of glasses. She has spiky grey hair with remnants of brown dusted throughout, and her kind smile draws me in. When she sees me lugging my bags behind me, a momentary look of concern flashes across her face before she masks it.

“No one to leave your bags with, dear?” She inquires as kindly as she can.

“No ma’am,” I reply, ducking my head, ashamed of the pity I know I will see on her face.

“No matter dear, last name?” she asks.

“St. James,” I murmur, barely above a whisper. “Ma’am.”

“Speak up, dear. Can’t quite hear you,” she says.

“St. James, ma’am,” I say louder this time.

Hopefully, loud enough, I would rather no one connect me to my father, but I know it’s an inevitability. For now, I’d like to live in my protective bubble just a little bit longer.

“Ahh, yes, here we go. Rachel St. James. Welcome to Eldergrove, deary.” She smiles as she hands me my welcome packet.

When I reach for the offered folder, I internally grimace as her brow quirks at the sight of my gloves. They always draw attention, but Father won’t let me wear normal gloves. They have to be elbow high even if I wear a long-sleeved shirt. Avoiding eye contact, I take the folder with a murmured thanks before running back the way I came. Okay, so it’s not so much a run as quickly and carefully maneuvering through a crowded room without touching anyone while keeping my head down so no one can see my face.

Once I’m outside, I suck in lungfuls of air in a desperate attempt to keep the oncoming panic attack at bay. After a few moments, I feel calm enough to look through the folder to find my new living quarters. I’m ready to collapse into bed. This day has already been exhausting.

The first thing I pull out is a map. The front shows the parking lot and admin building with a walkway separating it from another building. On the other side of the walkway, there are several buildings devoted to student needs, like a cafe and a clinic. Behind those buildings is a complex of admin housing and in front of the clinic is one path leading to the huge sports stadium and another to the three main buildings where classes will be held. I find that the path directly in front of me leads to the dormitories.

Why are the boys’ and girls’ dorms so close together?

Scowling at the map, I pull out the next paper. It’s a welcome letter, so I take some time to read through it.