Page 4

Stacy

I’m in panic mode as he leads me deeper into their village.

“Five minutes, Blossom,” he says, walking at such a brisk pace that I know I’d never be able to keep up if I were on foot.

I’d have to jog, which wouldn’t be easy since my shoes are in the woods. My shoes, my bag, the gun. The alpha with the beard is gone to find all of it.

I buried it and put that catnip on it, but I did it just quickly and it got really windy right afterwards, so maybe he will find it.

So strange to be surrounded by that many alphas at once. Strange and terrifying. The masculine energy that each of them exudes… it’s almost as if it’s otherworldly. I’m not used to the overwhelming volume of such potent male aromas coming at me all at once.

Inwardly, I’m panicking, but outwardly it’s quiet. Peaceful, even. Scents continue to flood my senses as we move past beautiful, tidy homes on both sides of the street. And I feel so strange. Afraid. Curious. All at once.

We stepped out of an extension on a barn but from what little I took in, it didn’t look much like a barn inside. There was a room attached, filled with bookshelves and comfortable-looking chairs. And looking around outside, I can say this is nothing whatsoever like our village. I see the store I knew was here. There’s a gas pump. Surrounding it are beautiful homes that shout pride in ownership . There’s also the absence of noxious odors from junk. We move past people and a couple of cars. It’s night, and I don’t even know what time it is; it’s been the longest day of my life. Multiple people see us and greet us with waves or smiles, with what looks like excitement.

And it’s strange. Because he’s alpha and yet they’re looking directly at him. No one cowers when they see him. They’re smiling and waving instead of showing their necks and dropping their eyes.

“They’re excited,” he offers at one point when a lady claps her hands as we walk past her, startling me.

My eyes bounce to his face. He’s watching me, reading my confusion.

He explains, “They know I’ve identified you as my mate. They’re happy for me.”

My eyes dart away, and I can’t compute all of this. His mate? Can’t be. They believe in that here; I know that from hearing bits and pieces of conversations when I’ve spied on them in the woods, but this alpha really seems to think I’m his mate. The one created for him. That’s taking precedence for him over the crimes he knows I’ve committed. And I can’t wrap my mind around any of it.

As he keeps moving, more heads poke out, or faces are plastered to windows. They’re taking in my scent, as I’m a stranger, an outsider. Until they find out what I did… then I’ll be an enemy. An enemy whose scent they won’t forget.

Shame washes over me again, but I can’t help but glimpse through windows at families with open sets of drapes and although I’m terrified for the future and ashamed about today, about everything, I notice things, intriguing things…things that do not remotely feel like the abomination we were taught this pack is.

This place is vastly different from our so-called village. Worlds apart, even. This feels like paradise where my little world feels…post-apocalyptic. Dystopian.

Not only can I not help but be interested in my surroundings, taking in the famous Arcana Falls wolf shifter village, but my brain is also muddled by the alpha carrying me. He’s beyond attractive. He smells amazing. And his words about what he’ll do when he gets me to his home keep bouncing around in my brain.

He’s at least six inches taller than me and I’m tall for a female. He’s young, maybe in his early thirties, and he’s got dark hair with some premature silver threaded into it. It’s not long but it’s long enough to sift my fingers through. If I wanted to. But why would I want to?

My face burns hot with embarrassment at my train of thought. But I continue to assess his appearance even with my mortification.

He’s got a defined jawline, and those color-changing eyes that are striking even when they’re not changing shades. And he’s got lots of muscles. It’d be impossible to miss if he were wearing his shirt, but I’ve got that on so there are miles of muscles on display. He’s got scruff on his face, as if he hasn’t shaved in three or four days. It’s got a bit of silver in it, too. The salt with the pepper suits him.

The heat coming from him along with the incredible scent of him – I could almost fall asleep, which is strange. Beyond strange.

So many conflicting emotions wash through me that it feels like I’m not getting enough air. It’s like my heart is beating too fast. I need everything to slow down. I need to think. I need to… to flee, mostly. That’s what I really need to do. Because so much rides on today and on me getting out of the area and back home. But I’m caught and…

My thoughts scatter because he walks us past a restaurant and I can’t help but take in the stunning sights, scents, and sounds. Music. The scent of fried foods. The smell of beer and liquor. The aroma of males and females together. Sounds of laughter and chatter. This village has its own restaurant! My world tilts again because that’s something I’d do if it were allowed. Open a restaurant in our village. A meeting place where people could enjoy themselves while eating food I make for them. A place where I could cook all the things I want to try making for people. But it would never work in Silver Hills. People don’t laugh. There’s no joy. We don’t have the means. It’s a life of strife under Wyatt’s thumb.

“Wahoo, Grey!” a female voice shouts out.

Someone else whistles and I hear clapping from the restaurant, too.

He doesn’t pay attention to them, just keeps us moving east, past more of the homes built along the river. I know from the map that it leads to Chariot Lake to the west and going east it runs down to Hollow Point where it tapers down to a creek that runs along the old highway and past Drowsy Hollow.

More heads turn our way from inside and outside of nearby homes and a pickup truck of teenagers whizzes by, shouting cheers as Greyson rushes along the sidewalk. Such pretty homes are dotted along the river; all the homes different from one another. Two of them have boats moored to docks.

One home has an elderly couple outside waving happily. They look so healthy and fit despite being advanced in years. They’re happy about this alpha carrying a strange woman through the village, because they believe he’s about to mate with his fated female. This is what they believe: that every alpha has a woman who was made for him, meant to be his. We don’t believe that. Father said it was a myth. A myth used by powerful alphas to steal attractive females from their families.

But I’m just plain. I’m too tall and thin. I have small breasts and narrow hips. I’m defective to men, though that doesn’t seem to stop them…

I told Wyatt once when we were younger, before Father died, that I thought the notion of fated mates was romantic. Wonderful. That I wondered if I was made for an alpha. Wondered what kind of alpha was made for me . Would he be smart? Kind? Generous?

Wyatt ridiculed me, schooled me that the measure of a man was about so much more than who he chose to fuck. He rolled his eyes at the notion of a woman being anything other than a broodmare who cooks and cleans. Then he educated me, saying that being an alpha’s daughter meant I was currency, not about to sit on a shelf until someone wanted to mate me for life. And I didn’t know how a person could be considered currency at the time, but I’ve certainly found out the meaning since then.

Wyatt feels that an alpha has the ability to mount anything and everything in sight, so why wouldn’t he take what was owed to him by his pack? It was ridiculous to think otherwise.

Father was only able to bear two children, Wyatt with his mom who died, then came me after Wyatt’s mother died, so that didn’t fit with the notion of mating for life.

Father taught Wyatt to take his due and because of what he’d been through with females, which was a long and sordid tale that changed almost every time I heard it recounted, Father’s opinion was that alphas should always take their due. Money. Power. Fealty. Women.

We move past a pretty home with a wide yard and I see a side patio where six people sit around a fire bowl grilling meat, waving at us, smiling. An older man is tying up his boat at a dock in front of another house two doors over. He gives us a thumbs up and calls out, “Congrats, Grey! Welcome to the pack, little lady!”

Next door to that there are three teenaged boys on bicycles in a driveway. They’re gesturing and elbowing one another, and I catch enough of their words to know they’re talking lewdly about the fact that Grey is about to go and mate a she-shifter.

Greyson picks up his pace with an even more determined expression on his face.

My nerves are fried; I’m on sensory overload.

A half a dozen or so homes past the teenagers, we turn right to go down another street lined with even more pretty buildings. This village has so many houses, but they’re not on top of one another like our village, where you can hear and smell absolutely everything and everyone around you.

Wyatt said this pack is at least five times the size of ours. Then again, more than half of our members have either run away or died in the past few years and our numbers are dwindling because of the lack of live births.

“We’re here,” Greyson breathes, and his eyes hit mine just briefly. They’re still like liquid silver.

His chest has been rising and falling the entire walk, not like he’s out of breath, more like he’s determined, gearing up to fight or something.

My heart skips a beat as my eyes cut away to take in the sight before me. A house. His house. In a minute, we’ll be alone together on the other side of the pretty bottle-green carved wooden door in front of us.

Wyatt initially wanted me to get into this village and scope it out for him, get them to take me in and give him the layout, where each of the extra-alpha ones live, but it felt too risky to simply show up and just pretend I was lost. He didn’t like that I defied that order at all and instructed Jimmy to lay a beating on me for it.

But it didn’t make sense to do that. Not that much of what Wyatt wants us to do does. They’d ask questions. I’m not a liar; don’t think I’d get away with trying to deceive anyone.

I fibbed when I told Jimmy that the last time one of them was in the diner, his nose twitched around me. I told him I thought it was one of the extra-alpha ones and that I was concerned he could scent me past my masking agent. I said I thought I should keep my distance.

Jimmy bought the excuse, didn’t beat me, but he told me if Wyatt asks, to say that he did. Jimmy also told me if I defied another order he’d have no choice but to dole out Wyatt’s punishment. Jimmy also made me give over whatever money I had that day as payment for him defying Wyatt. And I know the money was for Jimmy, that Wyatt wouldn’t have seen it. I said nothing and forked it over. Jimmy told me to hang tight and wait for more instructions, but to keep poisoning them, particularly their alphas.

Under Wyatt’s dictatorship, most of the rest of his men, particularly his inner circle, men under forty… they’re like jackals. Survival of the fittest. Most everyone who is left will do whatever it takes to stay off Wyatt’s radar, but things are such that everyone is always a little hungry and therefore doing desperate or even underhanded things.

Though I’ve defied Wyatt on a few things during this whole mess, like lying about my tip amounts so he can’t take them all, I have had no choice but to do most of his bidding. Several alphas and other shifters came into the diner throughout my short time there and the only time I did any poisoning was when Jimmy was present, at the counter by the dessert case, his scent masked, knowing he scented the alphas who walked in.

I’ve been straddling a line between not wanting to do harm and desperately wanting to help my pack. If I followed Wyatt’s orders and he was able to do what he wants and take over, he says he’d bring our pack over and we’d be living in the land of milk and honey. If we got a fresh start, we’d have a chance at more than the bleak existence we’ve had. The close proximity to the bustling town could give us access to new opportunities to survive. But I’m sure it would only happen if we got Wyatt out of the way before he ran things into the ground here, too.

The best chance we have is to find a way to usurp Wyatt and turn things around. That’s where Malachi comes in.

If I’m allowed to pair up with him, he could get closer to Wyatt. We’ve had some exchanges that let me know Mal is more than open to becoming the pack’s alpha. He’d love to challenge Wyatt, but he needs to get stronger for that to happen successfully.

We tested that herb out before I got here on a few of the stronger betas in our pack, including Malachi, and they all got ill and couldn’t shift, couldn’t fight very well when Wyatt took pleasure in laying beatings on them. Wyatt refused to risk it by trying the herb himself, so we didn’t know how it would work on an alpha.

Three times in the diner, I’ve slipped that herb mixture in local shifters’ desserts. The pie has been a good decoy because the herb is sweet, too. And the dessert case is by the cash register so not served by the kitchen. Waitresses slice, dress with toppings, and serve it and I’ve put the herb mixture on top before I dress the pie with the whipped cream and a cherry.

I don’t know if it affects alphas the way it affected betas in our pack, but luckily before I gave Jimmy back the rest of the herb, I put some aside, disguised the scent in my suitcase under the lining. I figured if Mal gets into Wyatt’s inner circle and gets to shift more, gets stronger, I could serve it to Wyatt ahead of a battle.

Wyatt saw me taking extra care with nursing Mal back to health after Wyatt beat him, so dangled Mal like a carrot for me, assuming I was crushing on him. He told me maybe he’d pair us up when I got back. If I succeed with my mission.

I’ve failed epically and I’d expect to be viewed as an enemy to this pack. But instead of hurting me, instead of making an example of me in the public square like Wyatt would’ve done, this alpha has taken me home, saying he’ll make me his. He’s carried me. Not dragged me by my hair. He gave me his shirt, so I was shielded from the cold in that cell.

I’ll have to do whatever he demands, obviously, and hope I won’t be murdered afterwards. It has occurred to me that maybe he thinks I’m just a dumb woman who will get on all fours for him hoping he genuinely wants me as a mate when really, he’s just going to have his way without a fight and then plans to throw me back in that cell and torture me into telling him what he wants to know. But that doesn’t compute because of everything I’ve seen since he walked me out of that cell and faced-off with the other alphas.

They didn’t act like angry apes. They acted like friends. I even addressed them all directly, having the nerve to ask what I smelled like to them. Nobody reprimanded me for it.

My mind is all over the place because I’m so thrown off.

In the cell, it occurred to me that maybe he’d use me as a bargaining chip to lure Wyatt here. But if this pack kills Wyatt, that’ll be the end of our problems. We can start again.

Yes, it’s awful to even ponder that the death of your own brother might not be all that bad, but anyone who lives under Wyatt’s reign of abuse would feel this way.

Wyatt is all I have left of my immediate family. I’ve got Aunt Shea, Jimmy, and Lucas. Addy is practically a cousin and I’m close with Misty and some of the other girls, but my only remaining immediate family member has brought me nothing but abuse and heartache.

Greyson moves us toward the green door by walking down a slightly sloping driveway of the prettiest house. There are three levels. It’s white brick with a garage on the bottom level, a steep pitched roof with black metal scrolled balconies on the second and third floors. The lush lawn is dominated by shrubs and even has two rosebushes. He has a neighbor on one side and a park on the other.

It's a good-sized park with playground equipment, benches, and a walking path leading to another street.

I feel choked up. There are flowers everywhere. On people’s lawns. In the park. Hanging in big pots from hooks attached to the posts holding the streetlamps. There’s a tricycle on the driveway next door. A basketball net on the driveway across the street. Someone has a sprinkler on, showering their lawn with what smells like clean water! I have the urge to shift and eat this beautiful green grass. And the urge is strong.

This village looks and smells incredible. He smells incredible.

There’s no way this is really about to happen. Greyson Blackwood is not about to take me into this big, beautiful house and claim me as his one and only forever mate. I can’t fathom it. We’ll get inside and his eyes will change. His gorgeous mouth will twist into one of those ugly smiles I know too well, and then he’ll tell me he was joking. Just keeping me docile.

He’ll probably do terrible things to me to punish me until Tyson Savage has the chance to dole out his revenge for what I did. These extra-alpha alphas will probably all take turns debasing me before they choose to mangle me and leave my remains in the center of this village so everyone here can shift, chew my bones and then take their turns urinating on them. That’s what Wyatt would do if some woman showed up to poison some of our pack and shoot someone important. He’d play with that woman for days until she begged for death.

But, I already know from all I’ve seen and heard that he’s not like Wyatt. That none of these awful things will happen. But I just can’t wrap my mind around what he’s said. Around what could happen. That he scents me as his fated mate. That can’t be right.

Aphra’s words come to me again, saying I’m the key to our pack’s future, the key to change for my pack. Is today the beginning of that?

This handsome, strong, extra-alpha alpha from Arcana Falls can’t truly be all he seems. Can’t believe I’m meant to be his . If we go inside and he doesn’t turn mean, I’ll know I must be dreaming. I didn’t wake up this morning and shoot Tyson Savage. I didn’t shift and run and then get tackled by the tall, muscled guy with the color-changing eyes and the salacious smile. He didn’t carry me, naked and crying back to his village and then dress me in his soft t-shirt and give me Kleenex. I’m not being taken to his home to be claimed and kept sheltered and fed for the rest of my days. I’ll never get to laugh and enjoy myself in that restaurant without a care in the world because everything in my world is right. No way.

It'll all go bad like it always does.

Or, any minute now, I’ll wake up in that motel room and know this was a dream. It’ll mean I still have to go hide in the woods and hope to catch sight of Tyson Savage so I can shoot him. So I can be a murderer in order to further Wyatt’s twisted agenda in the hopes it’ll really help me to help my people.

“This is home,” Greyson says, and he says this with weight to it that I feel in my chest.

Wyatt laughs at the idea of fated mates. Monogamy. Love. Wyatt believes the alpha is the king and everyone in his kingdom exists to serve him as he rules with his iron fist, a thundering anger, as everything he touches turns to charred ash and foul-smelling rubble.

Our past wasn’t easy but our present and future under Wyatt’s reign is bleak. There haven’t been any live births in too long. There have been too many deaths and too many running away.

While there are some couples in our pack that haven’t fled, they’re older. They’re leftovers from our father’s generation. And so many of them have gotten sick and died in the past year. They take a sudden turn and despite our best efforts, they wither quickly.

Most women in our pack are fair game, especially the pretty ones like Adelaide, Ellie, and Caroline. And Wyatt takes his pick of the prettiest ones on a regular basis. Women are fair game to him, and we’re used as rewards for his betas. There was also that night Wyatt got really drunk and did that awful thing and made those threats. I shove that memory aside.

Can this Arcana Falls alpha really think he’s meant to mate with me? Mate, not just copulate? Is this a dream? A lie? It doesn’t feel like a lie. The entire village wouldn’t be in on the lie so convincingly, would they? My mind is whirling like a tornado.

“Take a deep breath and calm down. It’s gonna be all right, Blossom, I promise,” Greyson whispers and then he pushes the door open.