Page 2 of Forcing Fate (Wildheart Pack #1)

Cole

The smell of burgers and fried chicken has my mouth watering and makes me tap my foot impatiently on the diner’s linoleum floor.

Maybe I should’ve waited outside. I would still be hungry while waiting for my family’s takeout order, but there wouldn’t be the temptation to take food directly off somebody’s plate and eat it right in front of them.

They’re usually quicker than this around here.

Just my luck for them to be running slow when it’s my turn to pick up food.

“Only another couple of minutes.” The girl at the hostess stand gives me an apologetic smile that drops off her face when I don’t return it.

Normally, I wouldn’t mind passing the time flirting with a random girl, especially a cute one with a big rack like this girl.

I don’t know what it is, but in the five minutes I’ve sat on this bench waiting for my order, my mood has tanked. My wolf is restless.

When I look over my shoulder to distract myself from the sight of so many plates full of food, it almost doesn’t come as a surprise to find a familiar blonde loading groceries into the rust bucket she still drives.

Did my wolf sense her presence before I noticed her? It would explain why it sort of feels like he wants to burst out of my clothes. The sight of the useless half-breed who killed my parents tends to do that.

The aroma of the food fades into the background along with the chatter around me.

Everything focuses on her. Nora. She looks like she threw on whatever rags she grabbed first before heading out.

Her long blonde hair is pulled up in a bun on top of her head with strands hanging around her face.

The way she struggles with a pair of heavy bags as she tries to maneuver them into the backseat makes me smile—any example of her having difficulty usually has that effect.

That’s probably why Tara and I spent so much of our high school years making sure little Nora never had a moment of peace.

Why should she? Why should we let her get away with what she did to Mom and Dad, then go on with her life? No fucking way.

A car passes close to where she’s about to open the driver’s door, and she stops before shooting a dirty look at the other car.

For some reason, the corner of my mouth tugs upward before I know what I’m doing.

This is probably the first time I’ve ever seen her do more than stand around with her head down and her chin tucked too close to her chest. Like she was always worried about getting hurt, even as she pretended to ignore my twin sister and me for all those years of school.

Like I couldn’t see straight through her.

When her head swings back around, there’s a split second when she pauses and her face falls. I’m almost sure she sees me sitting here, watching her. I would swear her light blue eyes find mine, and they narrow a little.

Now I remember what I hate about her most: her peaches and cream skin.

Her delicate features. The light scattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose—I’m too far away to see them now, but I could practically draw a map of them from memory.

I’ve stared down at her enough times and watched her face go ghostly white so the freckles stand out.

I’ve stared into those huge blue eyes, and watched pain and dread dance in them.

She could pretend all she wanted that it didn’t affect her when we made her life hell, but her eyes always gave her away.

She has no right, being that beautiful. Someone with an ugly soul doesn’t deserve to look so angelic on the outside. Over the years, as she has blossomed, it’s only made me hate her more.

“To-go order!” The chipper announcement is like a wrecking ball smashing through my distraction.

There are two full bags of food on the counter, which I pick up, murmuring my thanks before turning back toward the front window.

Nora’s gone, letting a mom in a minivan take the space across the street.

My wolf is quieter now. I guess his agitation had to do with her, and it makes me wonder if he senses her because of what she did to Mom and Dad.

Like she’ll always be in his crosshairs.

The idea won’t leave me alone through the drive home, where of course my siblings are waiting impatiently for our order.

I need to push that useless little nothing out of my head.

“Fuck, I thought I was going to have to eat my own arm,” my brother Zeke says as he clears space on the kitchen table while Tara sets out plates. “I was thinking about driving around, making sure you didn’t get in an accident or anything. ”

A look of reverence comes over his face as he starts pulling containers out of the bags I set on the counter. “When I imagine all of this going to waste in the car, it chokes me up a little.”

Rolling my eyes, I mutter, “Glad to know you were so concerned about me.”

“I knew you were fine,” Tara assures me, using a scrunchie on her wrist to pull back her long, black hair like she’s preparing to dive into her meal.

“I know, I know. It’s a twin thing.” Zeke rolls his eyes, setting Declan’s food out, though I haven’t seen our brother since I got home. Being the pack alpha isn’t exactly a nine-to-five job. We grew up knowing Dad could be called away at any second to handle something pack-related.

Tara notices the direction my gaze traveled. “He’ll be right back. Some kind of minor issue that needed to be cleared up.”

“The bear clans are getting a little too friendly with our borders.” Zeke’s cheerful attitude falls away before he basically consumes half of a steak sandwich with one bite. With his mouth full, he adds, “They’ve been hunting on our land.”

That isn’t minor. “They’ve been a little too free and easy with the border before now, haven’t they?” I muse. The bacon on my burger is perfectly crisp, and it melts on my tongue before I groan happily and take another bite.

“Exactly,” Zeke mutters around a mouthful of fries. “Something’s going to have to be done.”

“Can we not talk about this while we’re trying to eat dinner?” Tara asks. “Don’t get me wrong, I love hearing about ripping a bunch of bears’ heads off, but give me a break.”

The back door swings open, and in walks Declan, looking like he wishes he wasn’t the firstborn in our family. If it had been me or Zeke, Declan could be sitting here instead, shoving food into his mouth. Rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, he jerks his chin at me. “What’s wrong?”

The surprise question makes me stop chewing. “What?”

“You drove past me on your way back here, looking like you had either just committed murder or were on the way to do it.” With a rueful chuckle, he takes a seat and tears into his order. “I mean, thank you, since you gave me an excuse to come home. Did something happen in town?”

Now all eyes are on me. My wolf is uneasy again, filling my head with pressure.

Damn right, something happened in town. I was faced with the reminder of why my brother had to take over as alpha at such a young age.

Why my brothers and sister, and I had to fend for ourselves—not that the pack abandoned us, but there’s no substitute for parents, especially as young as we were when they died.

Nobody needs to be reminded of her right now. “Some asshole cut me off on the road,” I mutter, lifting a shoulder. “I was still pissed about it, I guess.”

Declan and Zeke accept my excuse without pushing for more information, but Tara gives me a thoughtful look, chewing slowly.

Of course, she would see through me. We joke about the whole twin thing—if anything, it irritates Zeke a little, and we both like getting under his skin.

But there are times I’m sure she hears my thoughts the way I would swear I can hear Nora’s.

Why did I have to see her today? There’s a sour taste in my mouth now that no amount of soda will erase.

She hangs over me, too, invading what was supposed to be a night spent hanging out together, the way we try to do whenever we can.

Becoming orphaned the way we were can either tear the siblings apart or it can bring them closer.

I’m just glad I actually enjoy spending time with them.

It would suck to be related to a bunch of people I can’t stand.

But tonight, the last thing I feel like doing is sitting down to watch a movie together.

That restless feeling has me in its claws again, and it makes sitting still feel like torture.

There’s a thin sheen of sweat on the back of my neck by the time I give up in the middle of the movie I wasn’t paying attention to, anyway.

“I’m going to go on a run,” I announce, already headed for the back door.

“You okay?” Tara calls out behind me, but I pretend not to hear her.

No, I’m far from okay. I can’t remember the last time I was this far from it.

And I don’t have the first idea why as I strip down on the back porch, leaving my clothes in a neat pile before letting the shift take over so my wolf can get rid of some of this energy.

A warm night breeze ruffles my black fur before I start off. The world is sharper now, clearer, thanks to my wolf’s vision. I head for the woods, paws slapping the earth, running hard enough to make my lungs burn by the time I’m concealed in deep shadow.

Still, it’s not enough. I run, and I run until my legs are tired and my breath comes in heavy pants, and it’s still not enough to ease my unrest. I don’t know where I’m going. I only know there’s no shaking this sense of something important I have to do. Something that won’t let me be.

It’s not until I come to a break in the tree line that I realize where I’ve ended up.

I’ve been here a few times, back in the early days when I wanted to get a good look at the girl who killed my parents.

Why is she looming so large in my head tonight?

Instinct draws me closer to the house, which is mostly dark and quiet, except for a light burning in the kitchen window, facing a large backyard.

I should go, but I’m glued in place, staring at the window, watching a small figure move back and forth in front of it.

It has to be her. Is she doing chores? Why am I so interested?

My wolf’s breath comes slowly now, and there’s almost a sense of contentment stirring in my chest by the time the light flips off.

I wait, watching, almost pleased when another light goes on upstairs. She’s going to bed now.

What does it matter, for fuck’s sake? I shake myself free and turn around to go home. Everyone will be wondering what’s taking so long.

But a whining noise makes me stop. My wolf, complaining, wanting to stay.

But why? Why is it so important all of a sudden that I stay here and watch as she walks past the window, silhouetted against thin curtains? Why, when the light goes out, do I still stand and stare up at the darkened window?

Why is there this sense of something important I need to stick around for?