Page 109 of The Wolves of Forest Grove

My arrow left my bow, sailing through the mist of early morning and into the target, burrowing into its heart.

Damn.

The third bullseye of the morning. That had to be a good sign, right? Maybe it meant today wasn’t going to be the epic failure I was dreading it would be.

Stop thinking like that.

Failure wasn’t an option. If we failed tonight, it would mean more than losing an opportunity to expose Ryland for what we all thought he was—it could mean we didn’t get to see the sunrise tomorrow. That this cool mist caressing my cheeks would be the last kiss I ever received.

I shuddered, shaking off the chill clinging to my bones, and notched another arrow. My shoulder twinged with a sharp pain, and I relaxed it, dropping my arm to roll my shoulder once, twice, three times the charm.

We may have healed quick as a whip, but when you’d been putting your body through what I’d been forcing mine to endure these past three days, it was bound to leave some lasting aches and pains.

The defensive training Clay and I had started weeks ago had started up again.

After coming up with a promising, if a more than a little risky plan to find some evidence of what we feared, Clay had insisted we start again.

I agreed, but I’m not sure I would’ve if I’d known how hard he’d intended to push me.

We didn’t just train in the mornings anymore.

We trained after school, too, since my job was no more.

Sometimes he ever insisted on my sparring with Jared in the evenings, to get some actual practice.

Clay was too big for us to be evenly matched.

I was getting quicker. Stronger. And he’d taught me some dirty tricks.

But there were certain positions he would get me in where I simply had no hope of getting out.

His weight was too much for me, especially after he’d already worn me out with a good long run and an icy dip in the stream.

I could best him in strength if I were fresh and ready for it, though, a fact I did not let him forget.

Whatever strange power allowed me to have two mates and made me strong of will, seemed to also make me stronger than a shifter my size and age should have been.

At least, that’s what Clay and Jared said, and until I was in a real fight, I’d never know if it was true or if they were just saying it as an excuse because they didn’t like being knocked on their asses by a girl.

I didn’t relish the thought, but I’d admit, I was a bit curious to put their theory to the test.

It made sense, I supposed. As much as anything made sense to me these days.

Finished with a long, rolling stretch of my shoulder, I notched the bow again and sent another arrow soaring. It sank in barely an inch above the bullseye. Not amazing, but still better than last week. I’d take it.

I reached for another and frowned when my fingers grasped empty air. Had I really already used them all? I sighed, snatching up the quiver from where it leaned against my ankle to go and retrieve my arrows, slinging the bow across my back.

This was the first morning I’d woken before Clay in time to come out here before he could drag me away for another lesson, and I breathed deeply.

The scents of cold pine and molting leaves were a comforting undercurrent to the stronger scent of the mist itself.

Like dew. Or the smell of the earth after it rained.

It reminded me of simpler times.

Of mornings spent ten feet off the ground in Dad’s hunting blind, peering out the tent flaps to take in the dawn with a cup of hot oats and huckleberries.

I missed that girl.

Wondered if I’d ever know what it was like to be her again.

I was glad Jared suggested I go shoot some arrows before he had to leave early this morning. It was the best idea anyone had given me in a long time. I’d wanted him to come with me, but he insisted he had a quick errand to run for Ry about the quarry, and I couldn’t argue with him.

Especially not when it was to do with his uncle. I was terrified he would see everything that was going on written on my face. I still hadn’t told him.

I’d planned to. Especially after telling Layla and Viv. But even they agreed he shouldn’t know. Not until there was hard evidence to back it up.

So every day I was just more and more uncomfortable, waiting for the chance to put our half-baked plan into motion so I could finally say something to Jared. Even if that something was that I was a complete idiot and that there was nothing to tell.

A blaring chirp from my cell phone killed the calm of the moment, sending a cascade of blackbirds flocking to the sky, crowing their displeasure in their wake.

I fished it out, dropping the quiver near the target.

Clay: Where are you? Training in ten.

I groaned to myself, stuffing my phone back in my pocket without replying.

It chirped again, and I muttered to myself as I pulled it back out. Seriously?

Clay: Answer me or I’m going to assume you’re dead and need avenging.

Clay: Going once. Clay: Twice.

Allie: I’m coming. Allie: Chill.

I grumpily shoved my phone back into my pocket,

flicking the switch on the side to toggle it to silent mode. He could fucking wait. I wasn’t going to rush. Not today. He could kick my ass when I was good and ready to receive said ass kicking and not a minute sooner.

I snatched up my arrows and shoved them into the quiver, my chest tight.

“Happy birthday, Allie,” I told myself with a sarcastic snort, shouldering the quiver along with the bow for the long walk home.

When I finally made my way through the last of the trees and onto the dirt lawn, peering up grouchily at the front door, it was eerily quiet.

“Clay?” I called, searching the windows for any sign of him. I’d bumped into Jared on his way out to run an errand at the ass crack of dawn for Ry, and it looked like he still wasn’t back yet, either. “I’m back!”

When he didn’t materialize, I dutifully checked my phone, assuming because I’d muted him that he’d likely gone on that murderous rampage he’d threatened before I left the clearing. Shit.

It buzzed in my hand before I could turn it on.

Clay: Behind you.

I spun, jumping when I spotted him leaning casually against a tree at the far side of the property. The bastard had clearly watched me stomp back onto the property and hadn’t said a word.

“What are you doing?” I asked, setting my things down on the porch.

Here I was in sweats, a tank, and loose-fitting sweater, ready for an ass whooping, and he was…

What the hell was he doing?

Clay wore his signature dark wash denim jeans, but these weren’t the grease stained ones I’d grown accustomed to seeing on him. These were…well, they looked brand new.

He even had a fitted black button-up on, the sleeves rolled to the crease of his elbows, making his forearms look drool-worthy and biceps like cannons.

And was that product in his hair?

“What did you do?” I asked, suddenly very aware of the scent of jasmine on the breeze. And the rustle of something coming from behind the cabin. “I told you I didn’t want—”

“Too bad.”

“Ugh.”

“Ugh, yourself,” Clay countered with a wicked smirk, coming to stand before me.

My shoulders slumped, giving in to whatever horribly embarrassing thing I was clearly going to have to endure whether I liked it or not. At least it looked like I was getting out of training today.

Look at the bright side.

Clay drew me in for a hug, and I let him, giving in as soon as his spicy metallic scent reached my nose. He brushed his lips against the top of my head, and I shuddered in his arms. “Happy birthday, baby.”

Despite myself, my lips curled into a grin hidden against him. I fought back a sudden urge to cry and broke the hug, knowing if I stayed there, eventually, it was going to happen.

“Thanks,” I muttered, my voice watery. I inhaled sharply and pushed air out through my lips. “Let’s get this over with.”

“That’s my girl,” Clay said, scooping me up from the ground and flinging me into his arms as he charged into a sprint, carrying me at a breakneck speed, squealing all the way until we were around the cabin, head on in front of the shop.

My feet touched back down on solid ground at the same time a cheer of “Happy Birthday!” rang out from inside the shop.

I nearly tripped on the gravel but managed to right myself in time to catch a hug from Jared. He lifted me from the ground, spinning me in a circle before putting me back down.

Somewhere in the shop, music began to play. Clay’s playlist—now my favorite—starting up at the first song of the list.

Once the shock abated, I wrapped my arms around Jared, hugging him back tightly and whispering in his ear, “You dirty little liar.”

He hadn’t been going to run an errand at all. The bugger had been here the whole time. He hadn’t gone on an errand for Ryland. He’d suggested I go shoot some arrows to get me to leave.

“Worth it,” he whispered, his breath tickling my neck. “How was the morning?”

“Peaceful,” I replied, my insides quaking as he brushed his lips quickly against the base of my neck before pulling away, purposefully trying to drive me mad if his smirk was any evidence.

“That’s what I was hoping.”

“Hey,” Layla called, butting past Jared for a firm hug. “My turn.”

She kissed both my cheeks when she pulled away. “So,” she asked, gripping me by the arms with a conspiratorial look. “How does it feel? The big one- eight?”

I nodded, grinning. “It’s…liberating,” I said after a moment of thought.

I’d texted Uncle Tim this morning and told him I wouldn’t be needing his check in calls anymore—that he could get back to his glitz and glam life in Florida tending to the every whim of his selfish wife.

But, you know, in a much nicer, more mature way than that.

First thing Monday I’d have the school remove him as my parental contact.

How did that saying go?

Oh yes. I am the master of my own destiny.