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Page 3 of Twilight Echoes (A New Dawn #7)

2

A very pulled out her cell and placed it on the vanity in her dressing room. In the three months that had passed since her sister Amanda had first blinked out fairy dust, Avery and the rest of her sisters had all sat around waiting for it to happen.

Only it didn’t.

Until today.

And in front of Darrell Hughes of all people.

What the hell did that mean?

It couldn’t possibly mean what she thought.

That would be crazy.

Only, Darrell was a wolf. And an alpha wolf to boot.

“Hey, little sister,” Amanda said. “How’s Twinkle Toes today?”

“That’s a loaded question,” she mumbled. “How are you feeling? And how’s Jackson?” Avery missed her sister so much. Vermont was only four hours away, but still, she used to see Amanda nearly every day. Now it was more like once a month. And it had been three weeks since their last visit.

“I still have a bit of morning sickness, which is more like vomiting fairy dust, if that makes any sense. My fairy powers are growing, but it’s hard to separate what are mine and what are the twins. And what’s weirder is that I can hear the babies talk. Well, they do not talk, but they have their own language. I sort of understand it. Jackson gets it better than I do. And Dromon and Sadie are always around, yapping at my belly.”

Avery laughed. “Sounds amusing.”

“It is.”

“Well, I’ve got two weird ones for you,” Avery said. “First, guess who is now the choreographer for the ballet?”

“Oh no. They replaced Brandon? You’ve been working with him for seven years. You love him. What happened?”

Avery took a tissue and dabbed her eyes. “He has cancer. He starts chemo next week. Poor man. But he has a positive attitude and lots of support.”

“I’m so sorry, sis. That sucks,” Amanda said. “Who did they get to take over?”

“Darrell Hughes.”

“Oh my God. You had such a crush on that wolf.” Amanda laughed. “Auntie Alley was mortified that you danced with him. She thought for sure he was going to ruin you. She made it weirder when you had all those posters in your bedroom and made Daddy take you to watch him perform.”

“Speaking of that crazy witch, did you hear she’s still making a stink in prison, accusing Jackson of setting her up and using black magic to do it.”

“Yeah. No one is listening,” Amanda said. “So, is Darrell still as adorable as ever?”

“Oh, he’s something all right. But that brings me to weird thing number two. He’s so sexy that I blinked fairy dust right off my lashes. Then it came out of my fingers.” Avery waved her hand, half expecting to see the strange particles, but nothing happened.

“What? No way. Are you serious? Have you told anyone? Daddy? Called Trask?”

“I’ve been a little busy at rehearsal and trying to make sure I can contain that shit so no one notices,” Avery said. “But I think Darrell saw it.”

“Interesting. It’s hard for me to control it all now because a lot of it isn’t mine. But what is, I can sense. You’ll figure that out. You’ll feel something build deep in your core. If you concentrate on that, you can command it to your body. But it gets really hard when the wolf—the mate—that unlocked it is present.”

“Darrell can’t be that,” Avery muttered. “Do you know what that means?”

“Yeah. Either he’s already imprinted on you or the fated mating has begun.”

“That is so fucking weird. I’m only twenty-four years old. I don’t want to be pumping out babies.” She shivered. “I planned on dancing for this company for a couple more years. After that, I might turn in the toe shoes and choreograph for a major ballet. Or maybe even start my own touring company. But settling down is not on my radar.”

“Maybe not. And who knows how long it will take for that to happen,” Amanda said. “But come on, Avery. Would having Darrell as your forever be so bad?”

Avery contemplated that thought for about three and a half seconds before shoving it to the side. “Not the point.”

“I’ve lived on this farm now for three months. I’ve learned so much about the myths, legends, and predictions. No one really knows what it all means for the paranormal world. The first pairings unlocked the royal fairies and brought back wolfairies. But even Trask doesn’t understand what’s happening now. His visions have been scrambled. His word, not mine. And the new history books are at a standstill.”

“No, they're not,” Jackson’s voice boomed across the speaker. “Who are you chatting with, my love?”

“Avery. You’re not going to believe what happened,” Amanda said.

“Why did you have to go and tell him?” Avery groaned.

“Babe, put it on speaker,” Jackson said. “Hi, Avery. Blinking fairy dust, are you? What wolf brought that out?”

“Her new choreographer. But she knew him when she was little. Danced with him even,” Amanda cooed. It sounded like she was way too amused, and that annoyed Avery.

“Name?” Jackson asked.

“I doubt you’ve ever heard of him.” Avery sighed as she fiddled with her hair. “But it’s Darrell. Darrell Hughes.”

“Well, shit,” Jackson said. “He’s the new pack leader of the Red River Pack. It’s a small pack, and the numbers have been dwindling for years. They have only two factions and are one of the topics of the next National Twilight Crossing Council meeting. His father recently passed away, handing the torch to him. Only, it’s being treated as an unnatural death.”

Avery gasped. How horrible for Darrell. “What does that mean?” She remembered Darrell’s father. Actually, she had met his entire family. They were kind and gentle people. And they had always supported Darrell and his dreams. Even if that meant Darrell would defer his role as pack leader.

Or so that’s what Avery had read in an entertainment piece about Darrell a few years ago.

“I can’t get into the specifics,” Jackson said. “That wolf has a lot on his mind. I’m sure if he saw fairy dust coming from you, he’s not thinking about what that could all mean for him right now, even if he knows he’s imprinted on you.”

“You make it sound like that’s a given, and that can’t be happening.” Avery leaned forward, snagging her lip gloss, and puckered. Her heart ached for Darrell. She couldn’t imagine losing either of her parents.

“A couple of hours ago, a new history book started. The images are fuzzy and to be fair, Cheryl can’t make them out. All that we’ve seen is a wolf with a bum paw. Whatever is going on with him, though, is getting worse, and whoever his fate is, she’s so far off in the distance, we can’t see her yet,” Jackson said. “Dayton is concerned that she’s out of reach because what happened to the wolf has the potential to change the course of our predetermined history.”

“I don’t want your future to change, but I’m not getting knocked up because of low-hanging double moons. Not at twenty-four.”

“If it’s written in the stars, it’s kind of hard to mess with,” Amanda said. “Unless some wicked witch like our aunt casts a spell. So, suck it up, Twinkle Toes. Looks like you’re next.”

“I’m not listening to this, and don’t you dare tell Mom and Dad. I’ll deal with that shit.” Avery stood and smoothed down the front of her jeans. Her entire life she’d been the sweet little ballerina. Polite and never raised her voice.

Or swore.

At least not in public.

But with her family and few close friends, she could truly be herself. That included dropping the royal act. “I have to go. Darrell wants to see me in his office. I’ll talk with you later.”

She tossed her purse over her shoulder, sucked in a deep breath, and focused on her core. Auras weren’t her superpower as a witch. No. She was a healer and studied potions and mixology in witch school, but much to her parents’ dismay, she never fully developed the talent, nor went into medicine. Her dancing took up too much time. But they supported her, and in return, she made sure she carved out an hour every day to continue to hone her craft. But she’d never be a master, and she was okay with that.

And so were her parents. They beamed with pride every time she floated across the stage.

Her auntie Alley, on the other hand, constantly berated her, telling her she’d pissed away her true calling.

Avery disagreed.

With her head held high, she strolled down the hallway toward Darrell’s office. For as long as she could remember, Darrell had been the golden child of the studio. The one dancer, of all the dancers, who would be a star. He was destined for greatness, and everyone knew it. Every little girl dreamed of being paired with him when he'd come into the younger classes, even if it was only for eight counts. If you had the privilege of being on his arm, you would look better for it.

But even at the ripe old age of five, Avery understood that dancing with someone like Darrell meant all your flaws would be showcased for the instructors to see. There was no hiding behind his greatness.

Either you stepped out from his shadow and became one with his moments.

Or you fell on your ass.

Avery had not wanted to dance with Darrell that day. She’d been utterly terrified that her name had been called. Not only had she been the youngest in the class, but he towered over her, and she was considered tall for her age with legs that stretched on forever. She thought for sure her dreams of making it into the ballet company would have to wait another year. It wasn’t a big deal. She was only a small child.

And the reality was, until the music had started, she had no idea how badly she’d wanted it.

She rounded the corner and tapped on the door. “You wanted to see me.”

Lifting his gaze, he smiled. “Come in and close the door.” He sat behind an old wooden desk and leaned back in a big leather chair. He pushed aside some papers. His long hair rested over his shoulders. He had deep, dark, soulful eyes that reached right into her heart. He looked so strong and powerful behind that desk. But there was a sense of sadness that filled the room. “How did things go with Olivia?”

“I believe she liked it less than I did.” Avery set her purse on the floor and eased her butt into the chair opposite the desk. She’d been in this office many times with Brandon. When she’d first joined the company as an understudy, she had the biggest crush on that man. For a mere human, he was spectacular.

But little did she know he was dating the front office manager, Mike. They made for an adorable couple and over the years, she and Brandon became good friends.

The best.

It broke her heart what that man and his family faced.

She’d have to create a healing potion. It wouldn’t cure. They never did. But it did work with the treatments, and it would ease his suffering.

“Now why do you say that?” Darrell asked. A hint of playfulness sparked in his eyes.

“Because she acted like a brat having to eat her vegetables before she got dessert.”

He laughed. “I shouldn’t be surprised.” He tapped his fingers on a stack of papers. “I’m a little late on reading up on everyone and it turns out her daddy has spoiled her rotten. And still does, buying her everything her little heart demands, but he can’t buy her a position as principal dancer.”

“No, he can’t. And she’s really not bad, if she’d put some effort into it. She’s lackadaisical and undisciplined. I doubt she practices at all.”

Darrell waggled his fingers. “As opposed to the person who practices so hard she’s destroying her body? Brandon wrote in his notes that you often come in early and stay late.”

She cocked her head. “I’m fine. I know my limits and yes, I push myself hard. But I’ve had to work my ass off for the respect of everyone on that stage.” She held up her hand. “In some ways, people’s perceptions of me are no different than Olivia. There are critics out there who are constantly waiting in the wings for the little royal witch ballerina to fuck up. Pardon my language.”

“You’re not five. I think you’re allowed to say fuck if you want to.” He waved his hand dismissively as if her choice of foul words didn’t offend him.

Well, it offended most people when she used it.

She cleared her throat. “I work so hard because if I don’t, people will accuse me of what you just said about her and let’s face it. Not only am I a royal, my daddy’s wealthy, and I’m his baby. I could play that card if I wanted.”

“I’m sorry, Avery, but no one who has followed your career could ever accuse you of that.” He rose, stepped around his desk, sat in the chair beside her, and leaned back. “Yeah, sure. Your father is rich. You have the title of Lady. You live a life of privilege. And I get that the interpretation of dance can sometimes be subjective to those who don’t know anything about it. But you can’t fake technique.” He took her hand and placed it over the center of his chest.

And there went the fucking fairy dust. It snaked around his body and if she wasn’t mistaken, she could have sworn it giggled like a child racing off to play in the backyard.

She sucked in a deep breath, desperately trying to command it back to her body.

It didn’t listen.

Fucking fairy dust.

Fucking wolves.

Fucking Legend of the Fated Moons.

“You also can’t fake passion. Two things you have. I know Olivia has the talent. But I don’t know if she has the drive or the passion.”

“She’s passionate in her assumption I’m never leaving and don’t want her around.”

He dropped her hand, letting his fingers run through the dust. It disappeared into his skin. “What do you have to say about those two things?”

“Every principal dancer needs an understudy. I just wish she took her role more seriously.”

He lowered his chin. “How did Gwen treat you?”

“Like a little mosquito she wanted to slap.” She shook her head. “Oh no. I see where you’re going. I get I threatened Gwen. Olivia is no threat. I’m not saying that because I’m conceited or believe my shit doesn’t stink. Everyone is replaceable. I know that. I also do know that my time as principal is limited. I disagree with how long I have left, but let’s table that for now. I don’t treat Olivia badly. I get frustrated with her because she’s on her phone or she pouts. And she certainly never came running for Brandon like she did today for you.”

“New meat to impress, but she wasn’t prepared, and I can only do so much. Rehearsals can only do so much.” He squeezed her knee.

Sparks flew. And not just fairy dust either. Her insides exploded as if cannons were going off in the middle of a battlefield.

“I really want you to work with her and not only on technique. Be a mentor. Teach her everything you know about the numbers. The emotions. I want you to show her that you care, because I know you care about this company.”

He had her there. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Did you do this with any of your understudies?”

“I did, and the first time, I hated it, but if that shifter had his way, he would have pushed me offstage, poisoned me, or sold me to the devil if it meant he got to be the lead male. He didn’t care about the other dancers. Or how we all worked together. He only cared about himself. That’s the difference between you and almost everyone else on that stage. Brandon picked a great group. But I need to know about Olivia.”

“Why?” She folded her arms across her chest and glared. “A few hours ago you said you weren’t replacing me. Has something changed?” She blinked. More dust. Seemed when she got angry, it came on thicker.

Good to know.

“No. But it’s my job to ensure she’s ready to step up if you only need a night off. And she’s not even close to being ready. And if she doesn’t have what it takes, then I need to bring in someone else next year because, at best, you have only a few years left.” He waved his hand through the dust and audibly sighed. “But don’t you think we need to talk about this stuff? Because it changes everything.”

Her heartbeat lurched to the back of her throat. Her father constantly reminded her of the legend and what it meant for their family. For the world. Being the youngest, she figured she had years. And there was always the possibility that some other royal witch family would have the honors. Only, that was wishful thinking. “I don’t see how me being part fairy has anything to do with it.” Saying the words out loud didn’t mean she accepted their meaning. However, she wasn’t sure there was any escaping it.

“Seriously? That’s how you want to play this.” He took her hand and pressed his warm lips against the back of her palm. “Ignoring the dust for a second. I believe you felt what happened nineteen years ago.”

“What on earth are you talking about? We danced. We were kids.”

“True.” He stood, stuffing his hands in his pockets, and leaned against his desk. “Believe me, I get how weird it is, especially for someone who isn’t a wolf. But I studied for another four months at that studio. While I was in the senior group, and you were with the juniors, you couldn’t get enough of me. I would see you come into the viewing area to watch me every day.”

“There wasn’t a dancer there who didn’t, and every young girl had a crush on you.” She waved her hand, wishing she hadn’t as more fairy particles floated through the air like a magic wand. “But I was five flipping years old. I didn’t even know what that meant.”

“Maybe not. And trust me when I say, knowing I imprinted on you before I came of age, well, that has made for one hell of an awkward dating life for me all these years, knowing that you were out there, waiting for me.”

“Now you’re being a conceited asshole.”

“Not really. It’s just how imprinting works,” he said. “Are you going to tell me that you’ve been spewing fairy dust for years?” He leaned closer. “And before you think about lying, I’m an alpha wolf, and now leader of my pack. I attend local Twilight Crossing Council meetings. I’m bound by paranormal and human laws to protect fairies, wolfairies, and now your sister’s twins. I know all about the Legend of the Fated Moons. The four pairings of royal witch fairies and wolves and those wolves imprinted on their mates when they were young.” He arched a brow. “It was all predicted in those stupid watcher bubbles, and now the Twilight Crossing Council is doing what they can to protect the future.”

Christ. He’d accepted pack leader and she’d yet to offer her condolences. That should have been the first thing she’d done the second she stepped into his office. “Darrell, I literally just learned about your father. I’m so sorry. I know I was only a little girl, but I remember what a kind soul he was.” She smiled, hoping some of her healing powers would come through and ease Darrell’s aching heart. “He always took the time to talk to me, and he always brought me flowers after showcases.”

“In part because he always thought you special, even before he knew I’d imprinted,” Darrell said. “And thank you. I miss him terribly.”

“He was a good man.” A tightness filled her soul. It was deep and somewhat dark. It was as if a senseless black hole had opened inside her heart and sucked out all her blood.

Darrell nodded. “But now you’re using that to avoid what your fairy dust means for us.”

She jumped to her feet. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want that legend. And even if all that you're saying is true, I’m not ready to hang up my pointe shoes, settle down, and have a bunch of wizard and witch wolfairies. I’m way too young. I have a couple of good years left as principal. And then the world is still my oyster. This is all crazy talk. You’re good-looking. Actually, you’re sexy as hell, but I don’t even know you.”

“While I don’t want you rejecting me, I can’t say at thirty that I’m ready for that either, and perhaps it’s good that you’re fighting this and not accepting me right now because it all might not matter anyway.” He rubbed his temples. “I need you to do me a really big favor. It’s huge. Massive. But please, I need you to do it for me.”

“What is it?” She should have just said no, but she couldn’t deny the pull he had over her good sense. It was like she was driven to stand next to him or some such bullshit. And she wanted him to elaborate more on why he thought her pushing him away was a good idea. But verbalizing that question would mean she entertained the idea and that, she wasn’t ready to admit to herself.

“Can you tell me what my aura says?”

“That’s not my specialty.”

“But you are a witch, so you can see my aura.”

“I’m not an aura reader. That would be my sister Amanda.”

“But you can see them. Peer inside. Check them out, right?”

“Oh God, no. My father can look inside. So can Trask. And they could both see if someone tampered with any aspect of who you are at your core. My sister could, but she’s a little gun-shy after what happened with Jackson and nearly dying and all. Plus, now that her fate has been changed in this universe, her role with our coven is no longer that of a reader. She’d actually have to get Trask’s permission.” She covered her mouth. That information was forbidden to be shared. Trask’s visions for the future of the witch and wizard wolfairies were not clear. And they might not be until all the pairings were complete.

Shit. She did not want to be part of this plan.

“I know all about it.” He cocked his head. “When I became leader of my pack, I was given the details. But all paranormal creatures know about the Fated Moons. The world saw the two moons hanging in the sky. They assume it’s Jackson and Amanda. They just don’t know where they are or who the next pairing is, and right now, it’s not my biggest concern.”

“What is, then?”

“If you can’t do an aura reading, can you see them? Does that take a lot to do?”

“No. It would require a little more concentration from me, but I wouldn’t know what any of it meant,” she said. “Give me your hands.” She laced her fingers through his and focused on his energy. On his pulse. She squinted, but all she got was a faint reading. She tried again, but she got the same results. She pulled her hands away. “I can barely see yours and it’s not showing as layers like it should.”

“Is that normal?” He didn’t like playing dumb. As if he honestly believed his mate would lie, because he didn’t. But he had to be certain.

“Well, no. But like I said, this isn’t my area. While I studied it in witch school, it was my weakest skill. Honestly, I’m not the best witch at all. I practice every day, as I should. But it’s never been a passion like dance is.”

“But what you see with my aura now, it’s not right.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to admit this,” she said with a scowl. “The last showcase you performed in at the studio, I asked Amanda to read your aura.”

“You did now. How adorable.”

“Don’t make this weird.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “She told me your aura was vibrant and filled with passion and joy, but she saw a gray hue.”

“What does that mean?”

“Any number of things. It could have been because you had just exerted so much physical and emotional energy. Or something could have upset you that day. She suggested you could have been sad since you were leaving the studio. It could have even been caused by a cold.” She narrowed her eyes. “While auras change over one’s lifetime, they don’t fade like that. Not even when we’re near death.”

“I was afraid of that,” he whispered.

“Why?”

He stared at the ceiling. “Male alphas in my pack are coming down with the same illness that killed my father. We’ve had specialists in, and they have no idea what the illness is or how to treat it.”

“I don’t know if I should say anything, but Jackson mentioned something about your father dying of unnatural causes.”

“Chaz Ferguson told me they were discussing all this at the national meeting and would get back to me, but I need answers.”

“Who have you worked with in both the human and paranormal world?”

“Human doctors did all the normal tests and it appeared my father died of heart failure. But he was not an old man or had any heart issues at all. So, we called in a witch doctor, who said a black spell was cast on someone in my pack. It could have been my dad, but since he passed, and all his organic energy had already left his body, they couldn’t tell.” He held up his hand. “But it frightened her so badly she told us all we were cursed. Doomed. And to never seek her services again.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Avery let out a puff of air. “Any witch doctor can cast a reversing spell. Or at the very least, slow down the process, especially if they suspect it was indeed black magic.”

“The witch mentioned something about it being locked.”

“All black magic has been banned, but some covens have cursed their black magic, which is also illegal because it has devastating effects and can be irreversible to the person who cast it as well as to those who are inflicted.” She reached out, placing her warm hand on his aching knee. His muscles tightened, and a tingle filled his bloodstream. It gave him strength. “You need to find the source of the spell.”

“The witch doctor told us we need to find the wolf that carries the cursed spell, but since all high council members, all alpha males, and our pack leader exhibit signs of this illness, she couldn’t find the carrier. All she said was that we all had the same single-layer aura, and she had no idea what to do.”

“Oh no.” Tears welled in her eyes. “Every male is affected?”

“To varying degrees, yes.”

“And this witch doctor did nothing for you? No potions. No healing chants. Just left?” she asked.

“Not exactly.” He returned to the other side of his desk, easing back into his massive leather chair. “She did give us some healing potions, but all that seems to be doing is buying us time. She told me that the only people who could help me were Toldar and maybe your father. However, she also warned me not to take it to the Twilight Crossing Council.”

“Not sure why she told you not to take it to the council, but have you reached out to Trask?” She sat on the edge of the desk. “And you need to know Toldar prefers to be called Trask.”

“I’ve never met him.”

“Seriously? He attends the major Twilight Crossing Council meetings,” she said.

“My pack doesn’t have a seat at the national level. Only locally. And if our numbers keep dropping, we’ll need to merge with another one. Chaz has already made the offer.” He leaned over and took her hand. “Do you have any idea how soothing this dust feels? It’s better than any healing potion that witch doctor gave me.”

“I’m told that when a witch is part fairy, the dust can take on the attributes of the witch’s specialty. Even though I’m not a master, I’m still a healer, so that’s good. Maybe it’s helping to slow down whatever it is that is killing you.” She choked on the last few words. She never wanted any creature to suffer. Ever. It was against her nature as a decent person, but even more so as a healer. As a small child, she would always try to heal her sister’s ailments and broken bones. She reached out and touched his knee. “It hurts here, doesn’t it?”

“That’s where it started. I thought maybe it was arthritis or something.” He chuckled. “Like you, I pushed through the pain for years.”

“How many?”

“I can’t even remember anymore.”

She knelt before him and rubbed her palms together. “Wow. I wasn’t going for more dust, but I’ll work with it,” she whispered. “Where else?”

He curled his fingers around her wrists. “Don’t.”

“Why not?”

“I can feel you accepting me. Taking a stand by me. You do that and mating will begin. The last thing I want to do is break your heart by having you watch me die.” He closed his eyes for a few seconds before blinking them open. “I wanted to be healed before I came to you. To be whole so that we could go through the process naturally. But I need your father’s help.”

Her heart felt as though it was lifting right out of her chest.

He was right. Her soul wanted to connect even if her mind wasn’t ready.

“My dad’s at home. Let’s go talk to him.” She took a step back, focusing her energy on her core and pulling her dust to her center. Reluctantly, the particles shifted in the air and floated into her body. “If he doesn’t have the answers, he’ll know how to find them.”