Jules hastily places a finger over my lips as shuffling echoes from the distance.
“Do you smell that?” he hisses at Shade.
Shade sniffs the air. “It’s the Shadow Thornwall pack’s scent. There’s a lot of them, too.”
“Why would they be this close to our field?” Jules murmurs, lowering his finger from my lips. “They should know better than to cross into our boundaries without permission.”
He trades a look with Shade. Shade nods his head once, then lets out a whistle as he strides toward the entrance of the alleyway. The werewolves lining the alley snap into motion, stepping closer to Jules, Legend, and I, creating a makeshift human wall around us.
I inch closer to Legend as the feeling of being trapped creeps up inside me.
“They’re going to be able to smell her,” Legend tells Jules, absentmindedly trailing his fingers up and down my back. “Her scent’s getting stronger by the second.”
I discreetly take a whiff of my armpits, curious what my scent smells like. Jules said my scent is like stars and moon dust and violets, but all I can smell is my cotton candy perfume and cat.
Stupid shifter cat.
Legend leans in toward me and whispers, “Did you just smell yourself?”
I shrug. “I was just curious what I smelt like. But all I can smell is my perfume and cat.”
“You’ll be able to smell yourself eventually.” Jules moves closer to me until only a whisper of space is left between us. “When your scent gets stronger, and when you start becoming more in tune with your paranormal bloodline.” He gives a short pause. “We need to blend out your scent for now, before the other pack gets here.” He ducks his head so his lips are near my ear. “Remember what we talked about at Philip’s? The last thing we want is for any of the other packs to know you’re alive before you get your memories back.”
I bob my head up and down, understanding. “Okay. How do I blend out my scent?”
He moves back, scrubbing his hand across his jawline. “I need you to climb onto my back.”
I instinctively step back. “What kind of plan is that?”
“My scent will blend out yours. Plus, with my guards being around us and it being dark, we should be able to keep you pretty well hidden.” He crouches down to make it easy for me. What he doesn’t understand is none of this is easy for me.
Sure, I didn’t freak out while I was on his lap in the club. I maybe even felt a bit safe. But being surrounded by werewolves like this …
“I don’t think I can do it,” I whisper, backing away from him.
“Lake.” His tone is so calm, so patient. “I’m not going to hurt you. No one here is going to hurt you. And I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do, but I need you to be brave right now and trust me, okay? I can’t protect you if you don’t.” He reaches out and captures my hand, his touch bringing me a drop of comfort. How that’s possible is beyond me.
I muster up what little courage I have, swing around him, and climb onto his back, looping my arms around his neck and hitching my legs around his waist. Once I’m secured in place, he straightens his legs, while I hold on for dear life, praying I don’t fall.
“Now, we’re just going to walk out of the alley and head to the field where we’ll shift and get you home, okay?” He slips his arms under my legs to hold my weight up. “I didn’t want everyone to shift by you because I didn’t want to scare the shit out of you, but we might have to now. You can close your eyes when we do it. It’ll probably be less alarming.”
I nod, clinging to him as he steps toward the entrance of the alleyway, moving in sync with his guards. I feel like I’m squished in the center of a marching band, in the middle of a parade.
The wolves’ boots stomp against the ground, one after another, and I flinch against the noise.
“It’s going to be okay,” Jules whispers over his shoulder. “We’re almost there.”
I lift my head to peek through the wall of guards around me. Between them and the darkness, I can’t see a damn thing, so I end up burying my face into Jules’ neck and closing my eyes, a lame attempt to block out reality.
A barely audible moan escapes Jules’ as he pulls me closer against his back. The scent of moonlight and violets kisses my nostrils, and I press my face against the back of his head and sniff his hair.
“Lake,” Jules groans quietly. “You’re being very distracting right now. And while I’d more than love the distraction any other time, right now, I need to focus on getting you to safety.”
“Sorry.” Warmth floods my cheeks as I move my face away from his hair. “I don’t know why I did that.”
He gently squeezes my thigh. “It’s your wolf instincts kicking in.”
I rest my cheek against the back of his head. Why am I so comfortable with him? “So, I’m going to start smelling everyone now?”
He flexes his fingers on my legs. “I hope not.”
“Me, either. It’d be super weird.”
He starts to chuckle, but then a clusterfuck of vibrating growls and echoing howls cut him off.
My gaze snaps up. “What the hell was—”
An animal whimpers from nearby, echoed by a herd of roars.
Jules and the guards take off in a mad sprint. The power of their legs carries us faster than I ever thought possible, the moon and starlit sky nothing but violet and silver ribbons.
The growling noises chase after us for a few minutes, but eventually fade away. But Jules and his guards don’t slow down until we arrive at the edge of a desolate field trimmed with trees and bushes. Then Jules carefully lowers my feet to the ground and places a hand on the small of my back, urging me toward Legend.
“Get in the sleigh with him and close your eyes, okay?”
“What sleigh …?” My question gets lost as a snowy white sleigh embellished with flowery swirls of silver materializes out of nowhere.
“Don’t touch the silver on it, okay?” Jules says quickly, yanking his shirt over his head. “It’s real silver. And if something happens, get under the seat. With the silver all over it, it’ll be hard for a werewolf to get to you.”
I nod, trying not to stare at his chest, but the pale moonlight gives me a brief glimpse of the lean muscles carving his abs. Luckily, before I start drooling like a dog, Legend snatches my hand and yanks me out of my gawking lust daze. Then we rush to the sleigh.
He helps me steer around the silver on the edges, and I manage to plop my ass into the seat without getting burned. Then Legend hops in beside me and grabs my hand. I squeeze my eyes shut just as a loud series of cracks, like bones snapping, cut through the air. Howls and yaps follow.
My stomach churns. “I think I’m going to be sick.” I smash my lips together, puke burning at the back of my throat.
“Shh …” Legend places a hand over my ear and angles my head against his shoulder.
I focus on breathing. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out—
The sleigh jerks forward, and my eyelids pop open. Four massive wolves are pulling the sleigh by leather straps. The two in front are moonlight white, and the other two are a dusky black. At least ten other wolves run beside the sleigh, their fur ranging from white to black to golden brown. I’ve never actually seen a werewolf in shifted form before, but I imagined them to be beast-like creatures with scraggly fur, red demon eyes, and sharp fangs. These look the exact opposite of what I saw in my head, with smooth fur; pale, glowing eyes; and teeth like a dog. A very large dog.
I wonder which one’s Jules?
I shove the thought from my head. That shouldn’t matter to you, Lake. You need to keep your guard up.
“They’re not as scary as I thought,” I whisper to Legend.
He drapes his arm around my shoulders and props a foot onto his knee. “No, they’re not. I’m way scarier.”
“Yes, you are.” I nod in agreement, recalling the time he protected me when he was in full vampire form. “When are we going to g
et to those weird whispering dream daisies things—”
Luminous light cascades across the field as indigo flowers sprout from the ground. As the petals burst open, splashes of glitter shower the air.
“Pretty …” I slump back in the seat as the glitter rains down on me and douses me with sleepiness. Hardly any lands on Legend, though, as if all the glitter is drawn to me.
The idea of falling asleep with so many wolves around sends my heart into a fitful panic. I try to fight past the exhaustion, but my head flops onto Legend’s shoulder as tiredness overpowers me.
Right before my eyelids slip shut, a wolf barrels past the sleigh. Its fur is unlike the other wolves—black with hints of deep purple and blue, like raven feathers; its eyes like the stars.
“Jules …” His name is the last word that passes my lips before exhaustion wins.
Chapter 13
I don’t know if I dream that night, or if nightmares haunt my sleep. The poison puts me too far under for me to remember anything. So when I open my eyes, for once I’m grateful for magic.
I haven’t slept like that since the day before the attack, perhaps even before then. I wonder if I slept like this before I forgot all about my werewolf life.
As exhaustion evaporates from my body, I sit up and stretch my arms above my head, practically purring over how great I feel. That is, until I note I’m sitting in an unfamiliar four-post ivory bed decorated in sheer violet curtains with a comforter and pillows to match.
“How the heck did I get from the sleigh to here?” I mumble, searching the room for signs of familiarity.
Pale purple walls, black hardwood floors, and a set of french doors where sunlight trickles in through the glass. None of this strikes any sort of recollection, which means I probably wasn’t awake when I was brought here.
Uneasiness twists in my stomach at the idea of someone carrying me to the bed while I was passed out.
Throwing the blankets off me, I sigh in relief. I’m still wearing the same skirt, shirt, and knee-high socks as I was last night. The only thing missing is my shoes. But I can handle someone taking those off while I sleep.
Now I just need to figure out where I am.
I climb out of bed, doing a bit more stretching, then pad over to the shut door. I start to reach for the doorknob, then decide to head for the french doors instead.
Flipping down the lever handle, I open the door and step out onto a balcony.
A gentle breeze gusts through my hair as I approach the railing and take in the scene. Acres of blooming trees and flowers laced with the same thorny vines that were at the entrance of the portal stretch for as far as my eye can see. Towering mountains sit in the horizon, and dirt roads zigzag across the land with hundreds of quaint houses and shops. The air hums with the chatter of people—werewolves—the air sweltering with the aroma of moonlight. Above me, the sky is painted a glistening ocean blue, the sun a violet orb shining halos of light across the city.
Wow. Jules was right; sunrise is even prettier than the night sky.
“Be careful, princess. We don’t want you falling over the balcony your first day here,” a teasing voice filters up from below me.
I peek over the railing and find Shade standing at the bottom of a hill beneath the balcony, leaning casually against a lamppost with his arms crossed. He’s dressed in a black T-shirt, matching cargo pants, and boots. Leather straps wind around his wrists, and fingerless gloves cover his hands.
“You look like you’re about to go into battle,” I remark, resting my arms on the railing.
He pushes away from the lamppost, his arms falling to his sides. “Nope. Just dressed for my job.”
“Which is?”
He winks. “Protecting you.”
“From what?”
His grin is all sorts of mischievous. “From the big bad wolves.”
“Hardee har har.” But my insides quiver, reminding me that big bad wolves do exist. “So, what? You’re just going to stand there all day?”
He nonchalantly shrugs. “And go wherever you go.”
“Does that include when I go to the bathroom?” I tease wickedly. “Or when I take a shower?”
A wicked grin starts to rise on his lips, but then his gaze darts over my shoulder and he turns around, whistling to himself.
A heartbeat of a moment later, the fragrance of moonlight and violet kisses my nostrils. I twist around, right as Jules steps onto the balcony.
I don’t know how, but he looks even more gorgeous in the sunlight, dressed in black jeans and a long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves shoved up. His dark hair hangs in his eyes that mirror the sky, the silver rings on his fingers glint in the light, and his tattooed arms flex as he reaches back to massage his neck.
“I knocked on the door, but you didn’t answer.” His gaze scrolls up and down my body before residing on my eyes. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay and that you were awake.” He seems more nervous than he was last night, less sure of himself.
“I woke up, like, ten minutes ago. I wasn’t really sure where I was supposed to go or what I was supposed to do.” I lift my shoulders, shrugging. “I’m not even sure where I am or how I got here.”
“You’re at my house.” He scratches his arms, drawing my attention to the rows of jagged scars elevating from his forearm. Scars that resemble mine. “I carried you here last night. I know that’s probably what you don’t want to hear, but I tried to wake you up. You were pretty out of it.” He tugs his sleeves down, concealing the scars. “You were whimpering a little bit in your sleep.” He leaves the silent question hanging out there.
“I do that sometimes.” I look away, fidgeting with the leather bands on my wrists.
“Do you have nightmares?” he asks so gently, so cautiously I almost tell him yes.
Almost, but not quite.
I give a half-shrug. “I’m not sure. I barely remember the things I dream about.” I peek at him from the corner of my eye and frown at the faint smile tugging at his lips.
“Except for when you kissed me, right?” he teases.
I roll my eyes. “That happened one time.”
His eyes glint. “And yet, you remember the one time.”
“Only because it was so frightening.” I fake a shudder.
He steps toward me until the tips of his boots touch my toes. “If I’m remembering correctly, which I’m pretty sure I am, you were moaning while I kissed you.” A cocky grin tugs at his lips.
“That wasn’t a moan. It was a terrified gasp.”
“Whatever you say.” He continues to grin, completely full of himself.
“Why does it even matter? So what if I kissed you in some dream? It was just a dream. And you’re the one who keeps trying to kiss me in real life.”
He shrugs, not giving a shit, apparently.
I internally sigh in frustration. “So, what am I supposed to do now?”
His teeth pierce his lip as he curves his arm around my hip, sets a hand on the railing and slants closer to me. “You could always try to kiss me in real life.”
“I don’t mean with the kissing.” I place my palm on his chest to push him back, noting how fast his heart is racing. “I mean, what am I supposed to do now that I’m in your kingdom?”
“It’s your kingdom, too.” His gaze flits to my lips before he lets out a soft sigh. Then he pushes himself back and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “I thought maybe I could give you a tour of the kingdom today and answer the questions I know you have. I’d also like to introduce you to a few wolves, if you’re comfortable with it.”
“Your parents?” I wonder.
He flinches then shakes his head. “The king is currently visiting another pack and won’t return until next week.” His formal tone lacks emotion. “As for my mom, she’s currently on bedrest. Has been for about five years, ever since the land became poisoned.”
“The land’s poisoned?” I glimpse over my shoulder at the field. “With the vines?”
“Yeah … How did you know that?”
“Legend told me when we entered the realm that there were vines everywhere. He told me not to touch them.”
He nods. “If you do, you’ll get sick. Like my mom.”
My heart pings with agony. “Where did the vines come from? Legend said something about them spreading, but that they weren’t always here.”
“They weren’t.” He moves beside me and squints against the sunlight as he gazes at the land. “About eight years ago, they suddenly started growing. At first, we didn’t think too much of it and had the gardeners pull them out. But, by the next day, they’d grown back and had doubled in size. We quickly learned that the more we tried to get rid of them, the bigger they grew, so we stopped having them pulled. Figured they were harmless enough. That they were just thorns.” He rests his arms on the railing. “About three years after they appeared, the soil beneath them began to wilt and blacken. We realized too late that the thorns were poisoning the dirt. The same dirt that surrounds the lake where our kingdom gets its drinking water.”
My heart clenches in my chest. “Did … Did it poison everyone?”
He slowly shakes his head. “No, we found out quickly enough that only a handful of wolves had ingested it.”
“What happened to those wolves?”
“They got sick. A couple of them died.” He sinks into sorrowful silence. “My mom was one of the ones who got sick. And she’s remained sick for the last five years. Every year, on the same day she became infected, her health takes a small dip for the worst. It’s like clockwork every year, which has some speculating that the land is cursed by magic.” His jawline spasm. “My father doesn’t buy into that theory, though. He thinks the weeds were planted by another pack. So, instead of trying to find a witch to look into the curse theory, he spends his time pointlessly moving from pack to pack and questioning their leaders. Eventually, if we can’t figure out a way to get rid of the vines, they’ll end up taking over the land.”
“That’s… awful…” Is it Lake? Do you really like it here? A land where werewolves roam?