20. Wylder
20
WYLDER
I 'm tired and cranky: two things I feel on a regular basis, but even more intensely today after the effects of the full moon last night. My wolf is more tired than I am if that’s possible. Add to the fact that we lost one of our own last night, and everything is a wash. It definitely doesn’t help that we’re not given any leeway the day after a full moon. It’s not like we want to shift into our wolves uncontrollably as the moon reaches its pinnacle in the sky. It’s a euphoric feeling, for sure, but sitting here now, with the expectation to be ready for a day's worth of classes? No thanks.
I don’t want to face anyone today after watching that poor girl last night.
Veronica.
She'd been here barely two days, and at the hands of the blood kin curse, her life was taken because of some dumb fight between a wolf and a vampire. Not her, though. No, that was all Dean and Declan. Declan has been detained and questioned, and no one is willing to offer us any further details, but that’s beside the point.
Whatever comes next for Declan, we will have to take it in our stride. There’s no excuse for killing a member of another quadrant, especially not over some girl, which is what Asher says they were yelling over. Declan should have sought refuge in his quad if he felt like he was getting out of control, but instead, he killed him—killed Dean—and, in doing so, killed Veronica too.
One of his own.
That doesn't matter right now. What we must do first is deal with the loss that has affected our pack. As if sensing my thoughts, Minnie looks my way.
“Have the arrangements been made for V?” she asks, her voice lacking the usual lilt that we’re all familiar with.
“Yeah, everything is set for midnight,” I answer, tempering the irritation I feel at the use of Veronica’s nickname.
V.
From what I hear, at Florentine’s, that's how they are addressed. A, B, C, D, all the way to Z. V is more than an initial. She'll die more than just an initial. She’ll be appropriately remembered as Veronica, but I don't correct Minnie. I know she doesn’t mean it. Besides, she seems to be feeling the loss the most.
“Fuck, we’ll sleep when we're dead, right?” Lincoln grumbles, wiping a hand down his face, and I huff in agreement. The tendrils of sleep deprivation will wreak havoc on us all day.
“It’s not good for my training. The fight is coming up and the lack of sleep doesn’t help. Especially since the full moon wiped me out last night.”
“Don't be so insensitive while there are condolences to be felt,” Asher grumbles, giving me a pointed look, and I try not to roll my eyes.
“I’m not. I’m just trying not to sink in the madness that apparently is our lives,” I retort, aware there’s a bite to my words, but thankfully, no one calls me out on it.
Good.
I would have blamed it on the lack of sleep anyway.
“You’re extra grouchy today, Wylder,” Minnie says with the slightest hint of a smile at the corner of her lips, and I try my hardest not to glower at her. I can see the amusement on Lincoln’s face, but I ignore him altogether, focusing entirely on Minnie.
The two of them always blow my mind: Lincoln and Minnie, his sister. Technically, they’re twins, but they’re not each other’s blood kin because they weren’t born at the exact same time. Even though they were born on the exact same day, minutes apart, their lives aren't intertwined under the blood curse.
Thank goodness, because the thought of losing one of them tears me apart.
While one is soft, one is hard. While one is sweet, one is bitter. Together, they are the yin and yang of the word wolf while also completing each other in ways I've never seen before.
Today is going to be a rough day for her. I can tell by the way she clings to Lincoln and the way he naturally holds her in his embrace. They bicker ninety-nine percent of the time, but in the rare moments of pain between them, they come together, solidifying their love for one another.
“How do you think Tatum is doing?” she asks, lowering her voice as she glances at the guy sitting beside her as if he doesn’t have heightened wolf hearing like the rest of us. But if he hears her, he doesn’t react. Instead, he plays around with the food on his plate, deep in thought, a place he always seems to find himself.
“Not good,” Lincoln states, concern storming in his eyes as he glances at Tatum before spinning back to me. “He might need to bunk with one of us for the next few nights,” he admits, and I nod.
“We’ll take it in turns,” Asher says as Tatum's gaze lifts, and Minnie panics, desperately trying to steer the conversation in a different direction so she doesn't spook our closest friend.
“Anyway, what's this I heard about the Alpha Pack helping a witch out yesterday?” she asks, pressing her cheek into her palm as she leans against the table, eyeing each of us.
“It was nothing. Blaze was just being a dick, as always. She was new and scared. The least we could do is help,” Asher states in his usual nonchalant way, while Minnie nods in understanding, a soft smile on her lips.
If anyone is ever going to help anyone, it is her. She's too kind, too sweet, and too innocent. Or, that's what Lincoln likes to think anyway.
“It was a girl from class, right? The one with the silver hair?”
“Yeah, it was her,” Asher agrees in between stuffing food in his mouth, and my gaze darts across the room, acutely aware of where she is.
“Is someone catching feelings I need to be aware of?” Minnie asks, smirking at Asher, who scoffs.
“What? Of course not. Should we not be nice to people for the sake of it?” he pushes, and she waves him off, refusing to take on his grumbles.
“The Alpha Pack isn't nice to anyone,” she insists, a teasing smile on her lips as she elbows her brother.
“Thanks for that,” Lincoln grumbles, leaning back, feigning shock and disappointment, and she rolls her eyes.
“It's the truth. Besides, you seemed cozy enough with her last night,” she states, turning to her brother, who frowns down at her.
“With who?”
“The girl.”
Lincoln's frown darkens as he shakes his head. “Midnight? She had black hair, not silver.”
“Midnight?” I repeat, eyeing him, confused, and he shakes his head.
“You wouldn't understand it.”
Amusement churns in my gut. “Please, enlighten us,” I insist, finding it funny that he’s not aware that Midnight is the same girl we protected from Blaze yesterday.
Lincoln sighs like the conversation is irritating. “There's nothing to enlighten. She was a goddamn virgin, and I was not going there.”
Minnie looks at me, bewilderment written in her eyes, and I’m sure it reflects in mine, too.
This guy is dumb. How is he even pack alpha? Yes, her hair was black last night, and now it's silver again. However, it was clearly the same person beneath.
Polaris.
She said that was her name. I was mesmerized by how innocent she was to the world, eager to learn, and curious to understand. Flashing images consumed my thoughts all night as I saw her pressing the shot glass to her plump lips and watching the liquor pour down her throat. Her eyes were bright, her laugh soft.
It would be impossible to deny there is something about her that is enticing. There is definitely something about her that would entice Lincoln, that's for sure. But a virgin? Nothing screams a giant red stop sign like the word virgin to Lincoln.
Minnie peers at me, pointing slightly at her brother, but I shake my head.
We're not telling him.
He can figure that out for himself.
If he can't put one and one together to get two, that's not our problem. Besides, it'll be amusing to see when he realizes it.
“So, does Midnight have a name?” I ask, intrigued, and he shakes his head.
“Nope, just Midnight,” he replies, taking a bite out of his breakfast.
“Are you feeling okay?” Minnie asks, leaning back so his arm drops off her shoulders, and he stares at her in confusion.
“I’m feeling fine. Why?”
She clears her throat. “No reason.” She fails to hide her smirk as she glances across the room and then back to the table. When her eyes find mine, I know the subject has changed. “When's your next fight, Wylder?”
“Next weekend,” I answer, already feeling the tremors of anticipation and adrenaline forming in my veins.
She nods. “We will be there to cheer you on, as always,” she promises, and I grin.
“Thanks.”
“Maybe Midnight could join us too?” she asks, and I struggle to hold back the grin and laughter that threatens to burst from my lips.
Thankfully, the bell rings, cutting through the air and distracting Lincoln from the comment, but I can't deny that I like the thought of having Midnight or Polaris watch me in all of my glory.