Chapter 2 - Emily
My heart’s pounding escalates even when I’m finally behind closed doors, in the sanctuary of my own home, far away from the alpha. I should be able to breathe again, but every part of me is trembling, lips quivering, tongue still laced with the potion I drank tonight.
I can’t believe I had the guts to do what I’ve always wanted to: slap Sean for his crimes against me. But revenge is supposed to be sweet, not as frightening as it felt just now.
That was a close call!
Maybe it’s because the slap was a way to get out when I almost got caught trying to unlock my magical powers—powers that I’m trying to keep secret from the squad until I have some semblance of control over them.
If slapping Sean was only a way to escape his probing, then I still owe him for what he did to me in the past.
“Maybe I am crazy, but I think you did something with your little potion to make me feel crazy about you!”
“Hah!” I let out scornfully, realizing I’d only run home because I was half-expecting Sean to chase me after that. What had gotten into him, speaking like that to me? Maybe he was drunk, or high on wolfsbane.
Were they celebrating at today’s meeting?
I shake my head at the thought, knowing that the others wouldn’t be that careless. But Sean’s behavior tonight was out of the ordinary, and I am too exhausted by the ritual to try and dissect his actions.
Finally, I exhale a long, drawn-out breath behind my front door, able to move my trembling fingers enough to lock the door and kick off my shoes before padding toward the kitchen.
At least he didn’t follow me, and I can now calm my raging heart.
I grab a bottle of chilled water from the fridge before sinking onto a chair overlooking my kitchen window, where I can watch the full moon in the night sky.
Pressing the cool bottle to my forehead, I close my eyes for a moment to say a last prayer to the Moon Goddess to fulfill the ritual I’d worked hard to complete.
I’ve been praying to Her all evening, and every day since I stumbled on that ritual and recipe in Donna’s grandmother’s book.
Praying that it works, because I had to wait three weeks for a rare plant—hibiscus waimeae—to be delivered from Hawaii, then another two weeks for it to steep in honey to be considered consumable.
I patiently waited for the next full moon to arise before going through with the ritual, which was supposed to be simple. “Drink the potion, and the magic will be unlocked.”
All I’ve had for weeks is this nagging, tingling sensation in my fingers and palms. It stopped this morning, and I nearly lost my mind thinking that I’d lost my connection to some mystic powers.
But then I drank the potion and felt it again when—
No.
It’s not because Sean burst in and grabbed my wrist.
It’s just the effects of the potion working its magic on me. I just need to give it time. Once I’m sure that I have real magic in me, I’ll tell the others, and I’ll be an actual help to them.
Sighing, I take a sip of my water, a bout of loneliness creeping into my heart. I haven’t felt that way in a long time, and perhaps it’s because I’ve been able to distract myself all this time that I haven’t faced what I’ve always felt inside—a feeling that can’t be buried.
Loneliness shouldn’t make me feel sad when I’ve faced it most of my life. Long before I was old enough to receive a wolf, I lost both my parents and spent the last three years of high school just trudging along.
I only had one person who really cared about me, someone I could rely on, someone I considered a confidante.
Luna Evelyn Lowell.
I should be grateful for the time I did have with her, because it’s almost rare to meet a luna with so much compassion and empathy that it was easy to forget she was technically royalty in Silverfang.
But it’s times like these when I miss her, because I would have been able to speak to her about my suspicions, knowing that she would have kept my secret until I was ready to reveal it to my friends.
She probably would have encouraged me to figure out my powers and even reminded me not to be so insecure because I’ve always been drawn to healing with plants.
I could trust her with my life, as she trusted me with hers.
Sniffing and fighting back the tears, I rub the back of my hand across my nose, sadness quickly turning to anger when I thought about the man who barged in on me when I was performing the ritual.
I could trust his mother with my life, but I can never trust him.
Not after what he did to hurt me in the past. Perhaps that’s why I need to have concrete proof of my magical gifts before approaching our friends.
I can’t be seen as pathetic by the only man who has ever made me feel worthless.
Grunting irritably, I get to my feet and drag them to my room, wondering if this fatigue is connected to the ritual and the potion I drank. Maybe.
But by the time I climb into bed, I can’t fall asleep, again suspecting that this restlessness is a result of the potion. While my eyes stay fixed to the ceiling, the whiteboard directly above my head somehow turns into a blank canvas on which a memory plays out.
***
Five Years Ago
Tears fall onto my lap, and I watch them as they match the gentle rainfall pattering on the cobblestones outside the pack hall. I stifle the ruthless sob lodged in my throat, forcing myself to stay quiet while the funeral proceeds.
“…Your Luna may be gone, but she will never be f-forgotten.” Alpha Joseph Lowell chokes on the last word, cracking through the facade of being in control of his emotions during this time.
I look up to find him searching the benches, confusion and worry etched in his graying brows and making the wrinkles around his eyes more prominent. The alpha looks like he’s lived a thousand lives in the span of a year, and it all came crashing down on him two nights ago, when he lost his mate.
Once half the picture of a perfect couple, Alpha Joseph stands on the stage, addressing his pack while embodying the example of what most werewolves fear.
Losing one’s mate.
The aftermath is like a toxic shock that keeps him frozen in a cloak of gloom, passing that heaviness through his speech despite his best efforts to show a strong front.
He has to, because he’s the alpha. He’ll only break down in the confines of his home, now that Luna Evelyn’s body has been laid to rest.
But there’s still a certain unease in his wandering eyes, and I wipe away my tears to follow his gaze.
That’s when I realize why he seems so confused.
The bench in front, where Sean is supposed to be seated. is empty.
I gulp hard and swallow my own emotions, waiting for Alpha Joseph to finish his speech and dismiss the gathering to the back of the hall for the customary post-funeral dinner before I quietly slip off the bench and make my way toward him.
We meet at the bottom of the stairs on the side of the stage, and Alpha Joseph immediately pulls me into his arms, sighing.
The weight of his grief is evident in that one breath, drawn out and full of the emotion he’s suppressing to show up as a strong leader in front of the pack. He pulls back and cups my face, smiling wistfully at me as he wipes my tears away.
“Do you know where my son is?” he asks timidly, and I shake my head slowly.
“I’ll go look for him,” I assure Alpha Joseph, offering him a more sincere smile as I squeeze his arm gently.
“Thank you, Emily. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
“I made a promise to Luna Evelyn,” I remind Alpha Joseph, whose blue eyes turn sad at the mention of his mate. “Your pack awaits you, Alpha. You need to eat as well. I’ll make sure Sean finds you.”
Alpha Joseph nods tentatively before making his way to the dining area for dinner. I take a deep breath, metaphorically fixing my healer’s hat on my head, before going outside in search of Sean.
I find him exactly where I suspected he’d be at the base of Mount Mansfield, sitting on the bench between two maple trees.
“Sean…?” I call out, and a cloud of smoke puffs out on one side of his face in response.
“Yeah?” he asks nonchalantly, not turning his head, as if he’s ignoring my existence.
An unsettled shiver courses down my spine, but I continue forward. “Your father was looking for you. They’re having dinner in the hall now. It’ll mean a lot to him if you’re there.”
“Sure,” he says, and shrugs, taking another audible pull of his cigarette.
Marijuana, tobacco, and wolfsbane.
Great.
“You missed his speech. It was very touching,” I continue, arriving beside the bench and hesitating with my hand on the armrest.
Sean lets out another cloud of smoke between us when he turns his face toward me, barely acknowledging my presence, but at least it’s something.
“What is it to you, anyway?” he asks when the cloud of smoke dissipates and clears my view of him.
He looks even worse than his father did, his eyes hollow and sunken as if he’d cried beyond his tears, the soft blue hues lost to the gloomy claws of grief. His pupils are dilated because he’s been smoking, hair is disheveled with unruly curls all over the place.
There’s a part of me that wants to reach out and tuck a particular dark tendril back into place, but I fight my urges because I know this isn’t the time. Not when he’s like this, not while he’s grieving the loss of his mother. A week ago, maybe. But not right now.
“I care about you, Sean,” I admit, watching as he casually slinks his arm across the backrest of the metal bench, his thick, powerful thighs splaying over the seat. “I care about you and your father. I know this isn’t an easy time, and I promise to be there—”
“You don’t mean that,” Sean abruptly cuts in with a bitter scoff. “The only thing you care about is that position at the clinic my father promised you. You can quit the act now.”
My blood runs cold. “Act? You think I’m acting?” My jaw drops in disbelief as Sean turns his face back to me, one brow arched.
“Aren’t you? You can drop it now. My mother’s dead.”
My blood turns to ice, freezing me in place. “Excuse me…?”