Chapter 2 Carina
Two
CARINA
Jasper
Your mom’s looking for you. She’s annoying. Get her to stop. Seriously, where the hell are you?
The car is set to cruise at the maximum speed the road allows for, and I steady it with my knee while swiping my phone awake to type my response.
Me
She’s not only my mom. She’s your aunt. You’re good at lying to her too.
Jasper
She’s also my HP and will kick my ass from here to Vancouver if she figures out I’m keeping your location from her. Give me something to tell her.
Me
Be creative. good luck!
Planning to ignore whatever else my cousin bothers me with, I go to put my phone back in the console, but then the screen flashes with his next text and it’s too on the mark to ignore.
Jasper
Don’t tell me you’re checking out the pack again.
Me
Ok, I won’t tell you.
Jasper
One day, she’ll catch you and nothing in existence will save your ass. Then I’ll laugh and say I told you so.
Or eventually the wolves will catch you and eat you. That will be your punishment.
Me
Have you SEEN the alpha’s son??? Please, I’d BEG him to eat me. Wait, no—you haven’t seen him because you suck and never come with me!
Jasper
Ew. I’ll never be able to unread that, thanks. Excuse me while I go brew myself a potion to wipe my memory.
Also, I never come with you because I value my life and my HP’s rules.
Me
Suck up.
In truth, I too value Mom’s rules, both as my mother and my High Priestess.
But sneaking away for these mini excursions from time to time is my way of getting away from her endless nagging—I mean, training.
Sometime in the next few years, I’m set to take over the coven and Mom doesn’t let a day pass where she doesn’t remind me.
My only reprieve was when she brought Harlow home, and for those few days, the focus of her attention blissfully shifted.
The road curves and dips as the turn-off approaches. This main road will branch off into a few, and one of those will come to a vast stretch of land with a particular pond which doubles as my destination.
Eyeing the time on my phone, I find there’s only a few more hours until my absence will be noticed.
Although, based on Jasper’s texts, Mom’s already looking.
I give her an hour before she grows impatient and starts contacting me herself because she already mentioned last night about having me help reinforce the town’s barrier before tonight’s annual meeting with the nearby shifters, in case one slips by.
They never do, but she’s Mom and neurotic.
Today’s what the coven calls Treaty Day. Or what I like to call, The Day Mom is the Most Stressed and Therefore Insufferable. It’s my favourite time of the year—thought with the heaviest form of sarcasm because its other nickname is The Day I Lose My Motherfucking Mind and Want to Run Away.
So, instead of facing her, I’m doing what any obedient daughter who’s spent so much of the past few years training in the art of perfectionism should do. I’m breaking all her rules by driving down the mountain and into territory that’d get me killed for stepping foot in it.
Mom’s rules are endless. Not only her coven-wide ones, but the ones specific to me. There’s too many. So many, they make my head spin.
Number one: stay away from the pack.
Or maybe it’s further down the list and number one is to follow all her other rules. At this point, it’s impossible to keep track.
Today is extra special, for Mom at least, because it’ll be my first ever Treaty Day.
Something that’s an absolute must for any future High Priestess, as long as the agreement with the Coldcrest Pack remains.
Underage witches are not allowed at the meeting in order to guarantee their safety, which means some of the adults remain behind.
Wanting to avoid these things as long as possible, I’ve always volunteered to sit out, but this year, Mom’s caught on and isn’t letting me skip, since she’s expecting me to eventually lead them.
Joy. Another lesson on being a High Priestess.
She wants me to be as excited as she is, but I’m not. Being a leader might be in my blood, but the role holds no intrigue for me. I’m happy to do…well, I’m not sure what I want to do in life.
Not that it really matters either.
The only part that’s exciting is being able to see them. The shifter pack, but especially him—also the reason I’m sneaking around on forbidden territory. I’ve only ever seen him from afar, hidden in the trees while he sits by the pond.
I park my car between a few trees—hidden in case he comes by this area and realizes he isn’t alone.
He never has before and doubt he ever will.
I slide the key fob into the pocket of my oversized hoodie and slip from the car, walking the two dozen feet towards the pond he visits every second Wednesday.
It’s sad I’ve stalked him enough to know this part of his schedule, but it’s become an addiction impossible to stop—for some reason I’ve yet to identify.
He may technically be my mortal enemy and the reason the coven has to give up something each year, but I can’t help myself.
Even knowing wolves have tempers and if he spotted me, I’d be fucked with a capital F, I continue to come.
Regardless of those reasons, curiosity lingers like an incurable infection.
There’s something about him. Something that compels me down here every other week.
Something that makes me want to know everything about him.
He’s the forbidden crush I’ll never meet, and Mom will never learn about because I’ll die before she does.
I remain crouched behind a bush in my usual spot and wait. As his usual time approaches, I cast a concealment charm around me with a wave of my hand that makes me invisible to the eye and masks my scent from his enhanced senses.
I might be stupid enough to make these trips, but not enough to risk being found out.
Within minutes, the air grows thicker, tenser—electric—as he arrives.
Instead of the black wolf he’s typically transformed into before shifting to human, he strides into the clearing in his mortal form.
He’s shouting—more like growling, despite the lack of snout and ears—making nature cringe in discomfort.
“Motherfucking—fuck! Fucking, fuck, how the fu—?”
He’s never angry. In fact, I’ve never heard him speak, but his timbre is exactly like it’s been in my head, when visions of him linger late at night.
Instead of bolting from the tense and probably dangerous wolf, I find myself leaning deeper into the bush.
He stops by the pond and stares down into the flat water as one hand comes up to his dark hair and tugs.
His body is taut with rage, which comes off him in waves that make it all the way back here.
With his position, his shirt rides up a couple inches.
Considering he usually arrives as an animal, his chest and back isn’t anything new to me, yet being covered makes the view even more tempting.
Suddenly, he freezes, then turns my way. His eyes zero in on the exact spot I’m crouched in as his arms slowly lower back to his side.
“The fuck?” I accidentally breathe aloud. He can’t see me; magick prevents it. I glance over my shoulder, praying to Hecate something else caught his attention—especially when he takes a step in this direction.
But his gaze isn’t over my shoulder. It’s on me.
Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. I have to get out of here now.
It should be impossible for him to catch sight, sound, or scent of my presence, but whatever the reason behind his approach, sticking around to figure it out isn’t an option.
As I rotate to stand, my foot catches on a raised tree root—because of course it would—that face plants me into the ground and on my stomach.
Sticks dig into my palms, but I ignore the discomfort and jam my shoes into the dirt to finish scrambling away.
However, when the shifter enters the treeline, a mere shadowy figure appearing over the bushes, I stop moving and cast the spell again and roll over until I’m seated on my ass.
“I won’t hurt you, whoever you are.”
Only because he’s assuming I’m human, but once he learns who and what I am, that statement will become a lie.
Being on their territory could be viewed as an attack, giving them the option to retaliate.
If he doesn’t kill me first, then Mom will when she learns why our coven is randomly launched into conflict.
He appears between two trees, and for extra security, I cast the spell again before he’s fully in view.
“I can smell you, witch.”
Well, fuck. The spell isn’t working if he caught my scent. And he knows what I am.
Hecate, Blessed Be. Can’t wait to see you soon when he slaughters me. Give me a hint on how my untimely demise will come.
Suddenly, he steps around the nearest tree and bright eyes sweep the forest floor, landing on me before continuing on. The spell is still active, so relief is a long breath that unknots a few muscles. Whyever he can smell me, at least he can’t see me.
The shifter approaches, stopping within two feet. I bring my legs in closer before he steps on me and figures it out.
“I won’t hurt you.”
As if I believe that.
His gaze roves again, flashing silver every once in a while, and his nostrils flare as he passes me over more than once. This is the closest I’ve ever been to him and my heart rockets in my chest for every single reason, not only fear and anxiety.
He’s fucking hot. His hair, a dark, dark brown that looks almost black is shaggy—probably cut so infrequently.
It’s wild and unruly, exactly what I imagine him being.
His face is all sharp angles and tones; his skin tanned from the endless hours of sun exposure.
Scars litter his chin and jawline, which match the few on his chest and arms as well, suggesting a life outdoors that I’d utterly fail at.
His body is huge; muscles that’ll crush me if he doesn’t give up searching soon.
“Why do you smell so fucking good?”
Well, that sounds like he’s planning to make me his lunch. Contrary to what I said to Jasper about begging him to eat me, looks aside, being this man’s meal—that kind of meal, anyway—isn’t how I’d enjoy dying.
After another inhale, his head jerks, tipping to the side the way I imagine his wolf form would when stalking prey. Blue eyes—the colour of a pond at dusk, when the sun is no longer washing out its natural colour—land on me, but move away just as quickly, the spell continuing to hold.
How long will he cling to this determination? How long until my magick wanes and I become visible?
He’s the Alpha’s son; the second in pack hierarchy, if I were assuming. Which probably means he’ll be at the meeting tonight, and if he were to spot me now and later recognize me, there’s no telling what he’ll do with this information—and that’s if he lets me leave here alive.
Lost in thought, I miss exactly what changed when his eyes flash silver and nostrils flare again with a rumble from his chest that—oddly enough—vibrates through my stomach. Though, that may be nerves.
When his body stiffens, haunting, ethereal eyes flick right to my face.
Still, until knowing for certain he’s somehow able to see through my spell, I remain unmoving. Even my lungs stop taking in air, scared to disrupt a speck of the forest that’d give away my location.
“Well…” His tongue flicks his bottom lip. “You’re a long way from home, aren’t you, witch?”