Chapter 26 - Aurela
“You scared the shit out of me.”
“Yeah, looks like we scared the shit out of her, too,” Valerie says, gesturing to the spot Tara occupied just a moment before.
Val is in her pajamas. They all are, their hair messy like they just rolled out of bed, their faces scrubbed clean of makeup.
A breeze blows through the clearing, and we all shiver, staring at the empty spot, the half-finished lollipop in the grass.
“How did you know I was up here?” I ask.
“Felt the pull,” Phina says, not tearing her eyes from that spot. “And just…knew. Something was up. Just like that first night.”
We’d never made a plan to meet on the ridge that night, so long ago. It was like all four of us just felt the same tug, the same calling.
Exactly the same kind of pull I’ve had to resist for the past fifteen years.
“And we’ve figured a few things out,” Maeve says earnestly, her eyes darting between the four of us.
“More like Maeve figured a few things out,” Phina says, her eyes bright as she looks at our friend.
Valerie puts her hand on my back and draws me into the group, and we huddle together like a football team, voices low.
“I—I’ve been thinking a lot about Tara and that night,” Maeve says. “I can’t fully explain why, but I think we’re going to need to go to the ridge tonight.”
Valerie opens her mouth, then shuts it, and I know without asking that she was about to ask why.
Phina shifts uncomfortably, glancing at all of us. “You think that’s where Tara is going to be?” she asks.
“Yes,” Maeve says. “I think she brought us out here for a reason. Last time, it was by calling me, but it was Aurela she really wanted.”
“And now she has me,” I mutter, because I haven’t been able to stop myself from sleepwalking out to the woods.
“It would be just like her to want us out at the ridge,” Valerie mutters. “Just like that night. So dramatic.”
“I think I have an idea of how we can stop her,” Maeve says. “But I want to check with you all to see if what I’m thinking is right.”
“What are you thinking?” I ask, heart thudding.
But instead of answering that question, Maeve just says quietly, “Felix thinks Tara is feral.”
“So does Xeran,” Phina says.
Valerie nods along, as though she and Lachlan have been thinking the same thing.
“But, does that seem right to you guys?” Maeve asks.
“No,” I say instantly, and when they all look at me, I blush. Tara was my best friend back then; that was pretty clear. The two of us were always closer to one another than to the rest of the group. It means I know her better than they do.
“Why?” Maeve pushes, her bright eyes focused on mine, like she’s a teacher just waiting for me to come up with the right answer.
“I…” I close my eyes, letting out a breath, bringing Tara to mind.
Imagining those first few days with her at school.
Then, noticing Soren in the hallway, passing him, seeing his face for what felt like the first time.
My entire body lighting up with a sort of recognition I haven’t experienced since.
Then, immediately after that, I got my first heat and was sent home by the nurse. My mother had doted on me, caring for me, running me baths, and doing her best to explain what happened during the heat. What it meant for the body, and how to mitigate some of those effects.
“Someday,” she’d said, sitting at the side of the tub, handing me a glass of ice water, “you’ll find an alpha, and a lot of this will be much easier to manage.”
I had no idea what she was talking about, what that meant, but I knew right then and there that Soren was the alpha my body wanted. I was drawn to him, seeing him in the hallway, but every time we passed one another, it was like he looked right through me.
Aurela from high school was small. Timid. Very not cool.
And when my mother insisted I join the Foods Club and take sewing classes, in an attempt to prepare myself to be the best possible partner to an alpha, I went along with it.
I walked into the first Foods Club meeting, saw Soren, and promptly started having a panic attack. When I escaped into the hallway, trying to breathe, convincing myself that there was no way in hell I could go back into that classroom and face him, Tara appeared.
“Hey,” she said, kicking off the wall and emerging from a little alcove.
She was cool—impossibly so. With low-rise jeans, combat boots, real boobs, and a tight, long-sleeved shirt that showed off her hips and chest, I was immediately cowed.
“Hey,” I answered, practically melting back into the wall, my head lowering like she was an alpha, even though she wasn’t. “Sorry, I didn’t, I mean I wasn’t—”
Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, I’d never really ascertained what she was, how she fell into the pack hierarchy. Maybe beta seemed to fit best, because she was neither alpha nor omega, but I’d never asked her. And for some reason, her scent hadn’t offered many clues about it.
“What are you apologizing for?” she asked, tilting her head. “Just existing? That’s pretty lame, right?”
“Yeah,” I said meekly. All I’d heard was that I was lame, and I knew that to be true.
It was like whatever Lachlan got from being a Cambias flipped around when it came to me—while he was bold and charismatic and sure of himself, I was mild, small.
I could walk through the hallway and be sure not a single person was actually seeing me.
I didn’t have any friends, and not for lack of trying. Lots of girls were interested in being my friend. That is, until they actually got to know me, and decided even trips to my huge house weren’t enough for the sacrifice of passing time with me.
“Hey,” Tara said, dipping her head down to look at me, and I realized she must have been a super senior or something—I’d never seen her before. And there was no way she was younger than me. “You wield, right?”
“Shh!”
It came out of my mouth so fast that I didn’t have time to take it back, and the shocked look on her face made me feel sure she wasn’t going to talk to me again, just like everyone else.
“I mean, I’m sorry—”
“Stop apologizing,” she laughed, tilting her head and staring down at me with interest. “But, you want a bit of advice? Use that shit, kid. Gods gave you magic for a reason, didn’t they?”
“Uh…” I’d never thought about it that way. And, more likely, my mother would describe my magic as the curse of some cryptid. An ailment I’d have to fight against my entire life.
And fight, I did. When I didn’t use it, the magic would bubble under my skin, insistent, boiling, demanding to be given space. And the more I pushed against it, the worse it got, until I let myself cast just a bit with my door locked in the middle of the night, hands shaking, breathing shallow.
Tara shrugged, gave me another laugh, then turned on her heel to walk away. “Take the advice or don’t. Your decision, Aury.”
Only later did I realize I’d never told her my name.
Now, I find Maeve’s eyes again, emotion clogging my throat and making it hard for me to breathe, to talk. “I don’t know how to explain it. Ferals are, like, incompatible with pack life, right? But she’s not like that. She’s so…”
“Charismatic,” Valerie supplies.
I nod and point at her. “Yeah, that. That was like her whole thing. She was so cool.”
“Then why didn’t she have friends other than us?” Phina presses, eyes darting to Maeve. “And why was she so hell-bent on getting us to practice with magic?”
“Because she wielded, too,” I say, feeling a note of defensiveness creeping into my tone, and not knowing how to get rid of it. “She was an early opposer to the magic laws.”
“Or maybe she was just hungry for destruction,” Maeve says quietly, as though she knows how hard this is for me. Like she can see how much I still care about Tara, despite everything.
And I don’t know why. She’s objectively a bad person. Evil, even. She’s hurt me. Her fires nearly killed my brother.
Plus, she’s been toying with me for a long time. Calling to me, to the point I wake up in the woods disoriented and scared, not in control of my own body.
“Here’s the thing,” Maeve says quietly. “I always thought Tara wasn’t in the yearbook because she was just…like that.”
“A rebel,” Valerie agrees, rolling her eyes.
“But I checked the school records,” Maeve says, voice low. “And there is not a single record of her there. None at all.”
My heart moves into my throat. “What are you saying? Are you saying she wasn’t a student there?”
Maeve’s gaze stays serious, stony, her lips pressing together. “I didn’t just check with the school—I looked into some other databases. Voter registration, social security—”
“How did you get access to that?” Phina asks, eyes wide, but Maeve waves her off.
“I have some friends back in LA with powerful connections,” Maeve grins. “It’s not that important. What is important is that Tara Bredon doesn’t show up in a single database. Not only that, but I reached out to the International Pack Alliance.”
“And?” Phina pushes, and a part of me wishes she wouldn’t, because my brain is already racing ahead, seeing where all this is going.
“And I’m not saying Tara wasn’t just not a student,” Maeve whispers, a cool wind blowing through the clearing and ruffling her curls. “I’m saying she’s not a shifter at all.”