Chapter Two
Fate Can Suck It
LIAM O’CONNOR
My brother Sebastian shoves a bucket of fried pickle slices covered in a mystery sauce—mostly mayo, according to my wolf senses—under my nose. “Want some?”
I shake my head, swatting his poison bucket away from my face. “Fuck no.”
The sights and smells of the Ash Hollow Pickle Palooza Festival are over the top, just like the name of the ridiculous gathering. The smell of burnt greasy fair food mixes with the also-unappetizing tangy scent of pickles. I much prefer the soothing atmosphere of the woods around my cabin.
The chatter of vendors and customers create a bustling energy that pulses through the streets. Hand-sewn patterned cowhide bags, intricately beaded jewelry, and homemade candles scented with lavender and vanilla all fight for my attention.
Walking down Main Street with my brother, seeing all the families together, I feel a distinct pain in my chest. But it’s a void in my life I can’t do anything about. I trust that Fate will bring the right woman into my life at the right time. No one in my pack has ever chosen to marry outside of a magickal fated mate connection. Plenty of packs do, but ours has always been very traditional when it comes to mates. When he was alive, my father always used to talk about what it was like the first time he met my mother—how he could see the magick around Mom. How it pulled at his soul.
I want that.
Besides not having a mate yet and not being able to finally start a family of my own, my life is full. I have an amazing mother. Grown brothers who drive me crazy. I have my own home on the family land. And I help run our cattle ranch like I’ve been doing since I was about ten years old.
Bast and I pass a vendor selling Adirondack chairs and my brother pauses, pointing briefly at two strangers—two wolves—asking questions in the booth.
One of the strangers whispers under his breath, “Let’s ask about her and then we’ll get the hell out of here...” The man’s voice trails off and his gaze meets mine.
Holding his stare, I narrow my eyes and stand still. These wolves—who the hell are they? And what do they want with Joey Henson?
I make quick eye contact with Joey, the scar-faced old cowboy known to be loyal to Dave Gallagher. Joey’s white-haired sister is sitting in a rocking chair next to him crocheting.
He glances briefly to the side, letting me know he’s fine.
I nod to my brother, and we stand off from Joey’s booth a few yards, just in case the out-of-towners plan to cause trouble. We’re here to make sure nothing happens tonight that could put the alliance at risk.
Joey is part of Dave Gallagher’s pack, but he’s a decent man by reputation.
“Do you recognize them?” Bast asks me in a low tone.
I shake my head and keep Joey’s booth in my line of vision. I can’t pin it down, but my gut says these guys don’t belong in Ash Hollow. They reek of military training. “Can you hear what they’re saying to Joey?”
Bast is standing a little closer than I am with his back to the booth. He nods and leans his head to the side, concentrating harder. He parrots back important tidbits worth sharing. “Joey’s askin’ them where they’re from. Oklahoma. Trewitt pack. They’re looking for a woman that Eddie told them Joey could help them find. Joey’s bartering work on his farm for the information. His sister is talking now about a woman named Meredith being held in the Gallagher mansion. Fuck. They’re looking for Meredith Banfield. Why the hell would Meredith be at Oliver’s mansion?”
“I don’t know. But Aiden’s going to lose his shit when he hears Oliver might have her.”
My brother’s mouth flattens into a grimace. “And now Joey’s telling him how he defected from Oliver’s side and went to Dave’s. Yada yada.”
Defecting had come at a price for Joey. I didn’t know him well enough to have heard firsthand, but stories about Dave and Oliver Gallagher had a way of getting around. Oliver had been the one who gave him the scar across his face.
Nobody got away unscathed when it had to do with the Gallaghers.
“When was the last time you were at the coven’s court? Was Meredith there?” My brother scowls. “What do you think that bastard’s up to now?”
I wave away his question. “Keep listening.” I strain to hear the conversation, but there’s a family with a pack of little kids eating right behind me and their voices are too much for me to concentrate through.
“He’s giving him a map to Oliver’s place. Telling him she’s under guard twenty-four-seven.”
It didn’t make sense. Why were there Oklahoma wolves in Colorado snooping around Gallagher business looking for a witch no one outside the O’Conner pack was supposed to know existed?
I roll my neck and growl low. Our alpha and cousin, Aiden, was about to hitch himself to Oliver Gallagher’s princess of a daughter. This marriage would save the pack territory, maybe, but no one from our pack had ever met Imogen Gallagher, and all the gossip said she was a ball-busting bitch who did her father’s bidding without hesitation.
Now these two outsiders are inquiring about our very own Meredith Banfield, who, according to Joey, Oliver is holding hostage? What. The. Actual. Fuck? Why didn’t we notice her go missing?
The two cowboys walk past us. I get a quick suspicious glance from the one who noticed me earlier, but neither speaks. I turn to follow them and my brother trails without a sound. We walk a few dozen yards before I see them veer into an alley.
My brother and I lock eyes, preparing for an ambush. Then we duck into the shadows between several empty vendor booths.
Hands close around my neck, and a powerful body shoves me against a planked wall. “What the fucking hell you following us for?” He’s so close I can almost taste the burger he ate earlier. His wolf rumbles deep in his chest.
“You’re the ones who don’t belong here. Why are you in Ash Hollow?” I don’t fight against his hold. My body is lax, nonaggressive. I wait for him to relax. My brother does the same. Neither of us will cause a scene that could impede the alliance today, but that won’t stop us from finding out why there are so many strange wolves in town today who don’t belong. The air is thick with their scent. “Why are you asking about someone at Oliver Gallagher’s house?”
The stranger loosens his grip on my neck and jacket and takes a step back. “Beau, let him go,” he says to his companion. The man he called Beau releases my brother, and Sebastian moves to stand next to me.
“I’m Jace Trewitt. My brother and I are here on orders from our alpha to find someone—a witch called Meredith Banfield. We need her help to heal a child in our pack. Do you know her?”
I pause. Part of our promise of protection was not to tell anyone about the coven’s court or Meredith, the witch who created it.
My brother is silent as well. She’d had an understanding with Aiden’s father for decades, and that agreement passed to Aiden when he took over. The whole pack protects her secret. Nobody should know she and her coven live in the area, much less some wolf from Oklahoma.
“If there’s a witch here, I’m not surprised Oliver Gallagher is involved. I can’t help you, though,” I say strategically.
I steal a quick glance at my brother. He nods, agreeing with my decision to not share more information. These two are well-informed, and they’ll find her if they keep digging. But they aren’t getting anything from me unless Meredith herself okays it.
Jace’s expression is tight with frustration, but he nods. “Understood.” He turns to Beau and jerks his head toward the end of the alleyway.
My brother and I watch until they disappear into the flowing river of people walking up and down Main Street. Bast rubs his hand through the scruff on his face. “You think Oliver really has Meredith locked up in his house? The only thing that would give him leverage over her is—”
“Emma,” we both say at the same time.
Bast leads us back to Main Street. “It would explain why we haven’t seen her recently. But I don’t like these outsiders here asking questions. If they stir up trouble, Oliver will renege on this whole deal for our pack. Whatever happens, this engagement must be protected. Aiden’s orders.”
Once we’re back into the thick of the crowds, a strange sensation overcomes me.
It’s sudden. Warm. Inviting. Like a spring breeze. Or a tight hug.
“What?” Bast asks, his voice low and tight. “Did you hear something?”
“No. There’s something. I feel someone—” But no one is touching me. I survey the crowds looking for the source of my piqued interest. My skin tingles and I scan the area. Whatever— or whoever—is close.
“There’s a lot of someones in town that don’t belong.”
“It’s something else, Bast.” I weave my way through laughing groups of couples and families and herds of teenagers. Bast is right on my heels.
The wave hits me again, and I look to the right. A woman in a red shirt is sitting on a bench in front of a small shop. Her head is between her legs like she’s having an anxiety attack or feeling nauseous. The air quivers around her, like heat waves from an open oven. The waves shimmer and dance and pull me closer.
Bast grabs my elbow, halting me midstride. “What are you doing?”
“Go to the steak house and wait across the street. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Call me if you see those two guys again. And be careful. There are a lot of people in this town who shouldn’t be.”
He gives me a curt nod. “I know. Someone’s following us. I can feel it, but any time I stop and look...” He shrugs. “There’s nothing.”
“I know. I feel it too. Like there’s so much magick in the air I can taste it. Meet you at the restaurant.”
He grunts and continues down the road without me.
I turn back to the woman. Everything inside me warms when I look at her...like she—
And then I understand.
She’s my mate.
This is it. This is what my dad described, but I still never imagined how visceral it would be. How out of control I would feel. I don’t care about anything else except getting to her. Touching her. Claiming her. She’s what I’ve been missing.
I walk closer.
And closer.
Electric currents spark across my skin. When I reach her, she looks up and my heart stops. Her eyes are the color of the ocean, and I drown in them.
“Are you okay?” I ask softly, keeping my tone gentle. Something tells me if I startle her, she’ll run.
She doesn’t answer, but I see fear in her eyes. And something else too, something that makes me want to protect her from all the pain and evil in her world. I squat in front of her and put a hand on the bench to steady myself.
She reaches toward my face but doesn’t touch me. Her fingers come so close I feel the heat from her skin. I lean my head a fraction of an inch, touching my cheek to her fingertips, and she jolts, yanking her hand back.
“No. No. No.” Her lower lip quivers.
My wolf stirs in my chest. Mine. She’s mine. She’s my mate. This magick I see around her—the iridescence in the air. I’ve found her.
“I’m Liam,” I say.
Our eyes lock. A current of understanding passes between us, unspoken yet profound, as if pages of our shared pasts are suddenly laid bare in that single moment. She fills an empty space in my soul in a way I’d only dreamed would be possible. A warmth unfurls deep within me, a mixture of elation and awe. And as my heart swells with a joy I’ve never known before... I’ve finally found her.
Tears run down her cheeks.
Every single part of me wants to hold her close and comfort her. She whispers no under her breath, so I don’t move. I don’t pull her into my arms. I stare into the bottomless depths of her eyes, wishing I knew what to do to help her.
“You can’t be real. Not today.” Her voice wobbles, low and breathy. “You have to go.”
My wolf growls deep in my chest. “You’re mine. Don’t you feel it? See it?”
Her eyes flash, and her sad expression morphs to anger. “It doesn’t matter what I feel. I don’t get a choice.”
“Of course you do.” Confusion and worry tie a knot in my stomach. Why is she rejecting us ?
She rises from the bench and puts both her hands on my chest and pushes.
I don’t have to move, but I do.
“I can’t believe...today of all days...” She leans into me and sobs, and I lose all conscious thought for a moment.
She fits.
Like a fucking glove.
It’s better than I imagined. Every part of my body wants to be touching her. Covering her. Holding her. Keeping her.
“Tell me your name,” I whisper into her hair.
“Gen.” She backs away, carefully wipes the tears from her eyes without smudging her mascara, and then looks me square in the face. The eye contact is intense. “You have to forget you ever saw me. Do you understand?”
I sputter a protest. “N-no.” Is she joking?
“Never mention this. You can’t. I can’t. I’m sorry.” And then she ducks to the side and rushes away.
Fuck. She’s not joking.
Pain sears through my chest, leaving me with a metallic taste in my mouth. I unclench my teeth from where I bit down on my tongue. Ignoring a fated bond isn’t just a rejection—it’s a slow, agonizing torture for both souls involved. She can’t ignore this. We’re meant to be together. We’re fated. I’m not letting her throw away this chance.
She weaves through the crowd, running from me. I maintain my distance but keep her beautiful blonde hair in sight, following her. Gorgeous and mine, she believes there’s a problem...but I’ll fix whatever it is. Letting her go isn’t an option.
She stops on the porch of Trailhouse, the steak house where Aiden’s meeting with Oliver Gallagher and family is about to take place. After brushing off her shirt and wiping her palms on her jeans, she straightens, squares her shoulders, and struts inside, oozing confidence like she’s the Queen of fucking Sheba.
A few feet away, my brother calls out, “Liam, over here.”
I take one more look at the door to the steak house and then stalk over to join my brother. We’re not allowed to enter the restaurant. Not tonight.
But she can’t stay in there forever.