Chapter 28 Mona #2
Kendrick nods. “I’ve suspected Desi may not be their priority any longer. At least not at the moment. Still, don’t let her out of your sight.”
“Who the hell is Desi?” Silas asks.
Kendrick continues, without answering Silas, “Let Ghost and me handle tracking down the witches. I’ll let you know when we need your assistance. For now, just keep an eye on Mona.”
Grayson and Orion nod, but Silas won’t let it go. “Why did you call her Desi?”
Kendrick falls silent. Andrea’s body goes rigid beside me. Then, Kendrick says, “Desdemona, Mona, is my daughter.”
There’s quiet for a moment. I expect an explosive reaction from the guys, like the one I feel in my chest.
My ears are ringing. Blood rushes to my head so fast I nearly fall over.
What?
What did he just say?
Mona, take a deep breath, Beep urges. I try, but I can’t.
The ground sways. Andrea’s hand on my shoulder grounds me, but I snap away from her. The look in her eyes, the betrayal—she fucking knew.
Silas erupts from where he stands. “What? Fucking, what?” His voice tears through the tension.
“Your daughter? How could you not tell us that? And don’t tell me Mona knows, I know she doesn’t.
Wait, did you two—” his head whips toward Orion and Grayson.
Orion shrinks back, guilt plastered across his face, but Grayson’s expression hardens into granite.
“Kendrick didn’t want the information out there—”
“Out there?!” Silas roars. “I’m her fucking mate! I’m your brother! How could you not tell me this?”
Their voices escalate. Meanwhile, I feel like I’m going to be sick. Kendrick? My father?
“Mona?” Andrea whispers, tugging on my sleeve. “Luna, are you okay?”
The voices downwind escalate. Silas seethes on about how I’m the daughter of the most powerful shifter, and that was why Deidre wanted me, that the information might have been helpful to him sooner. Another argument ignites, accusations thrown.
My head spins, rage building like a pressure cooker. Those men down there playing toy fucking soldiers with my life. I spin on Andrea. “Did you know?”
I don’t lower my voice. And when her eyes flick over my shoulder and widen, then meet mine, I know they heard me, too.
I hear them calling my name in the distance. The sounds of shifters running toward me.
“Did you know?” I ask again.
Andrea dips her chin.
She knew, Beep says gently, but without that bite of accusation in her tone that I’m feeling. Of all the times for Beep to defend Andrea, she chooses now?
I’m not defending her. But this is a lot, and I’m sure she had her reasons.
Ignoring Beep, I snarl, “Stay the fuck away from me,” then start walking away. Before they can get too close, before they can reach me, I turn to the five men now filling the dirt road.
And I look at Kendrick in a new light.
He looks… devastated. Quietly wrecked, like the storm has already passed through, and all that’s left in its wake is battered and broken debris.
Longing—he’d done such a good job of hiding it before—leaks out of him.
It whips around us, like a slow-building earthquake.
My knees shake until I realize I’m not the one shaking. It’s the ground.
It’s him.
His alpha explodes outward like a nuclear blast, his eyes flashing super-nova bright, before drowning in black.
Fangs rip through his gums as he snarls and convulses, muscles straining against his own skin as his wolf claws its way to the surface, desperate to break free.
He trembles with the effort of caging his beast, while my mates slowly move to stand between me and him.
My mouth snaps shut. I don’t know what to say.
Kendrick is not some floppy-haired, mild-mannered alpha with kind eyes and a diplomatic smile.
He’s the fucking king. His power is enormous, so raw and forceful, it literally shakes the earth. Shakes me.
And I’m his daughter.
I don’t know how much time passes. The seconds stretch while he wrestles his power back into its cage. The yearning and sadness radiating from him slams into me. His eyes, still glowing at the edges, lock onto mine with such helpless desperation I have to fight not to stagger backward.
While his face contorts with such naked shame, I can almost taste the metallic tang of it in the air between us, he chokes out, “Desi—”
I don’t know where the bravery comes from. But I know—just as I know Beep is my best friend, that my mates love me, and that Andrea is in pain—I know he won’t ever hurt me. So I hold up my hand and pour Beep’s strength into the words. “Do not follow me.”
“Mona—” One, or all of my mates start, but I shake my head. “I fucking mean it. Don’t. I need a minute, yeah? Or ten?” I turn and storm off, fully expecting them to ignore my wishes.
Hoping secretly that they do, so I can scream in someone’s face.
I’m both relieved and annoyed when it’s Andrea who follows.
Andrea has the decency to look uncomfortable as we stride down the dirt road at a quicker pace than on our way here. We’ve rounded the bend, and only when we’re out of their sight do I feel like I can breathe again.
“He asked me not to say anything.”
“I thought we were friends,” I grit.
“We are friends, Mona. But when Kendrick gives you an order, you obey.”
“Fuck Kendrick!” I snap.
She growls, but doesn’t defend him. At least Silas was in the dark too—I’m not alone in my ignorance. But the rest of them? I can’t believe they didn’t tell me.
Ghost must have known from the beginning. And there I was, commenting on how weird that Kendrick guy is. That he kept watching me, and how his power seemed kind of subdued. I’m such an idiot.
Andrea pipes in, “You still haven’t told Grayson and Orion about Ghost being your mate.”
“That’s seriously how you want to play this? Also, not the same thing.” Each step becomes more of a stomp. “Totally different!” I yell, throwing my arms into the air.
So many secrets. And why wouldn’t they want me to know?
Does this mean I have a mother out there somewhere? I haven’t heard anyone mention a woman in his life, though, not with how Lily is his mate.
Oh my god, Lily is his mate. That makes her my…
Okay. This is a lot. Too much, maybe. My head feels like it’s swimming. I can’t seem to get my bearings, and I feel kinda nauseous. Andrea’s eyes narrow as she watches me struggle.
“Come,” she says, when we near the heart of downtown. There’s a UTV parked with the keys hanging, and Andrea heads right for it.
“This isn’t ours,” I tell her when she climbs into the driver’s seat.
She shrugs. “It’s an unspoken rule. You leave the keys in the ignition, it’s free use.”
I still feel like we’re stealing it when I climb in.
It feels somehow hotter inside the open-air vehicle—the vinyl seat sticks to my thighs as Andrea cranks the ignition.
The UTV’s engine sputters, then roars to life, and she peels away from the meeting house, kicking up gravel that pings against the undercarriage.
She drives along the road, taking a couple of sharp turns that have me gripping the door frame, heading toward West Creek.
Eventually, she pulls off onto a narrow path.
Along the way, we pass locals. Some bare ass naked with sun-bronzed skin glistening with sweat, others in loose cotton summer clothes with frayed edges, most carrying faded beach towels slung over shoulders.
Some pad alongside the path in wolf form.
They all raise their hands, waving lazily as we drive past, their expressions a mix of curiosity and indifference.
At the end of the road, more shifters congregate around a clearing ringed with sun-bleached logs. I don’t recognize a lot of them.
There’s something a little feral about these wolves.
When Andrea parks the UTV, she turns to me, eyes bright, and grins. “These are the wild ones.”
Then she climbs out, leaving me scrambling awkwardly after her.
The wolves gathered call out Andrea’s name as we approach.
She greets them back, her face transformed by a smile I’ve never seen before.
Without warning, she peels off her clothes and tosses them aside.
She reaches the edge of a small cliff, then yells, “Keep an eye on our omega!” before launching herself into the empty air.
“Andrea!” I scream as I skid to a stop at the edge, just in time to see her splashing in the water below. Seconds later she resurfaces, her wild laughter bouncing off the rock walls, joined by howls from the other wolves.
We can jump further, Beep tells me. Allow yourself at least twenty steps, and I will share my strength to push you farther than her.
Sure, Jan, I say back, having too much fun to call her a psycho right now for turning everything into a competition.
Who is Jan?
“Nevermind,” I grumble under my breath as I strip off my clothes. I don’t get completely naked, but I’m down to my underwear. And I can feel Beep’s excitement as I run, then leap off the edge of the cliff.
In the air, I feel free.
The cold water shocks my system as I crash through the surface.
It’s a contrast from the summer heat, but feels incredible.
I climb up, then jump off that cliff five times in a row, each leap carrying away a piece of my frustration—at my mate’s secrets, my apparent father’s bullshit, everything that’s weighing me down.
By our sixth leap, my muscles are pleasantly tired, and my mind feels clearer.
Andrea gestures toward the group lounging on the rocks. “Come meet everyone.” These wolves I’ve never seen before nod and smile like we’re old friends. They’re almost all naked, and many in wolf form, just lounging and relaxed as could be. Even Beep, usually so guarded, seems to enjoy herself.
A cold bottle presses into my palm. I eye it skeptically. “Shifters can’t get drunk, I thought?”
“Wolfsbane infusion,” says a beta girl with sun-kissed skin and wild hair, pushing the bottle closer.
“Isn’t that poisonous?” I ask.
She just lifts one shoulder in response. I glance at Andrea, who watches me over the rim of her own bottle, eyes glinting with amusement. Before I can overthink it, I raise the beer to my lips.
“Relax,” drawls a lanky beta guy sprawled across a nearby rock. “A little poison never killed anyone.”
Andrea chokes mid-swallow. “God, you’re such an idiot.” She turns to me, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Don’t listen to him. Small doses are fine. Burns off fast, but you can get a decent buzz going for a while.” She clanks the neck of her beer bottle against mine.
I sip the drink slowly at first. “Tastes like apples,” I comment as I smack my lips together. It’s really hoppy, but there’s a cider quality to it.
Andrea’s lips curl into a half-smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. Something flickers across her face. I wait, beer halfway to my mouth, until she finally says, “Look, I know you’re pissed at me. You have every right to be. And frankly, I’ve had a shit-fucking week, too. But maybe we can just…”
I cut her off with a smirk and tip the bottle back, gulping down half the beer.
Oh. Shit.
Mona, go slow, Beep warns.
Woah. This is not like human alcohol.
It hits before I can even lower the bottle. My head goes weightless, every sharp edge in my body suddenly blurred and distant. “Maybe we can just forget everything for a minute,” I murmur, finishing her thought.
“Fucking cheers to that.” She taps my beer again, then downs her drink before running and jumping off the cliff. I’m half a second behind her.
I ignore the predatory gaze of the huge falcon across the cliff, talons meant for violence, gripping the branch like that might keep him from snatching me and flying me away to his lair.
Just as I pretend not to notice the hulking black wolf who watches me from upstream. Both silently protecting me.
Those problems—the missing shifters, my mates, Kendrick, and the wiches—they’ll still be waiting for me when this buzz fades.
I float with the wild ones, drunk on wolfsbane, swimming in the cool water, surrounded by wolves who don’t crowd me or try to touch me, but make jokes and laugh with each other, almost folding me into their world, making me feel like I’ve been here forever.
I fucking love Silent Peak.