Jillian Read online

  "One day far into the future," I muttered to myself. Unfortunately, everyone in the room had exceptional hearing.

  Voss snorted. "I agree."

  Quin gave us both scrutinizing looks, and Kane laughed. I supposed we’d have to have a real conversation about it at some point. But not today. Definitely not today.

  As soon as we returned to our home, we started moving preparations. Quin and Voss went to the trainee house and gave them instructions for moving their academy, Dad handled the sentries, and I started on the house. We had an email chain among the members of the pack that either worked for the pack itself or didn’t work outside the home and were willing to help with odd jobs when needed. I assigned them their own duties involving the move while Kane and I began the search for Trinity and Emerson.

  Moving took most of our focus for a solid week. Even Dad and Sissy moved with us, at my insistence, handing my childhood home over to a family with several young pups. Even if we someday had to leave our new manor, we had the money and ability to purchase our own homes.

  Many reports came in over the week of suspicious activities or supposed Trinity and Emerson sightings, but nothing panned out. They’d ghosted, gone totally off the grid. We followed every lead, but the investigation went nowhere. That worried me. The silence from them was almost too much. The anticipation of an attack made me jumpy and cranky.

  "I’m exhausted." I put my feet up on the coffee table. Most of the furniture had been left in the manor. We’d had it professionally cleaned, not that it had needed it, but I’d insisted on it after what happened to the family that lived there. Plus, we’d rearranged the layout of each room. I’d overseen furniture being moved to different rooms, some donated and replaced with our own, and some given to the Academy. I couldn’t stand the thought of it being exactly the same as the day of the murders.

  The manor had become a bustling center for the Collective almost overnight. Construction had begun on the basement for the Academy. The bedroom that the murders occurred in had been emptied and used for storage. No significance would be given to the space, instead we’d commissioned a statue in honor of the fallen owners. Besides, the love the family had built within these walls lingered, whispering to my sixth sense.

  "Me, too." Quin yawned and put his arm around me. The four of us had spent nearly every waking moment together, and it had helped us become more comfortable around each other. The guys were also starting to get used to seeing each other with me.

  Kane, sitting on my other side, took my hand. "Maybe we can have a few days of rest and quiet."

  I sighed. It sounded heavenly. "I hope so."

  Yet, I didn’t believe for a moment that we’d get any kind of R&R for long. At least not with Trinity and Emerson out there somewhere.

  2

  Jillian

  Surprisingly, we got our peace. We settled in. Finally, when things had begun to run smoothly—other than the worry of what Emerson and Trinity were plotting, and from where—my Dad walked into our large office.

  "It’s time, Jilly."

  "Aw, Daddy, now?" We’d just sat down to start budgeting a party to celebrate the forming of the Collective. I was nervous about what it meant to ascend to High Alpha. The process wasn’t painful, but it would be one long night, and several weeks of heightened emotions, getting used to my new strengths, and making mistakes. What if Trinity and Emerson turned up while I was nuts? "Are you sure we shouldn’t wait until this is done with Emerson and Trinity?"

  "I’m positive. You’ll need the added strength to fight them. Of that I’m certain."

  I narrowed my eyes on him for several moments. He had a heightened intuition that was never wrong.

  "How do you know?" I really wanted to wait until our problem was resolved.

  "One day, when you're ready to pass the torch on to your child, you'll know." He patted me on the back. "Let's go."

  "Wait, now, now?" I figured he'd meant that night or something. Not right that second.

  "Now, Jillian."

  I watched him walk from the room then glanced at my guys. "Well, I guess I'll see you guys later." My voice was weak, my nerves betraying me.

  Kane stood and pulled me into a hug. "You're going to be fine."

  "I know," I said into his chest as he squeezed me. He loosened his grip and Voss enveloped me into his arms, not squishing my face like Kane had. "I'm just a little nervous."

  Quin wrapped his arms around me from behind and sort of awkwardly hugged both me and Voss. "Don't be nervous. This is going to be great."

  I laughed. "Easy for you to say."

  They disentangled themselves, and I turned to the door to find my dad watching with a bemused expression on his face. "Ready?"

  I nodded. "Let's do this."

  "Get your coat."

  "We're leaving?" I scurried behind him, snatching my coat out of the closet. "What all does this entail?" I didn't know what to expect, except a dream sequence.

  "You'll see, Jilly." He jumped into his truck, and I felt like a little girl again, climbing in beside her daddy.

  "Why are you being so cryptic?" My insides swirled with millions of butterflies.

  He sighed and looked at me out of the corner of his eye. "You've always asked so many questions. On the drive, be quiet and contemplate what it means to you to be High Alpha."

  I tried to be quiet. I really did. I thought about how I would lead, what kind of leader I would be, if I would be benevolent.

  That lasted all of five minutes. I squirmed in my seat. "How long until we get where we're going? Where are we going?"

  "Everything will be revealed to you in good time." He refused to say anything after that. We drove high into the mountains, then parked near a stream.

  "Now we walk." He studied me for a few moments, his expression unreadable, then turned and went further up the mountain. I'd given up on asking questions. The man was stubborn.

  The trees gave way to a small clearing, sunlight highlighting the soft grass and tiny wildflowers. It was probably kept trimmed by local deer. The air felt charged with old magic and ancient spirits. I was tempted to open up my gift to see how many pasts I could see. But I kept my ability closed. This was my journey. I got the feeling that each High Alpha before me had their own experience as unique as each of them.

  "Sit and wait. When you get sleepy, sleep. You'll know when to come back to the car." He turned without another word and left me standing just outside the clearing.

  I watched him walk away until he disappeared from sight, then walked into the clearing. I gasped when the sun hit my face. It felt like peace, like comfort. The circle was magical in some way, of that I was certain.

  The soft grass called to me and I laid down in it, wriggling a little. I hadn't felt so worry-free in such a long time. The world was aligned to let me know that we would subdue Trinity and Emerson, and our new Collective would live in harmony. My guys and I would live happily after.

  A small voice in the back of my mind tried to warn me that this was exactly what Dad had hinted about. I was already getting sleepy, so comfortable and sure that all was right with the world.

  My mind argued with me about whether or not I should rouse myself. Ignoring myself, I closed my eyes, and when I opened them I was lying beside a fire.

  Dust from the barren ground covered me, and I abruptly stood, knocking off the dirt. I scanned the area to see where I was, only to discover I hadn’t gone anywhere. I was in the clearing, near the stream, yet everything was different. The surrounding trees were there, but they were bare, and the air was frikkin' freezing.

  "Hello? Anyone here?" I didn't know if I'd been transported in time or space. The clearing looked the same, except maybe in the middle of winter. But it could be a clearing somewhere in Antarctica for all I knew.

  "Jillian." A soft voice caused me to whirl around, but I couldn't see anything behind me in the dark. My exceptional vision wasn't helping, the forest had gone pitch black, so I couldn't even make out the in
dividual trees anymore.

  "Who's there? Show yourself." I rolled my eyes. You sound like a stereotype.

  A woman slowly appeared from the darkness, walking toward me on feet that didn't quite reach the ground.

  "Who are you?" I crouched, defensive. "Stay back." Inching to the opposite side of the fire, I tried to keep space between us.

  "You don’t recognize me." Her expression fell.

  I stopped worrying about the danger I was in and focused on her face. The firelight flickered over her delicate features. My eyes kept going to her nose and lips. They looked just like mine. "Mom?"

  "Hey, Jilly-girl." Her eyes filled with tears. "You’re so beautiful. The best parts of your father and me."

  My father. My mom stood before me, and my dad was with a new woman. Awkward.

  "Hey, mom." I stepped forward, vulnerability washing over me. Suddenly, I was a six-year-old girl again, watching her waste away from Fox Pox, a rare lycan disease. We’d been separated by an isolation tent. Funny, I’d forgotten about the tent.

  Tears filled my eyes, and I stumbled forward. "I remember you."

  She wrapped her arms around me tightly. She smelled the same, like flowery lotion or perfume. "I’m glad to hear it. You were too young when I had to leave you."

  "How are you here? Where is here?"

  She pulled back and looked into my face. "Unfortunately, here is in your own mind. I’m going to be your guide on this journey, Jillian."

  "Why you?" I felt stupid as soon as I asked. "Not that I’m not glad it’s you! Just, I figured it would be some High Alpha of the past."

  She stepped back a few feet, and a large log appeared behind her. She sat and patted the wood beside her. "Your father and I were fated. We were chosen, of all the lycans in the whole world, to complete each other."

  I smiled at her as I sat. "Dad’s told me the story so many times of how you met and fell in love."

  "Yes, well." She cleared her throat and blushed. "It was a wonderful time. But, as it turns out, we weren’t put together simply because we were compatible."

  "Why else then?"

  "To make you." She smoothed my hair back. "You were our mission. Our history, our DNA, it would combine to make you."

  Well, no pressure or anything. "What’s so great about me?"

  She laughed. The beautiful sound surrounded me, filled me with love. "You can’t see it. But ask yourself—would someone mediocre have three mates?"

  I snorted. "They’re a handful. I guess I’m special for handling them."

  She studied my face for a few moments, then her smile faded a little. "First, you’ll go on a journey back through our history. You’ll see our history, our origins."

  A rock dropped into my stomach. "Are you going with me?"

  "No, dear. I’ll see you back here when you’re done."

  She stood and walked behind me. By the time I’d turned, she was gone.

  I whirled to face the fire, nervous and apprehensive. But when I turned again, the fire was gone. It was like the world around me shifted. Dust kicked forward as I jumped to my feet, turning in circles to see where I’d gone.

  A woman’s scream sliced through the quiet stillness of the night. My sensitive ears told me to run left, so I did. The sound of the dirt crunching under my shoes changed to silence as I moved into the trees. The lush grass on the forest floor didn’t make any sounds.

  The shrill yell cut through the night again, and I veered left, homing in on the sounds. "I’m coming," I yelled. "Make more sounds so I can find you." My voice interrupted the stillness of the night alongside the sounds of my footfalls. I wasn’t making any attempt to be quiet.

  Her scream ripped again, but it was cut off with a growl. Shit. Something was attacking her. I pushed myself faster, hoping to get to her before it hurt her too much.

  I stumbled out of the forest suddenly, into another clearing. It was enormous, and full of small huts. Wigwam was the word that came to mind—I’d seen one before at a Native American museum. A few were longer and reinforced with logs. The source of all the noise was in the middle of the clearing, in the middle of a shift.

  The moonlight brightened the area, giving me perfect vision to watch the woman struggle through a shift. I would’ve said it was her first time except she was far too old for it to be her first shift. I ran forward to try to help her. "It’s okay. It’ll be over soon."

  She ignored me, so I continued. "Are you okay? Do you understand what’s going on?"

  Still nothing. She twisted in agony and screamed again. Her bones popped as they reformed and realigned into her lycan form.

  "You’re almost done." I tried to be soothing. I’d never been one for first transformations. Occasionally we’d get an orphan or something that didn’t have an adult to help them through their first phase.

  I was never the person that did it.

  Reaching out tentatively, I attempted to pat her on the arm, careful of the distance between us. Her bite wouldn’t give me a long-term injury, but it would freaking hurt.

  My hand passed right through her arm. "Son of a bitch," I muttered. I wasn’t really there. Sucking in a huge breath, I shouted as loudly as I could.

  She didn’t acknowledge the sound at all. She hadn’t heard it. "Well, okay." I stepped back and watched her shift. The first few times were fairly painful. Eventually our bodies got used to the shifting and the pain lessened. I didn’t know how or why it went away, but I was thankful it did.

  The transformation was slow, and I used the time to study her change. We didn’t often get a chance to watch someone else shift. When the full moon hit, we all shifted together. In the midst of turning, paying attention to what someone else looked like as they transformed wasn’t top priority.

  I turned my head toward the moon. It was completely full, but I didn’t hear anyone else around. The forest around me was quiet. Too quiet, actually. In fact, I didn’t feel the pull of the moon telling me to shift. Odd.

  Her body finished its magical job, and she stood in front of me, panting heavily. Her coat was thick and gray. She turned her head toward the moon and howled, a lonely sound.

  No howls responded. "What the fuck?"

  When we were in our wolf form, it was almost impossible to ignore the call. Even the lowest pack member could howl and expect a response from every member of the pack in hearing distance, all the way up to the High Alpha. We had rules about howling when shifted, otherwise all we’d do all night is howl.

  She howled again, her voice pitiful. The loneliness was an ache that set into my bones. She took off running, and I followed as fast as I could.

  "Stop," a voice called. I skidded to a stop and whirled around to see the same woman that had just shifted standing where I’d been seconds before. "Don’t follow her."

  "What’s going on? You can see me?"

  She inclined her head. "I’m here to tell you the first part of your story." Her clothing was minimal. She wore no shirt, just a decorative necklace made of shells. Her hair was long and braided in two long braids that nearly reached her belly button. Her skirt was fringed and was some sort of handmade leather. On her feet were moccasins. They looked soft and comfortable.

  After taking in her traditional dress and training my eyes away from her bare chest, I gestured to the forest behind me. "You’re the wolf?"

  Her accent was faint, but I could hear that English wasn’t her native tongue. "I am Amonute. Please, come. You need to see what I set in motion."

  "Are you dead?" I couldn't help myself. I was fairly certain a damn ghost was in front of me, telling me about her shift.

  "Very much so. Lycan are long lived, but what you just witnessed happened many hundreds of years ago." Amonute held her hand out again. "Let me tell you our story."

  Why not? It's all in my head, anyway. I think. I hope.

  Her hand was warm and felt as alive as my own. "You don't feel dead."

  She laughed, the sound light and twinkling. A far cry from the screams
I'd heard from her earlier. "I'm a projection in your mind. I wish to feel alive to you, so I am."

  "Where are we going?"

  "I have to show you why this happened." Amonute walked to the closest wigwam. "This was my home. I grew up nearby, with my parents. My father was a great warrior, and my mother respected in our tribe. She was a leader, and both were sought after for advice and friendship by many of our people."

  The longer she spoke, the thicker her accent grew. I understood her perfectly. The cadence of her natural language made her voice melodic and her words, even in English, beautiful. "When I was of marriage age, a young hunter asked for me as his bride. My father was pleased, though he was not a warrior, he was one of our best hunters, and had—oh, what is the English word? He had Nemën, he could see, feel?"

  "Like a sense that would help him hunt?" I asked.

  "Yes, exactly. He said if he closed his eyes and quieted his mind, he could see the path before him that would lead him to food."

  It sounded a lot like the gifts that had been handed down in my family. "Are you my ancestor?"

  Her face lit up. "I am. You are my granddaughter, many times over." She closed her eyes. "My Totopotomoy was handsome. And I was his first wife, the one he chose for love and companionship."

  "First wife?"

  "Our tribe, what you would know now as the Powhatan, we married for the help. If we didn't partner, life was too difficult. Men often had many wives, contracted for short periods of time as needs arose. But the first wife was usually a choice of love or companionship, or general compatibility. Totopotomoy's parents paid a generous bridewealth for me. I was already adept at farming and weaving. I made an excellent wife for Totopotomoy."

  Was that all she was? A wife?

  My thoughts must've shown on my face. "Do not think that way." She gave me a knowing look. "You are a modern, independent woman. Powhatan women had fewer options. We had to be good wives, produce healthy babies, and make our husbands happy and proud. But that didn't mean that we were powerless. A clever Powhatan woman controlled her husband, not the other way around." She smiled. "I was a clever Powhatan woman. Weroansquas, a woman chief, were not common, but we did exist."