Kitsune Chronicles

I woke up dizzy, half-blind, and incredibly nauseous. I worried moving at all would make me hurl up an intestine or two. My chest ached, lungs feeling heavy. Something sounded liquid when I breathed, a nice accent to accompany the wheezing howl of a punctured lung.

The walls of my tiny home surrounded me with bright lights and silence. Living alone, and a healthy distance from civilization, had seemed like a good idea at the time. The vague sounds of voices and music floated from the Volkov’s home, beyond the garden and the forest. The annual festival in full swing meant no one would hear me even if I could scream. Sensitive werewolf ears or not.

Robin’s absence brought tears to my already blurred vision. He’d been limiting his visits because we’d argued one time too many about my choice of lovers. He’d been right. I choked back a sob of self-pity. No amount of wishing could change the past.

Dying alone had never crossed my mind before that moment. Apa often said I was young, and the young thought themselves invincible. I thought he was being overdramatic. Only it was true. If I had imagined for one second this was how it would end…

I swallowed back a mouthful of blood, not willing to let the memories of how I’d ended up here overwhelm me. I was dying. If I didn’t do something, I would die, and he would win. Months of fighting for freedom, and a few weeks of living the dream had left me here.

I hadn’t expected his attack, should have adjusted my wards. I’d never thought he’d attempt such a vile act with the Volkov was close by.

Was this another lesson? Was I once again being taught my place? Not a werewolf, so not worthy of protection? Perhaps this was to toughen me up. Could some of my wards have prevented all this pain?

Probably. Why hadn’t I thought ahead? Why had my brain refused to entertain the idea that he’d come after me? It wasn’t like he hadn’t before. This hadn’t even been the second time.

I’d expected Apa to keep him away. Who wouldn’t have faith in the Volkov, the king of werewolves, to protect them? He’d called me son my entire life, and I thought of him as my father, Apa. Yet, maybe the words weren’t enough. He was the Volkov’s son by blood. Maybe that meant more. Or maybe I just hadn’t been worth as much as I’d been led to believe.

Funny the things that seem to fall into place when you are dying. Apa never encouraged my independence. Although he’d given me access to the land and allowed me to make my own mistakes for years. He’d even supported my alchemy. Though I wondered now if that was only because it was useful to him. Maybe it hadn’t been enough and now I was expendable.

How many times in my research had I read about forbidden spells? Alchemy in general was the exchange of one equal thing for another. The concept of life for life had intrigued many an alchemist in history. The equivalent exchange to create some kind immortality. Never were the stories about people dying from cancer and trying to save themselves or a loved one. No, they always turned dark. Making the alchemists out to be villains.

I’d barely begun to scratch the surface with my investigations into past works, but I’d read enough to know the basics. The horrors. Perhaps the history was biased. Survival could lead anyone to desperate measures. I was no exception. Maybe it didn’t have to be the ultimate evil the books made it out to be. Life was everywhere, right? Humanity didn’t have a patent on it. There was a lot of philosophy about the value of higher life forms. I’d never been so rigid. Growing up in a werewolf pack proved to anyone just how little life of any kind meant. Wolves died every day. Especially the Volkov’s wolves.

A life for a life.

Ten feet from my doorstep I had a garden the size of a football field, filled with life. Would it be enough? My heart ached with the idea of the garden’s destruction. I’d started it from a tiny plot and a handful of seeds when I’d been no more than ten years old. But I could start over as long as I didn’t damage the earth too much.

What was my other choice? Take life from another person? Lie here and die?

I wasn’t sure I could move at all. Blood pooled around me, staining the pale wood floor, and looking like a murder scene from a movie. If it weren’t for the fact that all the lights were on, the blood might not have looked so fluorescent. Blood in general was more brown or dark red than anything as luminescent from the movies. I was losing blood fast, and had to get moving.

My whole body trembled as I reached down to slide myself across the floor. My legs wobbled like jelly, unable to support my weight, and my arms shook with the effort of dragging myself to the door. I inched like a worm, pressing into the floor with what little strength I had to move forward. The soaking wetness of my blood made the floor slippery. I strained to reach for the door, which was only a few feet away. Grabbing at anything for leverage, I hauled my battered body across the small space. Blood continued to pool up into my throat, choking me, even as I sputtered and spit it out.

I refused to contemplate why I was nude, and ignored the other fluids and pain that stained my skin with violence. Bad memories wouldn’t make me stronger. Fighting panic and rising death at the same time would not hasten my pace. Nor would it bolster my resolve to survive.

One eye went completely black like a switch had been flipped. I wasn’t sure if it was my vision or just blood covering it. Either way, my depth perception shifted, disorienting me further. Reaching for the edge of the doorway, I fell out the open door and down the two steps to the ground.

For a few heartbeats I just rested there, assuring myself that I just needed a minute. Only I didn’t really have a minute.

My head throbbed, and each breath bubbled with blood and hissed with air, a combination that just made me hurt even more. Why couldn’t he have just killed me with one blow? Why hadn’t I just died when he’d knocked me out? Or bled to death while unconscious? Why did I have to be awake for it? Was it some sort of cruel joke of the universe?

I swallowed more blood and spit out another mouthful, adding a horrible wet cough to the end. One more deep attempt for air, the tiny sips between the building fluid feeling like heavenly nectar, and I clawed at the earth to get a few feet further.

The garden was so close. The paving stones and fancy carved dirt path Oberon had laid two years’ prior kept the grass at bay, and me from my target. I stretched toward the green, heart slowing with the effort.

My vision fogged further, the pinpricks of starlight vanishing into a shady darkness. I wasn’t ready for this. Hadn’t planned any of this. But I’d been cocky. The wolves always thought me cocky. Who was I to play their games? Who was I to tell them no? Or demand respect? Who was I to think anyone would protect me from my own bad decisions?

I blinked furiously into the darkness. Tears trailing down my cheeks, or maybe the warmth was just blood. I never thought my life would end this way. Alone. Lying in the dirt, staring up into a blackened sky. The feeling of abandonment raged within my heart. I’d fought for so long to be seen and heard, to prove myself worthy, only to die alone and unwanted.

My soul screamed into the silence, longing for something. Calling for something even if my voice couldn’t release any sound. Surprisingly, it wasn’t a sense of unfairness that I reached for, or even anger. It was a desperate plea of not yet. There was something out there, close, so close…

Something I needed in a way so visceral that my gut nearly leapt toward it. If I could have moved another inch, I would have crawled toward it even if I’d been dragging organs and the last pieces of my battered body.

Please, I thought into the growing darkness I knew was death. I didn’t know what I was asking for. Please don’t let me die? Please let someone find me? Please let me die quickly?

My sluggish heart fought for each slowing beat. It echoed in my head, louder than I’d ever heard it before. I stared into the distance, vaguely able to make out some trees beyond the garden, and possibly the moon overhead in a giant crescent. A clear night to die. Might have even been beautiful if I could see the stars.

One of the trees moved. My whole body jerked involuntarily with fear. Was he returning? I accidentally sucked in a blood-soaked breath, leaving me sputtering and choking.

The shape glowed with the slight edge of white. The moon’s reflection perhaps? The scent of vanilla and man tickled my nose, faint beneath the metallic tang of blood. The shape dropped down beside me. Hands touched my face. Warmth spreading from his fingers into the very depths of my soul. His touch made me want like I’d never imagined wanting anything in my life.

I wanted to wrap myself around him, bathe in his essence, and beg him to never let me go. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t see his face and didn’t know his name. My soul told me he was mine. It sang of promise, as his warmth trickled through the shattered walls of my personal wards.

What sort of magic was this? Was he fae?

He lifted my head and shoulders into his lap, his words a rush of noise around me without coherent sound. Or perhaps that was just my brain. The night itself was silent and unmoving. No wind, birds or bugs. A bad omen? Or permanent brain damage?

The form that held me, stroked my hair. His embrace felt like kindness, love, and sadness.

“Are you a spirit of dark or light?” I asked, not sure if sound actually left my lips.

His face nestled close to mine, little more than just a shadow in the darkness. His hand was warm on my cheek when he said, “I will be your light or dark. Your strength and pain. I offer you all of me. My soul to yours.” Sweet words spoken with an unfamiliar voice. If I could have touched him then, I would have. I wanted to beg him to speak more, hold me tighter, and not leave me to die alone.

All I could think to say was, “Then kiss me and share your spirit.”

Odd that the words seemed to choose themselves. I had no thoughts of kisses or spells before that moment as I was too far gone. But the second his lips touched mine, everything became liquid fire. His heat poured into me, soothing the wounds, pressing into places that hurt—a deep, raging, flame. We both gasped for breath as the power flowed between us. Healing me like nothing I’d ever imagined possible before.

I had a moment of terror when his hold on me went slack. A fine tremor ran through him, but I couldn’t stop the flow of energy. Was I killing him? No! My heart screamed with the possibility of it. He couldn’t die. I needed him.

My lungs healed, and the throbbing behind my eyes faded. For a breath, my vision cleared enough that I could almost see him, make out pale eyes, and the outline of his lips. But I ripped myself out of his grasp, transforming as I did so. From human to fox in one breath to the next. He reached for me, the link still live between us.

His need echoed mine. The link between us carried the emotion to me in a wave of feeling. The way he reached for me made my heart ache to drop into his arms and beg for him to hold me.

Only the life I took from him was too much. His eyes drooped and his shoulders fell slack as he toppled backward.

I waited a few heartbeats in terror, watching for movement in his chest. Was I truly a monster? Had I destroyed someone so perfect for me? A moment passed into the next, and finally I saw it. The small rise and fall of his chest. He was breathing. The link between us was fading, but I could still see it stretching between us. His energy flowing into me. Still healing.

The boisterous sound of voices moved toward us from the distance. I trembled; fear renewed. What if he found out he failed to kill me? Would he try again? This night hadn’t been any sort of accident. I had to get away.

I took one last longing look at the man who’d saved my life, then turned to run away. Into the darkness of the forest I raced, leaving behind everything. My entire life had been in the camper, attached to a wolfpack who reviled me. Only now one small thing tugged at my heart, the mysterious stranger I’d left behind. The link between us thinned like over-stretched taffy. I thought it eventually would snap. But it just continued to stretch as I ran, connecting me forever to a man whose kiss I dreamt about nearly every night for the next year of my life.

The dark stretch of forest filled with huffs, growls, and snarls. Werewolves were everywhere, scattered through the nearby woods, changing from their human shape into the beast controlled by the need to hunt, while the full moon overhead lit their way.

The lunar cycle didn’t require a change like in novels, it simply made for easier hunting, meeting, and planning of play dates. The younger wolves often felt compelled to shift, more a pull of the magnetic moon field than true magic. My mate ensured the young pack members transformed often enough that the choice would never be taken from them by stress or uncontrolled emotion. Because werewolves were human after all. Not natural wolves, or true animals of any kind. They were beasts birthed from death and blood magic, each one having to die before being reborn. A mess of humanity tainted with old curses, or so my alchemy research had led me to believe.

A werewolf’s shift hurt. The snapping of bones, stretching of flesh, and growth of fur had to be excruciating. Blood curses weren’t meant to be painless. It was the whole point of a curse. The wolves most vulnerable during a change, much like a vampire when the sun lit the sky, they kept themselves quiet, taking the pain with practiced silence.

As witchblood, my gift had been in my veins from the beginning of my life. Born instead of reborn, I could shift into a fox, instantaneous and pain-less, rather than long minutes of morphing body structure. I was also more like a real fox, much smaller than my human form, unlike the wolves whose transformation meant a full body mass far beyond the norms of wolf nature. The werewolves’ curse was similar to a disease rather than the true magic of my change.

The pack shifted, stretched, and paced the forest, close enough I could smell them, fur and musk on the wind.

Logically I knew they wouldn’t attack me. However, logic had no power over anxiety and a lifetime of abuse. I was omega, the species not important, though I’d always thought otherwise. Omegas worked like an essential oil to soothe the pack in a few ways, installing unity, peace, and even some life to the older wolves. A bit of magic, some occasionally told me. Being an omega didn’t feel like magic to me. Many wolves saw omegas as weak, lesser, and a disruption of the violence that could make a pack deadly. The last was true for the most part. A sane wolf wouldn’t attack an omega, it was against their nature.

I had met my share of insane wolves in my life.

My mate Liam paced a few feet away, not yet in his wolf form, though the tension sang through every muscle of his body. He waited for the pack to gather first to assure that their changes had finished, and they were safe. His beast longed for release. The strength of the group pouring into him with each transition.

Liam’s shift didn’t take as long as most of his wolves. He could be man one minute and wolf a minute or two later. Faster now that we were mated, but already quick due to his status as alpha of the pack and his age. While he appeared to be mid-twenty-something, I knew he was a lot older, possibly even a few hundred years older. Though he had yet to give me specific details about his first shift or life before the wolf became his other half.

He waited by my side, listening, pacing, and stretching his muscles.

“You can change, Seb,” he told me. “Almost everyone is done.”

This was to be my first outing with the pack. Not because they hadn’t had nights like this since I joined; Liam arranged them at least once a week. This was my first because none of it was meant for me. As an omega and witchblood, I didn’t have the drive to hunt, chase prey, or even howl at the moon and join in a chorus of my fellow shifters. I hunted for food when hungry, and spent most of the rest of my time as a fox either hiding or snoozing. I recalled many a night growing up in the Volkov’s pack hiding in my room, and later my camper surrounded by wards, listening to the howl of wolves and the terrifying sounds of a death hunt filling the night.

“I’ll wait until after you,” I told Liam, not ashamed to hide under his belly if necessary. Or run home if it all became too much.

“They won’t hurt you.”

Sure. Maybe. I believed Liam wouldn’t hurt me. The rest of the pack… It wasn’t that I didn’t believe in them, it was more the memory of many years living in fear.

Liam stepped close enough to lean down and kiss me gently on the lips. A wolf approached, careful, and slow. Dylan, by the look of his dusky fur, still scruffy and thin from his healing. He was a big wolf, and Liam’s third in command. He paused, waiting. Liam nodded at him before stepping away from me to strip off his clothes and begin his transformation. A guard then, I thought. Not to guard my mate during his change, but me.

I frowned at Dylan whose gaze didn’t leave me, and couldn’t help but snark, “Don’t be looking at my mate’s butt. I’ll tell Sean,” I warned Dylan. Sean was his mate, though they weren’t fated bond mates like Liam and I.

Dylan raised his snout, peeling his lips back to bare his fangs in the slightest of mocking. Technically he couldn’t totally understand me in this form. The senses of a werewolf in wolf form weren’t as structured as the normal human brain. But he also wasn’t a young wolf, which meant it was likely he recognized some things like mate and Sean. He looked at Liam, whose transition was almost complete, before tapping the ground at my feet.

“I’ll change when he’s finished,” I said.

Dylan didn’t seem to be buying it. We’d tried this a week ago with a smaller group, a handful of wolves I thought I was comfortable with, and I’d run home instead. Not all my fault. Toby had been with us, and his shift had gone badly, slow and so painful that I’d tried to approach to calm him and ease the change. He’d snapped at me. A reaction of self-preservation for a werewolf in the middle of a change. And while I understood it now, at the time, it had been too much for me.

Tonight, Carl had taken Toby deep into the woods, away from the group and me. I felt bad that I couldn’t help him. It was my job as alpha mate and omega to ease the troubles of the wolves. But Toby’s issues were more a battle between him and his wolf than anything my presence could soothe. I’d helped him regain enough of his humanity to still be among the living. Coming to an agreement with the wolf was something only he could do.

Dylan huffed at me, not daring to get close enough to irritate Liam, who was much more territorial in wolf form. I glanced at Liam and found him shaking out his newly furred form, stretching his legs and his back in loud popping noises that sounded uncomfortable. Since he sighed happily, I assumed it felt good.

Liam looked my way.

“Okay, okay,” I said and stripped off my shirt, then kicked off my shoes. I didn’t do the whole naked before the group thing that most shifters didn’t seem to have a problem with. Part of that was because of the territorial aggression Liam had for me as his mate, and part was due to me being scrawny with bright red hair and dark skin. My kitsune coloring always seeped through to my human side. Admitting to being self-conscious about it, did not make it go away. Mostly Liam understood. Unless he was waiting for me to get a move on like he was that minute.

Liam growled as I dropped my pants. Dylan yipped, and I heard him walk away, though I couldn’t get past the burn of embarrassment heating my cheeks to look at him. Had he been staring? I might tease Dylan for looking at Liam, but he would never dare. Sean would gut him. Sean might gut Liam too for good measure. Dylan’s lover was human, but he was no pushover.

I hurried to strip out of the rest of my clothes and change before the cool breeze could chill my flesh. Unlike the wolf, as my fox vision crystalized around me, I saw as a human. I was still me. Complete with all the anxiety and emotional baggage.

Liam approached slowly, taking care with my skittish nature. I wouldn’t run from him, even though his wolf towered over my fox form. He leaned down and nuzzled my snout, rubbing his scent on me, and letting me lean on him. He did not plan to hunt either. Not unless I was comfortable enough to let him go ahead of me, or there was an issue in the pack that only he could resolve.

None of the wolves should have been particularly hungry. We had made a huge feast to fill them all before the change and ease the need to hunt. Play was okay, I had convinced myself. The wolves would play, run, and even fight, but all in good spirits, not actual danger.

Bonding with the pack was important to Liam as an alpha. As his mate, the least I could do was try. A human would never have been out here in the dark. But there were also no stories of alphas finding their fated mates in a regular person. While I considered myself more human than most werewolves were, the truth was likely a muddy middle ground since I could be a giant kitsune, a fox demon, instead of the fox. We were still working on perfecting that. Calling it, controlling it, and retraining my rational thinking when it took over. Tonight was to be me as the fox, getting used to the pack at play.

No big deal, right?

Liam nudged me and we headed toward the pack. I could feel them all hovering in the dark. The dominant wolves in front as Liam approached, each of the submissive wolves, the handful we had, protected by a dominant. They liked to run, and hunted for food. Their wolf nature did not crave the fear of the chase, but did long for the blood and kill it required, unlike me. A submissive werewolf was just as deadly as an alpha werewolf. The submissive ones were simply less likely to become caught up in the hunt.

I made out Kevin’s pale gray fur nearby as Liam directed me his way. Kevin was a submissive, but an old one. He could also be ruthless, cunning, and as deadly as any dominant, it simply wasn’t his default setting. Kevin approached, giving me a little bow of his head. He was old enough to retain more of his humanity, I thought as Liam prodded me to Kevin’s side. Apparently he was to be my guard tonight. A companion who wouldn’t necessarily be drawn to the hunt, or a fight between dominants which was more likely, and one I could trust not to turn on me. My mate was the smart one of our duo.

Liam took the lead, the dominants fanning out around him and me, forming a circle of sorts. The rest of the pack were already running and howling in the distance, unfettered by worry about protecting the submissives or me.

We made our way from a walk to a trot to a run. Almost like jogging in a group, only the circle got wider and wider. Liam and Kevin stayed close, but everyone else began to fan out, chasing squirrels, rabbits, or each other as we encountered the rest of the group.

I let Liam and Kevin get farther ahead, easing to a trot and finally a walk. Liam peeked my way several times, but I paused to lick my paw, giving him the sign that he was free to chase into the night and stretch his wolf spirit. He hesitated, but finally let the sounds of play draw him away. Kevin vanished into the brush too.

The sounds of the night echoed with its typical birds, and wind. This far into the woods, near the mountains, and almost to the Canadian border, there wasn’t much for traffic noise, or people in general. The coming cold of winter brought a chill to the air that would keep most casual hikers and campers away. Not that any of them would be out this late at night.

A recent fight over the Washington State wolf population had waged trouble for the pack. I knew Liam was part of a huge push to get the hunting of wolves banned again, despite being made legal recently. There really weren’t a lot of real wolves left in Washington. But the werewolves made up a sizeable few packs. Would a hunter know the difference if they encountered them out in the wild? I wasn’t sure anyone would survive pointing a gun at a werewolf. And I had yet to hear about any werewolf deaths by hunter. It also took more than a bullet to kill most werewolves, so shooting them only pissed them off.

I flinched when I heard the snarls and then a scream of a dying rabbit. I killed rabbits too. It was part of being a predator. Though I’d always been fast to snap its neck after a sneak attack. Never letting it utter a sound more a point of humanity than pride. If I could be fast enough, it would never know it was coming, never experience pain or fear. I’d had enough of both in my short lifetime. I continued to move, slinking through the underbrush now, away from the sounds of the pack, but still close enough to be considered part of it. Or at least that’s what I hoped.

Howls rang in a chorus through the night. Memories of my childhood rolled through me in waves of things I wish hadn’t been ingrained.

They’d found larger prey. A deer probably. Several wolves raced by me, not even noticing me crouched beside a tree, as they followed the cries of their pack and the potential of a real hunt. Hunting bound the pack closer as a group. The unity of bringing down a larger kill and sharing the spoils, even if it was only a mouthful, united them together. They would eat because wasting the meal wasn’t the way of the wild, but the hunt, that was more human than wolf. I think that part scared me the most. Not the fact that they hunted, but that they enjoyed it so much. Even my mate.

Instinct, I reminded myself. A mash of the wolf and human turning the hunt from something necessary for food, to an event of domination, power, and structure. I tried to breathe through the rising anxiety.

The sounds of the chase filling the night, wild cries of frightened animals and excited wolves, made my heart race with terror. I crouched low to the ground, frozen, remembering a thousand horrible things that had long since passed, and berated myself for the weakness. None of them would hurt me. Even hot on a chase. I was omega, and Liam’s pack sane, mostly stable, and cognizant enough of their surroundings not to attack me. Though a fox was normal prey for hungry wolves.

I remembered the time as a pup when Felix had attacked Apa. Both of them becoming dark monstrous things my brain still wouldn’t define. Oberon had saved me that day, racing to interrupt the fight and lead me to safety. He hadn’t changed into that demonic sort of wolf. I didn’t know if he could. But the glimpse of the other two had been enough to instill terror. The question had been burning inside me for weeks as I had been too afraid to push for an answer. Did all werewolves become monsters in the end? Demonic? Almost vampiric in appearance and filled with insatiable hunger? Was that the fate that would someday claim Liam? I shuddered at the thought.

It was the darkness and loneliness that brought the memories back, I reminded myself. Getting to my feet again took a lot of willpower when the snapping of twigs and breaking of brush echoed from all around. There was a chase afoot.

None of them realized that I’d been left behind. And that was okay because I didn’t really need them to witness my cowardice. It gave me a minute to breathe, sort through the fear, and parse out what was rational and not. I could do this for Liam’s sake. Had to, I kept reminding myself. How long had I run from everything? Telling myself I needed nothing and no one, until I ran right into Liam. His kiss changed my life, and I’d do a lot to see him smile.

I got up, shook out my fur and listened, trying to parse a direction. The scent of my mate wafting his wonderful sweet bread smells came from the northwest, so I headed that way. As soon as he realized I wasn’t behind him, and I was afraid, he would double back, leaving the pack to find me. I didn’t flee. The night was cool with the approaching fall and winter, breeze light, forest filled with life, everything from bugs and birds, to the not-so-delicate steps of new werewolves.

I was okay in the darkness. Even knowing that the wolves were out there, hunting, didn’t make me run. Liam would be back any second, and I was fast enough to outrun most wolves. We were on Liam’s land. All I had to do was race to my camper and bolt myself inside. I let that little fact bolster me into a slight jog.

The sounds of breaking brush grew closer. Snarling and growling filling the air and making me stop. I didn’t want to be in the way of their chase. And this sounded like a real fight rather than a hunt. No one should be real fighting tonight.

I sent a tug down the invisible tie that stretched between Liam and me. The bond was much clearer when I was a fox to his wolf, but still felt more like me imagining pulling taffy instead of something tangible. Liam always came. I could feel him coming now, turned in my direction in a concerned lope.

I waited in the small clearing, trying to make out the wolves’ snarls and identify who they belonged to, but I didn’t know most of them that well. Someone yelped and half screamed, a dog’s howl of pain. I flinched and leapt toward the noise, thinking first that if someone was hurt, I could at least help seal a wound with a well-practiced ward or two.

A wolf bounded free of the bush in front of me, its powerful legs taking it over the top of me, hot blood dripping down as it passed, to land hard just a few feet away. I winced, recognizing his scent before the color of his fur. Toby.

He had a long gash on one of his back legs. He limped and dragged himself away, using me as cover. Though I wasn’t sure he even knew I was there.

Another wolf launched through the foliage as though chasing Toby, teeth bared and claws extended, reaching for me, who stood in his way. I didn’t think in that moment, instead I let the need to protect overwhelm me.

Toby was mine. No one got to hurt him. He might scare me sometimes, but he was still mine to protect.

The kitsune erupted from my skin, rising to tower over the pair and sending the second wolf cowering. Ice and fire mixed in a blue green swirl around me. The rage of the beast filled my gut in a way I never experienced in my other forms.

I dove toward the second wolf with a grace more like a cat than anything a fox or wolf might have had, but suddenly Liam was there, taking the swipe of my paw, blood instantly oozing from his side.

Fuck! I cried, my yip sounding like a painfilled, ghostly howl. Liam didn’t flinch. The other wolves backed away. I saw the reflection of my own monster in his eyes. The wolves scattered, running away from me as I’d so often run from them. Even Toby was led away by another wolf, all slinking into the darkness like they worried I’d chase them.

The kitsune wanted to chase them. It could find joy in the hunt, fear, and kill. I refused to let it have that much control.

Liam wasn’t afraid. Not even while he bled and stood in the midst of the swirling green and blue fire, untouched by my magic. It didn’t affect him at all while it would have frozen the other wolves. He bled from my claws, not my magic, and that alone was enough to shove the kitsune back.

I dropped to my knees, instantly human and reached for my mate. I’d hurt him. How did that make me better than anyone else? Or even different from all the pain I’d had doled out to me in the past?

“I’m sorry!” I reached for him. If he’d snubbed me, I’d have deserved it, but he stepped into my embrace, let me wrap clumsy arms around him and carefully trace healing wards into his fur. He didn’t really need them as the bleeding slowed and the wounds began to quickly heal. Werewolves were pretty indestructible. But once again I’d proven myself incapable of being what Liam needed for the pack.

He huffed, an odd sound coming from the wolf, and then he changed. I hated watching it, though forced myself to memorize his pain, even if it only lasted a minute. He yanked me into his arms and kissed me hard before letting me go to stare into my face through the darkness.

“Don’t ever be ashamed of protecting a member of the pack,” he said.

“Against another member of the pack?”

“Marlow knows how easy it is to rile Toby. I was on my way to break them up.”

“I could have killed him,” I pointed out. The kitsune had wanted to. Marlow. Another of Liam’s wolves. Young but not new or as broken as poor Toby. Marlow was a bit of a troublemaker.

“You didn’t,” Liam said.

“Because you got in the way.”

“One swipe wouldn’t have killed him. Might have killed you with the guilt, but not him.”

I sighed; Liam knew me so well. I traced my fingers down his healing flank, the lines of the swipe nothing but pink scars that were quickly fading. In an hour, they’d be gone. One of the perks of being an alpha meant healing abilities that most other wolves could never dream of.

“Maybe me bonding with the pack isn’t a good idea?”

“We will keep practicing,” Liam said, unwilling to give up on me. Dylan appeared in human form, fully dressed, and carrying our clothes. Liam must have called him through the pack bond, and I hadn’t been able to tell. It made me angry with myself as only once had I been able to connect to the pack like that. It had been while rescuing Dylan, and totally accidental.

“It really sucks if my powers only work in life or death situations,” I told my mate as I yanked on my clothes. “I want to be useful to you.”

“You are,” he assured me.

“For more than sweets and tea.”

“Don’t forget the endless booty calls,” Dylan added.

I growled at him. Liam laughed. “I do enjoy the booty calls.”

“That’s it. You’re sleeping on the couch, or something…” I said with no heat, because there was no chance I’d get any sleep without Liam by my side.

“I love you,” Liam responded, making me sputter as I hadn’t had the courage to say it back yet. “You’re mine. You are necessary, whether your brain tells you that you are or not. End of discussion.” Fully dressed, he grabbed my hand and tugged me toward home.

“That’s it? ‘Cause you said so, it’s over? I can’t wallow?” I demanded.

“Nope,” Liam agreed. “The only wallowing you get to do is in me. We will keep working with the pack. We have time. This is not a race.”

“What if the pack needs me and I’m too afraid to help?”

“Have you ever not been there?” Liam asked. “You protected Toby without more than half a second of thought. I think if the pack needs you, you’ll be there.”

“Or running away like a chicken,” I grumbled.

Liam squeezed my hand, then lifted it to kiss the back of my knuckles. “Trust your instincts. They brought you to me, didn’t they?”

“I’m still not sure that was a good thing for you.”

“I’m sure enough for the both of us. You are mine.”

“Yours,” I agreed, and for the moment that was enough.

The whole town had lost its collective mind. Every corner, building, light post, and street sign displayed the insanity, wrapped with garland, lights, and string. Spider webs covered windows. 3D vinyl ghouls lunged from doorways and scarecrows protruding from haystacks decorated the sidewalk.

Not a sweet little Hallmark Christmas town once October spawned. No. It was a Nightmare Before Christmas town.

Maple Falls loved Halloween.

I guess for those who couldn’t see ghosts, spooky was a bit of a novelty. However, since the town population was half werewolf, I’d have thought that silly decorations of ghosts, ghouls, witches, zombies, and… inflatable werewolves, would have made everyone duck heads and pretend to not believe in the supernatural.

Not Maple Falls. This podunk nowhere embraced the spooky holiday like it starred in the next “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown” special.

Rather, everyone played up the magic, not hiding fang or claw, or eye-shine, and easily laughing it all off as good costumes and play. Even Liam’s bakery, The SweeTooth, played up the name, werewolves, sweets, and spooky.

The bake case, packed with supernaturally themed cakes, cookies, and scones, wore decorations of teeth, bugs, bulging eyes, brains, or blood, painted in frosting. And Orange, black, and purple streamers hung everywhere. Old movie posters from the Werewolves of London and other classics hung on the walls in place of what had been more traditional prints. They had painted fake webs across the window edges and bake case, and even the stickers on the bread packages featured pumpkins, skulls, or spiders.

“Couldn’t they at least do a traditional day of the dead?” I grumbled to myself as we made our way to the hardware store. Webs stretched of cotton, streamers, and bleached skeletons wrapped the small shop in ghoulish delights.

Liam needed to pick up an order, so Dylan followed us with an empty hand truck. I could have stayed behind, but since we’d been so busy the past few days, when Liam had invited me along, I jumped at the opportunity to spend time with him. “What are we picking up?”

“Some last-minute giveaway stuff for tomorrow,” Liam said. He held my hand as we entered the shop. I was still getting used to him being so open about… us… me.

Just inside the entry a cage filled with black kittens sat on a wide table, a handwritten sign taped to the front reading “For Sale.”

I frowned, not liking the idea of anyone selling kittens, especially black ones for Halloween. I looked up at the owner, who was stocking shelves with what looked like more mass-produced Halloween crap.

“Rose?” I asked her, pointing to the kittens.

“Hey, Sebastian,” she greeted. “Would you like to take a kitten home?”

“He has a cat,” Liam said. “High maintenance, very needy.”

“He’s not high maintenance,” I said of Robin, my fae puck friend who spent most of his life as a cat hiding out in my camping trailer. “Just moody.”

“Sounds like a normal cat to me,” Rose said. She directed Liam to a stack of boxes near the register. “Your stuff is there.”

“Is it safe to have black kittens on Halloween? Kind of like getting people a rabbit for Easter is a bad idea?” I stared at the babies, my heart aching to cuddle them.

People were evil. I’d read about it enough, and knew that black animals were the least adopted. But the four little beans in the cage didn’t look like minions of darkness. And the last thing I wanted was for those little babies to be hurt because they’d had the misfortune of being born the wrong color and wrong time of year. As a creole mutt myself, I knew how tough that path could be.

“I’ll only adopt them out to locals I know,” Rose said. “They are from the Hendrick’s farm out a ways. They thought they’d try here first before taking them to one of the bigger town’s Humane Societies. Barn cats don’t last long this far north. Cold sets in and hungry cougars come down from the mountain. Best to get them homes long before then.”

I reached between the slats of the cage and petted the nearest little black jelly bean. The baby mewed and head butted my hand. All four of the babies were suddenly swarming me for pets. Okay, so I was a sucker for small and fuzzy…

“They’ve had all their starter shots and the local vet has given them an all clear.” Rose made her way to my side. “I’m hoping that since everyone in town will be in here over the next twenty-four hours, we can get them all good homes.”

Kittens in a town full of werewolves. That sounded cruel. Did cats like werewolves? I knew some werewolves who owned dogs and horses, but never cats. Cats and the supernatural didn’t really mix well. They saw ghosts and seemed to irritate vampires. I’d never seen a fae with an actual cat, though they often used the form of them to blend in. Maybe the ancient Egyptians worshiped cats because they seemed to keep the supernatural at bay?

Liam loaded up the boxes onto the hand truck, and Dylan adjusted the strap. “I’d never let anything happen to the kittens,” Liam said.

“Right, because you are everywhere at once,” I said to him. Big bad alpha he might be, but champion of kittens?

“They are super cute,” Dylan said as he joined me in petting the munchkins.

“Maybe you and Sean should get one?” I said to him.

“I’m not sure Sean’s a cat person. He’s not really a dog person either.” Which was saying something since Sean was a human dating a werewolf and now knew his boyfriend turned fuzzy. Were they having trouble?

“We could bring them home with us,” I said to Liam. “They look like baby werewolves, if werewolves could have babies.”

“Very fitting for Halloween,” Rose pointed out.

“Neither of us is home enough to take care of four kittens. But I’ll send word around and see if we can get them adopted to good folk.”

I sighed, giving the babies one last scratch before following Liam out and back to the bakery. His decorations were very PG. Streamers, some hanging paper designs, and some soap-drawn art on the giant glass window.

“You can design something if you’d like,” Liam said.

I opened my mouth to protest, then closed it and shook my head.

“I heard the pot is around five grand this year,” Dylan said as he passed us with the hand truck filled with the boxes of supplies.

“Pot?” I frowned and watched him head to the back to unload.

“Visitors from the next town over fill Maple Falls each year for Halloween. They vote for the spookiest shop, and the winner takes home the prize. All the shops that want to enter contribute to the pot. It’s a pretty big deal, and one of our busiest days of the year.” Liam made his way behind the counter. Since it was late in the day, the shop was quiet, with only a handful of customers. Prep for the next morning had already begun. “Are you going to enter Tea Time?”

Tea Time was the tea shop next door, which was technically mine according to Liam, but I still battled with the idea that it was really his every day. “Five grand? Like a real five thousand dollars? For decorating?”

Liam smiled. “I see dollar signs in your eyes.”

“Five grand is a lot of money,” I said, in case he’d lost his mind and forgotten that money ruled the world.

“And technically, you’re rich,” he reminded me.

“You’re rich,” I corrected him. “I’m just dating the hot, rich guy.”

“Just dating…” Liam raised a brow. “Hmm. At least you called me hot.” He headed into the back.

“Don’t get mad,” I said.

“Not mad,” he called back, “irritated.”

“With me.”

“Hmm,” he replied. I hated that non-agreeing, agreement noise. Placating.

I followed him and grabbed him, wrapping my arms around Liam from behind and pressing my face between his shoulder blades. He stopped and sucked in a deep breath.

“Don’t be mad. Or irritated. I’m trying.” I couldn’t help the endless suspicion from circling in my head. But it didn’t mean I didn’t need him. Hell, I needed him desperately most days. So much so that I feared someday he’d find out and it would terrify him with its intensity. It terrified me thinking about ever having him walk away. If this was what having a true mate was… then the romance novels got it all wrong.

I likened needing Liam in my life to having air to breathe. Even when I wanted to spend time alone, I’d often drag him away so he could hold me for a while, and remind me he was still there. But how did I say all that without sounding stupid or scaring him away?

He let out a long sigh, turned, and wrapped me up in his arms. “What is mine is yours. Why is that hard to understand?”

Dreams weren’t supposed to smell like death.

The late fall, early winter, thunderstorms dropping buckets of rain, and shaking the house with thunder, were messing with my sleep. The few hours of sleep I got were broken up by night terror level adventures through ghoul infested forests. This time stench and all.

And wasn’t that an odd dream to have? Ghouls didn’t gather in forests. They found battlefields strewn with bodies, or graveyards full of fresh graves to sustain them. Unless a serial killer had moved into the forest and been adding bodies daily, the ghouls were out of place.

Each time I slept, I raced through a maze of trees, running in my sleep, hard enough that Liam, my mate, said my heart actually pounded and my breathing labored. He was getting as little sleep as I was, mostly because he tried to wake me when the dreams began. Which meant he was on high alert, even while sleeping himself.

Tonight’s dreams began the same. Only Liam had pack business to attend, so he hadn’t come to bed with me. Too exhausted to wait for him, and praying for a few hours of real rest, I’d taken myself to my camper which was parked several yards from Liam’s back door. Thinking that behind my wards, nestled in a space well-protected against most supernatural powers, maybe I’d sleep.

There were guards outside. I could feel them moving through the edges of the pack bonds. I was as safe and secure as I could be without Liam. I wasn’t certain my troubles were external. Something inside me had been awoken recently. A kitsune most called it, some sort of magical fox creature with powers no one quite understood. However, I thought of it more as a demon; reckless, destructive, and uncontrollable.

I spent hours trying to meditate, to focus and control the energy. A chance meeting with some sort of earth elemental had locked it away. But it seemed to be a cage of ice, in which it continued to fight and demand a way free. Maybe that’s where the nightmares came from? The creature’s desire to be free. But wasn’t it a part of me?

Twice that evening, I’d already been awakened by disturbing dreams, reaching for Liam, but only finding the tie between us. His wolf, more than the human side of him. On the edge of sleep, his wolf tucked around me, inside my head, and felt real. His giant presence covered me with the warm thickness of fur and an almost purring like hum of vibration. Liam found it helped me fall asleep if he wrapped his wolf presence around me. He was much better at this mate bond thing than I was. But the wolf vanished when I dreamed, leaving me alone, afraid, and very lost. Running, always running.

The third time sleep drew me down, I’d been focusing on the wolf. Imagining I was petting the thick dark fur of my mate and rolling his scent around me.

It began with comfort and that dark lull of unconsciousness that came fast and walloped with a hard hit of deep sleep. But something crept in. Cold and icy, sort of slithering on the edge of my senses. It tiptoed around, leaving a layer of sludge that felt thick and heavy. I even batted it away in my sleep, thinking maybe I was associating the blanket or the edge of my pillowcase with the odd sensation.

Although the sudden click in my brain that there might be a slug on me while I was in my camper had me jolting wide awake, swatting, and terrified. Yeah, I was kind of a baby when it came to slimy things. Snakes, slugs, fish, or the nasty wriggling selkies of a recent confrontation.

But I wasn’t in my camper, and the slime wasn’t from a bug. It was mud and rain. I landed back in the forest, on four fox paws rather than human feet. Not awake then, I thought. One of those dreams where I thought I woke up, but had only shifted forms.

And this time I was fox rather than kitsune; the tiny red fox most wouldn’t glance twice at, a predator, yet small. Alone again, I looked around for the wolf, but was battered by rain, like I’d gotten myself outside. I really hoped the nightmares hadn’t turned into sleepwalking.

The chill of the icy downpour made me shiver despite my thick coat of fur. It seemed to reach all the way inside, carving a frigid path echoing that ooze inside of me. It was an unnerving feeling I couldn’t shake. I tried to clear my head and focus.

The smell of rain deadened my senses to everything else, pounding down hard enough to almost hurt, but there was no shelter in sight. Trees too far apart, canopy above not thick enough, and no structures or fallen trunks to hide beneath. I started off slowly, even though my heart was already racing. Exploring cautiously, trying to rationalize the fear that filled my gut with apprehension.

Darkness and rain left the forest empty, or so it seemed. No darting squirrels or birds to sing. Everything hiding from the sheets of water pouring between the trees. Then I caught a whiff of something not kosher, a foul odor of stuff newly decayed and rotting; then a flash of white. Not like a sheet or any cloth, more the flash of graying, dead flesh weaving through the trees. Didn’t need to see the razor-sharp teeth and talons, to know what it was. A ghoul.

Fucking hell. Flashes of gray all around now, darting around the trees, like they were surrounding me. My heart sped up, and the fox reacted before my human brain could catch up. The animal part of me, even as much as everyone liked to believe I was always human in thought, acted like any animal would with the looming prospect of being cornered.

We ran.

It was a racing zip as always, familiar now after the endless nightmares. Like I was running, not away from them, but being pulled toward something. The fox assured me we were running away. Ghoul equaled death and not in a fun way. I let the fox have control.

The deluge of rain couldn’t muffle the chase now. The ghouls ripped through the woods behind me, nails in tree trunks sounding like an axe grinding through the wood, their snarls more guttural and wet, unlike any other animal I’d ever heard. The worst of the rain made it damn near impossible to see and the ground slick with mud. Several times I slid sideways, fumbling to keep my feet, twice running into a tree with enough speed and stinging force to spin me off track. The ghouls were catching up.

Ghouls didn’t normally have that sort of dexterity. The way they curved around trees, some even climbing up the sides to try to launch themselves from overhead, was unlike anything I’d seen them ever do in the past. Ghouls were ground creatures, living and breeding in the dirt, burrowing into the earth like the most terrifying moles you’d ever imagined.

The modern world caught glimpses of them from time to time, a snapshot on a security camera or a shaky camera phone. People named it ‘the Rake’. I’d seen enough of the real thing to know what the pictures captured a glimpse of. Had I ever encountered a pack of them this large?

No. Five maybe, but I could hear over a dozen of them. Maybe more. It was hard to tell from the rain and the echoing of the sound through the forest, even muted as it was.

One jumped into my path in a display of horrific, emaciated limbs, almost humanoid, but a face like something out of a tabloid with a shrieking ‘Bat Boy’ scrawled across the cover. I didn’t need moonlight to see teeth like a saw blade, or a break in the rain to smell the death on its breath lambasting me as it screamed and took a swipe.

I swerved, rolling low, under its reach and tumbling down the side of an embankment I hadn’t seen. The mud made it less graceful than I’d intended, and the second my paws touched the bottom, I burst forward again.

Blood pounded in my ears, becoming a distraction, and deafening me to their proximity. But I kept moving, sucking in air with labored breath and struggling to fill my overworked lungs. My side ached like someone had shoved a hot dagger into it. I didn’t have the stamina I used to. How was that possible when I hadn’t even been off the road all that long?

Again, I felt a tug of direction, shifting my aim a little to match, and realized I wasn’t running from the ghouls so much as they were chasing where I ran. What was I headed for? Why was I running in the opposite direction from home? Up a hill was not home, but I knew if I turned around, I’d be faced with ghouls, and a sense that I was going the wrong way. Was this a replay of what had happened only a few weeks prior? Some mesh of the Wild Hunt chasing me, turned ghouls?

What the hell?

Usually, I’d have woken by now. The pounding of my heart and labored breath would have had Liam shaking me awake. Or even one of the pack. But I was alone in the camper that no one but Robin had unlimited access to. Not even Liam. Would Robin wake me? I hadn’t seen him in the camper before I’d curled up to sleep. The fae puck in cat form often sat on top of the shelves, fridge, or even in my bed. Hard to miss so I didn’t think he’d been there.

A stark bit of fear rolled through me. What if I was stuck here, dreaming, until someone came? What if Liam couldn’t get in? What if Robin never returned from wherever he went?

None of this felt like a dream. The rain on my skin, a bit too real, fear nearly bursting my heart, and body strained beyond capacity. If it was a dream, it was a lethal one.

The hill suddenly ended in a sheer cliff and I tried to stop; sliding, limbs flailing. But the mud and rain weren’t having it. I slipped to the edge and over, nothing to grab at or even hook my tiny claws into.

Then I was falling. I somewhat expected it to last a while, like a lot of times in dreams, or do that abrupt wake-up jolt that happened sometimes when the world dropped out from under me in a dream. Only neither of those things happened.

First it was fast. One second I was falling, the next I was plunged into a river of some kind. Icy water rushed over my head. I tried to suck in air, but sputtered as a strong current pulled me down. The world spun, sort of as I imagined a washer might—swish-swash, swirl, roll—until I was unsure which way was up or down and was bursting with a need for air.

Black sparkles dotted my consciousness. Not my vision because I wasn’t even sure if my eyes were open. The surrounding water made it too hard to tell if it was real darkness or the back of my eyelids. Was that possible in a dream? To pass out while dreaming? Did that mean falling into another dream? Or something worse?

The rolling spin lifted me for half a second and I broke the surface, gasping for air, flailing like a mad thing, and was dragged back down by the current.

Twice more it happened, spun and dragged beneath the waves until bursting with a need for air, lifted briefly breaking the surface, and then I was slammed onto the bank. Walloped into a fallen tree with enough force to feel like it cracked a rib or two. The water rose again, not enough to pull me under, not as I gripped the tree, digging my claws in and clinging like my life depended on it.

It hurt to breathe, ribs aching, lungs stinging from being without air after running hard. It took me a few minutes to crawl up the side of the giant trunk, out of the water. Having never gotten this far in the dream before, I marveled at how incredibly real it felt. My fur was soaked with the icy dredges of the river; I couldn’t help but shiver.

A steep embankment beside the fallen tree appeared to be the only way out of the riverbed. At least I couldn’t hear the ghouls anymore and the rain had eased to a drizzle. I climbed up the narrow rock edge. Slick with water and mud, I slipped down the side of it twice before finding enough traction to pull myself to the top, where I lay panting, exhausted, wishing for sleep.

Was that possible in a dream? Odd that I hadn’t woken up yet. The strength of the smells. The sensation of cold and water on my skin. The pounding of my heart and strain of my lungs; all intensely real.

The area I rested on seemed to be a ledge of some kind. Part of the mountains perhaps? The river churned in a dizzying whirl below, overfilled from the constant rain, and deadly. I glanced back wondering how I’d survived it at all. But being stuck on a ledge wasn’t ideal either. I did not have the knife sharp claws of a werewolf and could not climb the side of a mountain like the comic book character Wolverine.

After a few minutes of rest and feeling weirdly like I had almost fallen asleep again, I forced myself to my feet and began to examine the ledge. There was a narrow path that led upward a bit. Wide enough that it could have been some sort of animal trail. Near the end of the trail there was an open area in the side of the rock wall, like a narrow cave opening, but more a shield from the rain.

I paused for a moment, catching the whiff of death again. Had the ghouls caught up?

But it wasn’t the ghouls. A scattering of bones littered the ground around the opening, mostly animal, deer, rabbit, a bird or two. Something’s den maybe?

I tried to scent around the rain again. Was there a bear? I couldn’t sense any sort of movement. Bears could be pretty still, but the alcove didn’t seem large enough for one. And the only odor I caught was of death, not even a recent death, more the musty smell of rot.

Nudging forward carefully, I pawed at the mud-loosened mess near the alcove trying to find footing. A tumble of bones rolled toward me forcing me to jump back. A moment of oh gross and an internal horror movie scream flashed through my head as it clattered to a stop at my feet. For a second the rain pounded at the muddy heap, washing away the dirt; then there were fangs.

My heart flipped over in terror. An echo of a memory rolled through me, and the fox wanted to run again, though we had nowhere to go. Part of a skull stared back at me. Some bits of fur and flesh still attached, keeping it in one piece, but not attached to a body at all. I remembered the fangs. Although those nightmares had faded a little. The skull was almost as large as my entire fox form. Not a werewolf. A Hunt wolf.

I tried to remember back to that day. As far as I could recall, their remains had been burned to ash. At least the ones we’d found. What would one be doing here? Most of them had gone through a portal I had opened to Underhill. Including Apa.

The thought made me pause. A horrific idea, that maybe this was Apa, curled around me. He hadn’t been completely transformed. The other wolves, converted by the magic of the fae into something monstrous. Not quite like the demon thing Apa could turn into. His demon seemed more like a giant bat, or emaciated vampire. While huge, black, more dog-like, and leaving ice trails in their wake, the Wild Hunt and my kitsune form had some similarities. Another unsettling thought.

I sucked in a deep breath, inhaling the smell of the creature’s rot. Not Apa. The scent underneath the bite of cold and bitter death was someone unfamiliar. Not Apa. A seed of hope awakened in my gut. Maybe he was still alive somewhere.

I crawled closer to the alcove, the sensation of ants creeping over my skin so abrupt, I leapt up and back trying to shake them off. But there were no ants. Only a faint ripple in the dark confines of the space along the cave wall. Not even a consistent one. Like some special effect from a sci-fi movie, it would wiggle and shift in one spot, then smooth over before finding another place; throughout the entire space of the alcove.

Those ants meant one thing, an open portal.

Did that mean Apa had come back through? Or that this portal was tethered to the land here? Were the other Hunt wolves back? Was I even dreaming anymore? I took a step toward the portal, wondering what would happen if I tried to cross. In a dream, would it drag me through for real?

Don’t even try it, I heard Liam’s voice loud and clear in my head. Not without me.

I’m dreaming, I told him, as if to explain I wasn’t really leaving him behind, just going where the dream led me.

No. He disagreed. Not a dream.

And I felt him closer now, as if he was physically crossing distance to get to me, our bond tightening. But I’d been dreaming, in the trailer, safe from everything, even surrounded by pack guards. Was I really outside now? How and when had that happened?

Light appeared overhead, the sloshing rain still making it hard to see. But a single flashlight appeared, then several more, and I could make out Liam leaning over the top of the cliff face, careful, but searching, until his gaze fell on me.

My heart flipped over as all the flashlights were suddenly aimed in my direction. Not a dream.

“Stay there,” Liam instructed, his voice half muffled in the rain. “I’ll find a way down.” Down the cliff edge, near the river that ran beside the mountain close to his home. How was that possible? I’d been sleeping.

I looked at the severed head lying a few feet away. A chill rolling through me as my mind recalled back. The wolf, the ghouls, that icy slug I could still feel nestled inside, and the portal? All real?

The lights above moved around, the group searching for a way down, Liam’s frustration at not finding an easy path tugging at me. Because he was close, I could feel him in my head. Worried. Needing to check that I was unhurt. He sensed the ache in my ribs and something more…the death at my feet.

It might be Apa. I thought again, not sure if I was really sharing the thought with him or not. But the idea that I might be standing among his remains, having unknowingly left him here to die, broke my heart. I backed away, careful to hug the cliff wall rather than fall back in the water. I curled up into a little ball to wait for my mate. The pain building inside me like a living thing. I lifted my muzzle to the sky and wailed.

Inever thought my lifetime of misfortune would lead to becoming a werewolf.

In theory, I knew what a werewolf was. Who didn’t watch movies, or read books, or watch some serial on Netflix? But that was fiction, until I learned it wasn’t.

The madness began with a breakup. Isaac had a lot of secrets, one of which was his wife of ten years. I thought that was the worst of it. It made sense; he was an attractive guy, muscles, a charming smile, money from a good paying job. He’d flirted with me the first day I started working at the only gas station in town.

Back living at my aunt’s after failing spectacularly in my attempt at college, there hadn’t been a lot of job options open. The gas station was easy. Late shift offered a pay bump, and I was a night owl anyway. He had walked in to fill his big SUV on his way back from the city. Looked like he was an accountant or something, as he was dressed nice in fitted slacks and a button-down.

I was a sucker for clean-cut, or anything, really. Affection and attention were the draw, no matter how I got it, which was how I’d gotten kicked out of college. I got caught sleeping with a professor. Since I knew a handful of people who slept around even more than I had, I attributed it all to my misfortune. After all, my mom had given me up at five years old, claiming I brought nothing but bad luck. My aunt took me in and her own long streak of bad luck began. I tried to apologize and help as much as I could, but the cloud of trouble remained. She’d done the best she could, given me attention and helped me through school, but as a nurse, she had worked a lot, and come home exhausted. The rest was all on me. Bad grades in high school, led to no real scholarship chances, which made community college sound like a good idea to get out of this tiny, middle of nowhere town. That hadn’t worked either, and I ended up back with my aunt, trying to make some sort of progress to being a responsible adult.

Then Isaac had stepped into my life. A whirlwind affair, him flirting, us fucking. I wasn’t the sort of queen who made a man work hard to get into my bed. I thought he liked me, had been on the verge of something with him. Like maybe we could be more than a fling? But I had gone into town to get bread from the bakery before heading home after an overnight shift, and ran into Isaac with the wife. He’d gotten uncomfortable fast. Introduced me as the guy who worked at the gas station. I didn’t even have a name at that moment.

Honestly, I shouldn’t have been mad. It was all par for the course, my life often derailing just as I thought something was going well.

The threat to my job had been unexpected. Isaac had shown up the following night at the station, after ignoring my texts and calls all day, threatening to get me fired if I said anything to anyone. His eyes were wild. I wondered how much of the man that I thought I knew was an act. Ending things now seemed like dodging a bullet, as he seemed more than a little unhinged. Three months of casual sex didn’t mean I owed him shit, but I had learned caution in my short, chaotic life.

“Okay, man,” I said, “No harm, no foul. No worries.” I wasn’t dumb, just sort of cursed. Since I was on the smaller side, and knew for a fact that Isaac had a crazy and almost, ha, supernatural physical strength, I tried to talk him down. “Not saying anything to anyone. But maybe it’s best if we call it quits, yeah? It was nice while it lasted, but I don’t want to mess with things with your wife. She seems like a nice lady.” Compliment and take the blame. That was the key to getting out of trouble. “You’re too good for me anyway, nice job, pretty wife, good family. I don’t want to interrupt all that.”

He breathed for a few minutes like he was having trouble understanding my words. Was he taking something? I’d never noticed, but again, mostly we fucked. Personal stuff not really on the table, and that was okay. I didn’t plan to stay in Maple Falls. The world beyond was bigger, easier to get lost in, and had plenty of hot guys and adventure. I just had to figure out a way to afford to escape this backwoods town and minimize my curse.

“You okay?” I asked him as he stood there breathing.

After a minute, he nodded. “A break, maybe?”

“Sure, if that’s what you want.”

He nodded like one of those bobblehead dolls, though I had no intention of ever seeing him again. Not a break, but a full break up. Goodbye, have a nice life type of thing.

“A break sounds good. She is a nice lady.” His words sounded very robotic, like he was trying to convince himself rather than me.

I gave him a smile, hoping it would get him moving out the door. The sex had been good, but not enough to put up with the obvious lack of control he had. “Great! Well, I’ll see you around, right? Have a good night.”

He stood there another long minute, and I worried he wouldn’t leave. It wasn’t even ten yet, and my shift didn’t end until five when the morning attendant came in. I’d be alone until then. If he went nuts, I could call the sheriff, but they would take a while to arrive. Plus, I suspected doing something like that would get me fired, since Isaac was a regular, and well-known in town. While I was sort of the troubled kid, back from screwing up at college, and most people only knew me from my few months of working at the gas station.

Finally, he shifted his weight from foot to foot for another minute, the sound of a car pulling into the gas station making him look out toward the lot. Then he nodded. “Take care of yourself, Toby,” he said, and walked out.

I thought it would be the last I saw of him and spent a minute admiring his nice ass and broad shoulders as he walked out. The new arrival called out a greeting to him as he passed to enter the convenience store. Everyone knew him by name. The town was small, and again, this was the only gas station.

“Hey, Toby,” Liam Ulrich greeted me as he headed toward the back. “Did you get eggs in? The grocery store is out, delivery delayed, and I need to make sure my morning crew is ready for prep.”

“Yeah, loaded the case,” I said. “Need me to help you get it all to the car?”

“Nah,” Liam said, waving at me. He was a nice-looking man, pretty almost, not as broad as Isaac, but something about him always made me pause. Liam didn’t look like he could mess someone up, but I got the feeling he could, a vague sense of don’t fuck with the pretty baker. He’d always been friendly enough, though I knew most of the town deferred to him for everything from planning festivals to housing developments. It was strange, more like he was a mob boss than some bakery owner. “You okay with me clearing the case?”

“Sure,” I agreed. “The boss doesn’t care as long as it’s paid for. Wouldn’t want you all to run out of eggs. I’m hoping to stop by your shop after work and grab some sweet bread. Aunt Jillian has been begging for it.”

He disappeared into the back for a moment to grab a box, knowing his way around the shop. “How’s Jillian doing? I heard she took a bit of a fall.”

Since she was nearly seventy, it was a big deal, but I didn’t think it was my fault. I hadn’t been home when it happened. “She’s okay. No break, just bruises. Has one of those bracelets now, linked to my phone, in case something happens.”

“Good thing she has you around to help,” he said, carefully stacking up the eggs.

“She’s been talking about moving to Tacoma to live with her daughter,” I admitted, depressed by the idea, as there wasn’t a place for me there. It had been her plan once I’d gone off to college. But I was still messing up her life as much as I was messing up my own.

“Might be better to be close to the city and a good size hospital,” Liam agreed. “Would you go with her? I can’t imagine working here is all that exciting for you.”

“Not really. I’m saving money. Think I might move south.”

“Jillian has been here for ages. Pillar of the town, really. We’d miss her, but I understand.” Liam gave me a warm smile. “Let me know if you need anything. Help with getting her anywhere, or a new place to work.”

He wasn’t flirting. I knew he had an ex-wife and a pre-teen daughter, but he came across to me as unavailable. A vibe most straight guys gave me, but also sort of sexless? I’d met a guy in college who identified as asexual, and he hadn’t really had a vibe either. It was like a lack of sexual presence, the absence of some sort of pheromones or something? I wasn’t about to ask Liam his preferences and chance that hidden dark strength pointing in my direction. I’d always had a very keen instinct that had yet to steer me wrong, even with my bad luck. My problem was that I rarely listened to it, and thought too often with my little head rather than my big one.

“Thanks,” I said as I rang up the massive haul of eggs. “Not sure I’m cut out for a bakery. I’m not an early morning sort of guy.”

“Or super early if you look at it that way,” Liam said.

I laughed. True. Never got to bed before eight in the morning. “Let me help you get these boxes loaded; not like I have a rush of other things to do.” He didn’t protest as we each carried a large box out to his SUV. I was glad to find Isaac gone, thankful he hadn’t hung around, waiting for Liam to leave so he could come back and bother me.

Once he had everything loaded, Liam waved goodbye, and I went back to the empty shop, my stack of books, and the set of tarot cards a friend had given me before leaving Bellingham. I had a bit of a knack for reading cards and was happy to find a few books in the local library that gave me more details on varied spreads and card meanings.

At least Maple Falls had a well-stocked library. Everyone donated books to it, and funds. It had outgrown its old building shortly before I left for college last year. Then they’d taken over the old community center, and now it was a sprawling spread of rooms. Tonight’s reads were all fiction. Some gay erotica, ‘cause who didn’t like some man on man action? But I had a few fantasy titles too. Was slowly making my way through the selection, and even gave them five dollars a week from my meager earnings to keep the library growing.

No one else came in. I pulled out my cards, frowning at the five-card spread giving me the death card. It meant change, not death, or at least rarely did it mean actual death, and I wasn’t opposed to change, but had no immediate plans for anything outside of the ordinary. I really hoped Isaac would not get me fired. Maybe I’d work at the bakery. Assuming Liam didn’t blackball me for screwing a married man. Sometimes folks got really weird about that, even though I hadn’t known. The town was small, but I also hadn’t been around in almost two years. Things didn’t normally change, but a lot had. I didn’t think it was because I was older now. The town had been dying for years, everyone fleeing to the city for jobs and to raise families. But Maple Falls was growing for the first time in over fifty years; because of the bakery, or something else? I tried to keep myself and my long history of bad luck away from them. No need to ruin the good thing they had going.

I picked up a book and read, getting lost in a story about a fae prince finding a mortal to love. Isaac didn’t return. A few folks stopped for gas, and two or three came in to stock up on overpriced junk food. Not a bad night overall, no mishaps, and I’d never once encountered someone trying to steal from the store. Maple Falls was a sort of nothing happens type of town. My bad luck ran rampant, but didn’t ruin the lives of everyone around me. Small-town folks seemed to roll with the punches better than big-city ones.

Hank arrived just before five in the morning. He was a big man in his fifties. No one ever bothered Hank. He was reliable and always patted me on the shoulder as he passed, like I was a good kid, as I heard many people say. They had no idea the trouble I caused, unintentional as it was. In school, it was things like friends getting caught cheating on tests, or a vending machine stopped working after they put their money in. Here at home, it had been Aunt Jillian’s furnace going out the day after I arrived, to the tune of a repair costing over four grand. She said it wasn’t my fault, but I knew better. Bad things happened around me.

Was it strange to wish to be normal when I was as boring as a man could be? Young, gay, somewhat smart, though I had trouble focusing, and was admittedly a little flaky. Living each day without worrying about what I would screw up would have been nice. I might enjoy reading about adventure, but my brief attempt at it in college had been a bust.

“Off to bed with you, pretty boy,” Hank said as I gathered up my stuff.

“Going to run to the bakery and get food first.”

“That bread is fantastic,” Hank said. “I should probably eat less of it.” He patted his gut, which only overhung his belt a little. Built like a tank, Hank had worked the overnight shift until I’d taken over, claiming he enjoyed sleeping regular hours now. “No trouble overnight?”

“Nah,” I said. “Is there ever?”

“Not in a while,” he said. “Not once the bakery moved in.”

It was an unusual comment, but I’d have to have been blind not to notice the change in the town since the bakery arrived. “Well, adding jobs keeps people happy and healthy.” The main street had really turned from a ghost town to a flourishing little town center after the bakery moved in, with other shops arriving, like the grocery, a small bookstore, and an antique shop. It had been unusual that Liam had chosen Maple Falls as a location at all, since he’d have had an easy hit in Bellingham. Folks drove all the way over from the city for his bread. Maybe he liked the small-town life.

“Jobs,” Hank nodded. “Always good, but I think it’s more about the management. Get going. I know you’re back for the overnight again.”

“Kiss, kiss,” I teased him as I swung on my jacket and shoved my hair out of the collar. It was getting long, touching the top of my shoulders, thick and blond. I needed to cut it, but hadn’t been awake during the day long enough to get to the barber.

“Brat,” Hank muttered as I made my way out the door, but his smile was broad.

My car was a decrepit thing, rusted, twenty-plus years old, with duct tape holding it together in some areas. It ran, mostly. Sean, over at the auto shop, kept it on the road, but often advised me it was going to crap out one of these days. A money pit with too much wrong with it to bother fixing. Oil changes and air filters could only keep the corpse on the road for so long. It was another thing holding me back.

I headed toward town, the lights of the main street close to the gas station, brightened the roads though everything was closed. The bakery opened at five thirty, usually with a line, but I made my way in and out fast, grabbing bread, waving at the crew, filling up my travel mug with coffee, and heading back to my car.

Aunt Jillian lived about twenty miles outside town. Lots of dark, narrow roads I’d been driving for years. The last dredges of winter lingered, and the sun wouldn’t be up till close to seven. I took the roads as I always did, half on autopilot, half alert. The coffee helped; the winding turns through stretches of trees did not. The familiar path lulled me into a sleepy daze. I’d had a few close encounters with deer on this road, a coyote or two, but tired as I was, coming down from the adrenaline of the prior day, and finding out Isaac had a wife and a bit of a crazy side, I was fading fast. The idea of getting home quickly and crawling into bed, was the only thing keeping me moving.

Bright lights rolled up close behind me. I hadn’t even heard it, but now some beast of a vehicle was shining their bright lights through my windows. Fuck. SUV? Truck? I couldn’t tell. I sped up a bit, even though the turns were tight, and prayed the asshole would get on their way. After over a mile of him dogging me, I moved over, into the opposite lane, and he jolted past.

“Asshole,” I said, watching the tank zoom off into the dark. Like he couldn’t have gone around if he were in such a hurry? And who hurried around here anyway? I pulled back into the right lane; grateful no one had been coming the other way. The roads weren’t big enough for horse play. One lane each way, zigzagging through trees, meant no shoulder, at least until it opened up into the highway.

I drove another five miles, almost home, and finally felt the tension ease from the encounter, stress keeping me vigilant for a while, but I didn’t see the eyes until it was too late.

It was a half second of glittering in the headlights, instinct to swerve and hit the brakes all at once. My car hadn’t been built for race car actions. It tipped, half spun, and slammed into a tree so hard I felt my bones break with a breath-stealing crack. I took a shuddering breath while pain ripped through me, my mind still in full panic even though the car had stopped moving. Something hot trickled down my forehead as the pale rays of the sunrise topped the trees.

I couldn’t move, but heard claws on pavement. Had a moment of fear slam through me as I glimpsed the eyes again. Not a deer or a coyote, but a giant ass wolf stalking across the narrow distance from the road to where the car had stopped. It hurt to breathe, everything fading, and I thought, that would be my bad luck. Survive a crash only to die eaten by wolves before anyone knew where I was? Maybe my death card draw actually meant death. At least I passed out before it happened. Small favors.

Nick

We knew the end was coming. Kiran told me to add as many books as I could to the bond between us, burning them into our shared memory, but also weakening him. I’d only taken the ones I thought most important, leaving things like the histories of royal lineages. I didn’t care who had fucked whom to get what prince or princess to be used as pawns. Most of the high fae were dead, or in the human realm, where we would be if I could open a door between worlds like Sebastian could.

The castle was little more than a single room these days, held up by Kiran’s waning strength and a child who had become a lure for the maddened remains of Underhill. Attacks came daily. Kiran could only do so much to hide our presence as the ghostly remains of Underhill sought to feast.

Before the last of the exterior had fallen, I’d been lost for a while. Going outside to breathe but finding myself screaming into the void, madness darkening everything within me as anger raged, seeking an option other than our inevitable death. I had lived a long time in Underhill. Some might have called it a good life, a long life, and welcomed death. Only I’d never had the chance to make some dreams reality. Mostly the ones that involved my bondmate and me, since the moment he bound me, he began to fade.

Liam spent every waking moment studying and practicing magic, trying to open a door to free us, but without the link to his mate, he hit wall after wall. I suspected the only thing keeping him sane was the child, living magic shaped into a tiny being.

Kiran had been the one to teach the babe to hide the power, which kept us safe, but as the child grew, sometimes the power raged like a beacon to the collapsing world around us. Kiran could not teach them how to open a door between worlds. He thought he might have once accidentally ripped a hole in the veil when he’d been young, but did not know how he’d done it, if it could be repeated, if it was something he’d done at all, or was simply misremembering from his long life.

Liam suspected that time had sped up in our world compared to the mortal realm, meaning that Sebastian wasn’t even awake in the other world yet. Their bond was stretched and sort of muted, as he said it did sometimes with unnatural sleep. Which sounded ominous. Had Sebastian been injured? And if so, how badly? Would he awake in time for us to escape, or sleep through the final collapse of Underhill? I tried not to dwell on the rising anxiety, though it rolled off everyone in waves. All except Kiran.

It was rare to see Kiran sitting in his chair, doing more than staring into the distance. Today the child, Ari, sat on his lap, snuggled tightly to my bondmate, as if he feared Kiran would take his last breath. It was a terror we shared, though I could feel Kiran’s strength. He’d burn himself out completely, waiting until the end. He had joked more than once that he should go devour some of Underhill’s remaining monsters to regain a nibble of strength. Even those were little more than a shadow of a memory now. Sometimes the ground would shake, but there would be nothing outside. And if Kiran took the last dregs of Underhill?

That would be a disaster.

Both because that was the little remains of this world holding around us, and each time Kiran fed on the fae, he further deteriorated. The blight, as Liam and I identified it, expanding as Underhill died. Would he survive its final collapse? How long could anyone feed on madness and remain whole? Which meant Kiran went hungry.

That sensation was a well of growing terror inside him. An actual churning abyss of heavy darkness, with a dozen wards and barriers within Kiran’s mind, keeping it confined. He knew it was there, likely felt it like daggers every moment of every day, but said nothing. Only sat with Ari on his lap, rocking the babe.

Liam had been frantic all morning. The walls were closing in. He could feel his bond with Sebastian opening, Sebastian finally waking in the other world, where time passed much slower. Liam thought he could use Sebastian’s kitsune magic to open a door between worlds. We would have one chance, and would have to move fast. I didn’t know what to expect, but we couldn’t carry anything but ourselves across the veil, and everything in this small dwelling was part of Kiran’s power. Anything left behind would be more of his strength lost.

Do you have a plan to gather the little that remains before we step through the doorway? I asked him, mind to mind, not wanting to scare anyone. The few remaining fae kept to the opposite side of the space as though fearing Kiran would eat them, even though he’d gone years touching none of them, no matter how much it weakened him and shrank our sanctuary.

It took him a moment to respond, his movements and thoughts slow, head turning my way, as though the question confused him. I crossed the room, picked up Ari, giving the child a kiss and a hug, then a little shove toward the opposite side of the room. “Go find papa.”

Ari hesitated, eyes glowing with power. “It’s almost time. Daddy is waking. I can feel him.”

“That’s why you need to go to your papa.”

The child didn’t move for another minute, focused on Kiran. “Uncle Kiran…”

Kiran gave the babe a slight but exhausted smile. “Listen to Uncle Nick. He’s strong and will keep you safe.”

Ari clenched tiny hands into fists and floundered as though trying to find words to say, but looked up at me instead. I patted the child on the head. “It’s okay. Go find papa. Get ready. Your daddy needs papa, right?”

Ari’s eyes filled with tears, but they flung themselves away toward the group gathering, and where Liam paced, a half dozen books spread open at his feet.

“Making babies cry,” Kiran grumbled, turning his gaze from the group and back to the wall. I had bundled him in every blanket we had left, many of them made by Liam or Ari’s magic, but it wasn’t enough. Human methods to a fae problem. His death couldn’t be prevented with fabric or heat. I wasn’t certain feeding him a dozen high court fae would help anymore. Not with the entire world closing down around our ears.

“Nick,” I heard Liam call, felt the shift in magic, and glanced back to see the door forming, the fae racing to line up for freedom. Kiran didn’t move.

I set my jaw in a firm line, the walls around us getting smaller by the moment. Without the rest of them, we’d have maybe a few more weeks, stuck in a room with barely the space to breathe. Not that Kiran was living a life, existing maybe, like a zombie, scarcely breathing for fear of taking an ounce more of magic than was necessary. I sat down at Kiran’s feet and put my head in his lap to rest. The door opened, and the fae rushed through. I hoped it went to the right place, though I could feel it like an old familiar ache in my bones. Whatever lay on the other side of that door was part of my past; it was okay to leave it there.

Kiran gasped, “Nick, you can’t.”

But there was absolutely no point in me going through that door. We were bound. Without him, I would die. It might not be right away, might even be long and slow, but it didn’t matter. He was my life. Had been for over two centuries. “I am not going through that door without you.”

“You’ll die here.”

“I’ll die either place I go. I’d rather be with you. Please come with me.”

“I’m a curse to everyone.”

He wasn’t. The fae used him in any way they could, draining energy and life from him until all that remained was this withering shell. “Then let them go.” I could feel Liam’s rising anxiety. He was holding the door, Ari’s hand grasped in his, but he said nothing, letting us make that decision.

“And it was you who made the baby cry. Ari thinks you’re going to die here.” I said.

“Temporary pain. The child is young, will forget this tiny portion of their life.”

“Losing both Uncle Kiran and Uncle Nick? That babe has known us their entire existence, will they forget so easily?” I asked. Was it too much to ask him to live for me? Whatever time we had left, he was mine. It didn’t matter where we were when the world collapsed on our heads.

Kiran sucked in a deep breath, and I looked up to see his gaze filled with tears, chest tight as he tried to breathe. “I’m not worth your sacrifice.”

“We will agree to disagree.”

“Are you coming?” Liam called. “I can’t hold it much longer, and Seb needs me…” I didn’t look back to see the strain, fear, or worry on his face. I could hear it in his voice.

Kiran pushed himself to his feet. He wouldn’t have the strength to cross a room anymore, the rot taking a lot of his mobility.

“You’ll come?” I asked.

He sighed. “I will do whatever you wish.” He said it like it didn’t matter, but I took those words for what they were, permission to take him to the other world, keep him, and give us more time. I wrapped the stash of blankets around him and lifted him, gathering the remaining strength of our tiny realm and shoving it into our bond as Liam led Ari through the door, holding it open for us. We were the last through, my heart racing in my chest as I clung to Kiran, praying the collapse of Underhill didn’t rip him from me when I shoved the last of the sanctuary magic into our bond.

I felt it crumbling behind us, the final pieces of magic torn away; it was like racing through time. The power slammed into the door as it closed, the portal cutting off that quest for power, and snuffing out the remains of Underhill like a dagger to the chest.

Kiran gasped, and the sensation slammed into me. Pain, loss, fear, and finally a void, like where Underhill had been, was nothing now. I struggled to hold Kiran and keep moving. He pressed more of his magic into our bond, his own strength fading. My grip on him tightened as I refused to let the magic take him from me in these last moments. On the other side, through the veil, and in the mortal world, other fae have survived. I needed Kiran to survive.

The portal between worlds was a flash of that dark chaos, a few steps and then an opening to a world that actually was nighttime. A battle raged around us, a house nearby, wolves everywhere, and some humans? Were they wolves in human form?

A young human female approached, and Liam guided Ari to her side, saying a few things I didn’t catch, before launching off in the direction he probably sensed Sebastian, as I set Kiran down. Kiran trembled, and felt like a glass doll in my arms, fragile and breakable. Even taking the last bits of our sanctuary back did little to ease his fade. He stood carefully on his own two feet, unsteady, and leaning heavily on me, gaze wary of our surroundings, a very different world than anything he remembered, and my memories of this place were tainted with pain and loss.

Organized chaos expanded around us. Definitely wolves in human form, I caught a glimpse of the glow of their beasts though Kiran’s eyes, clearing the area surrounding the house, gathering up remains of…vampires. I listened hard to learn a lot more about the world I’d been born to than I ever had before. The young girl was the alpha’s human daughter, and she kept Ari close. Most giving her wide berth as they knew who she was, but her tone became frantic as everyone ignored her while continuing with battle or cleanup.

Liam had vanished into the distance, off to save Sebastian with an army of wolves, and several years of heavy magic under his belt. I wasn’t at all worried about his safety. He had survived this world for centuries, and I’d been five when torn from it at the choice of death or escape into Underhill. I suspected it would take some time before I could learn how it worked.

“Can I help?” I asked the girl, unsure why she was upset. Worried about her father, or something else?

“Toby is hurt. He’s not healing. Carl wants to…but I won’t let him. I have the pack guarding him…but Carl is second…”

None of that made any sense to me, but Kiran moved, stepping, almost falling, but I steadied him. “If you will guide us?” he asked.

The girl nodded fast, racing around the side of the house. We followed slower with me keeping Kiran up, the scent of blood intensifying as well as the rank odor of something else…

Fae magic, Kiran muttered through the bond. I breathed in the scent, dark fae magic like I hadn’t smelled in years. How long since the last of the unseelie sidhe had vanished from Underhill? A century or more? We had thought for a time they’d all been devoured, but more likely were hiding in this world. That didn’t bode well for this world, or us if they came calling.

A wolf lay on its side, torn up like something I hadn’t recalled seeing in a living being, guts half spilled out the side of him, but the beast’s chest still rose and fell. Alive. Mostly. A dark swirl of energy seemed to roll around it. Did anyone else see it? No one reacted. There was another human wolf, male, near this small wolf’s head, stroking his ears and whispering soft words.

“It would be kinder to let him go,” a big man with an angry scowl said.

“You only want that because you did this,” the one touching him said.

“I wasn’t myself.”

Kiran knelt beside the wolf. “Hey, little wolf,” he whispered, running his fingers down the side of the wolf. The dark ooze stuck to him, and Kiran wadded it up, yanking it free as though it were a physical thing. I could feel him sucking in the energy, some of it usable, the rest he added to the raging mess of darkness behind his many barriers within.

The last of the energy peeled away with a pop, like it had been suctioned hard. Feeding on the wolf? Strange for fae magic to have any interest in a mortal creature. The wolf began to heal. Wound’s visibly knitting themselves as we watched. Slow, but better than the gaping wounds they’d been moments ago. The one touching him carefully pressed organs back inside, the power of the wolf fascinating at the sheer level of healing it could offer. That wound would have killed most anything I had encountered in my extended life.

I settled myself into the bond with Kiran, trying to feel what he felt when he examined the wolf. But he focused on healing. Something I didn’t know he could do. A shifting of energy really, but inside the wolf’s head there was a war waging. The wolf responded by growling, both inside his head and from strained lips.

“The wounds are healing. Slower than I would have expected from all my reading. Is this normal?” I asked the others, thinking that the amount of internal magic this wolf possessed should have healed it before the damage got this bad. The wolf was strong, and yet broken somehow. A bright wrapping of colors swirled around it in chaos, but none of the other wolves had the variety of color, or the storm of them.

“He should be healed already,” the growling male said, kept away by a handful of others and the alpha’s daughter. This small group cared for the injured wolf, that was clear with their gentle touches and the rising worry. He was healing, but it was at a creeping slowness in which he still seeped blood. I didn’t think it was good for any creature of this mortal world to bleed that much.

Kiran wasn’t looking at the mortal body. He was sinking beneath a weight of mental barriers, open because of the near fatal wound, and finding his way inside the wolf’s head. I rode along, remembering my first dream of him had been much the same. Me on the verge of starvation, but him coaxing me to him with the temptation of food, warmth, and safety. What could he offer the wolf? How would he know? Sometimes the magic of the fae was both fascinating and terrifying.

Inside the wolf’s head, a storm raged. But we floated through it, me holding tight to my bond with Kiran to ride along. We stood on the shore a moment, observing what appeared to be madness. Things existing side by side that didn’t seem possible: an ocean, distant shores swirling with wind whipping in tornados, endless muddy banks, and floating stones that somehow withstood the constant assault of the waves while the surrounding sand washed away.

The water rippled with glowing bubbles, faces, or even pieces of people. In some places it bubbled like lava, while others were frozen solid, and many spun in whirlpools containing chunks of things. Memories? Was this what insanity looked like? How did anyone live with this?

A wolf paced on one shore, a human lay on the other, not moving. Both shores grew narrower as the water raged, tearing away the sand.

Kiran analyzed the distance and the swirling madness of everything. No wonder the wolf couldn’t heal, he had been sundered from part of himself.

A conundrum, Kiran muttered, examining the area with glowing gold eyes. Why rest in such gloom, little wolf? He raised a hand, power forming a glowing ball of energy, though I sensed very little pulled from the reserves in our bond. Kiran began to reshape the landscape, filled with hurricane-like wind and tidal waves, to a forest with a calm pool. Adding layers of sand and silt over the top of the many rising memories that seemed to stir up the trouble within the wolf. Even pressing one particularly large whirlpool of sand together into a hard boulder that sat in the middle of the water, rising above it. He took more of those darkest floating bits and forced them together into stones as well, forming a sort of bridge of rocks.

The water finally stilled as the worst swirling parts became stones. The water barely brushing the sides of them, and no longer the churning waves of an uncrossable ocean.

They will eventually erode, and he’ll have to face them, Kiran told me.

Face them? Memories? The wolf raced across the boulders to the human form on the other side, throwing itself down over him, as though trying to act as a blanket. It was then I realized how cold everything was, possibly from the storm, or from the wounds as deep as they had been, or even the lingering edge of the spell cast by some unseelie sidhe. We needed to get him warmed up, speed the healing, and hopefully mend the tear in his soul. I didn’t know if any of it was possible, but if asked ten minutes ago, I wouldn’t have known Kiran could heal the wolf as much as he had.

Dreamwalking…learned from the best, or the worst if you look at it that way. A memory flickered through Kiran’s mind, a face that he remembered, that brought a lot of pain and memories with it. I knew the name that went to that face, but not all the backstory. Kiran had always been good about tucking away the worst of his past. Not all that unlike the wolf, I thought, though his memories had not become a chaotic mess of broken puzzle pieces like the wolf’s had.

I blinked, pulling myself free of the shifting chaos and back into the mortal world. “Let me carry him,” I offered to the others. His wounds were healing enough that I could pick him up without breaking him further. All the guts back on the inside were a plus, but I didn’t like how cold he was to the touch.

The girl nodded and pointed toward the house. I knelt and carefully lifted the wolf, adding heat to my touch to go with anything Kiran was doing in that mental space. Kiran always found the heat comforting, and that world of whirling wind and water had been freezing. How long had he lived there? Ice slowly chiseling away at his sanity? I could only barely recall those last days before I’d found Kiran, and how cold and hungry I’d been. This felt a thousand times worse. We had to get him warm and fed.

The girl led us into the house, Kiran clinging to my arm as we made our way to a small bedroom, and I set the wolf on the bed. The girl rushed away, promising water, food, and a first aid kit. Though I suspected few of those mortal things would help the wolf if he couldn’t heal this on his own.

I wrapped the blanket around him, rising only to settle Kiran on the other side, his eyes closing in exhaustion. He shouldn’t be using his waning strength for this, but neither of us tried to break away. There was something about the wolf, and I knew little of them and their kind, as the few stories that found their way to Underhill had mentioned the beasts of this world, but as Kiran continued to reshape and focus that chaos inside the wolf with the soothing and gentle brush of a painter, I fed bits to him from our remaining reserves of power.

Kiran turned to lay his head beside the wolf’s snout, sinking into sleep. It was actually the first time I’d ever seen him truly sleep. The years in Underhill had always been a battle. In the beginning, he hadn’t needed to rest, and in the end, it was a draining event just to breathe. But I understood the constant battle to keep a sanctuary around us exhausted him, and I prayed I was strong enough to hold us both to sanity while we learned to exist in this new world. I would have to feed him. The small bite of fae magic he took from the wolf wouldn’t be enough, and none of the fae that had gone through the doorway before us seemed near enough to track.

Would there be other fae monsters? Would they be different in this world? Less like monsters and more like people? Was there another way? Even in sleep, he held close to his glamour, hiding from everyone how far he had faded. Like those walls inside, keeping the darkness at bay, it was something he never let me touch, and rarely glimpse.

I didn’t sleep, letting my consciousness twine with Kiran’s, and looping with his thoughts about the wolf. Bent, but not broken, he told me. Both of them lay together looking like the world had ravaged them, and spit them back out. Wolf beaten and soul sundered, Kiran, a fae prince who’d been bound and fed upon until nothing remained but a shadow. Was I strong enough to protect them, help them heal and live in this new world? Since strength was the only thing I had, it was all I could offer. I kept up the warm pulse of heat, wishing I could build an actual fire, but surprised when the young girl reappeared with food that smelled unlike anything I could recall experiencing in my entire life.

“Hungry?” she asked me. “Ari says it’s been a long time since you had mortal food, so you should probably eat slowly. Start with soup?”

I sucked in a breath, afraid to leave the cocoon of warmth, but she folded two small legs out of the side of the tray and set it carefully in my lap. “I’ll bring more blankets and water. The bathroom is right there.” She pointed to an open door to the left. After gazing at me a moment longer, she turned and left the room and I stared at the plate, trying to make sense of the food and a lot of long faded memories from my childhood. A sandwich? Soup? A broth that smelled spicy?

I took a careful sip from the water bottle after figuring out how to get the cap off, surprised at how clean and fresh it tasted, not green or gritty like the few trickles we had left of real water in Underhill. The first bite of the sandwich shocked me, not only with flavors, but a punch of magic. I gasped as it whirled inside for a second, leaving me floundering, but as if on instinct, Kiran reached up with metaphysical fingers and pried it away. Devouring the magic like the starving being he was.

The food sat like a weight in my stomach for a moment, and I took another careful bite, observing his spin of the magic, his need for it frantic. I ate with slow calculation, pulling out the bits of magic, studying the weight and feel of them, and handing them to him. Some swirled within him, an edge of darkness floating, though eventually he tucked it away behind the barriers he’d been holding for as long as I knew him. I gasped as some of the dark rot faded from his face. The patchiness of his glamour easing to smooth lines of skin too pale to be his usual tone. Was this real? Could we heal Kiran here?

I devoured the rest of the food, not caring if it tore me up. Kiran never completely closed his mind to me, and I used the opportunity to dig into his memory, sorting the magic we’d been given, using some to heal him, more to fuel the bond and the heat of protection I could create, and cast the rest into the dark cage he hid, not sure what else to do with that mess.

Tears filled my vision until snot ran from my nose, and I just wanted to lay over the duo and cry. Hope wasn’t something I’d had in a long time. It almost hurt to have it back, and I feared someone would rip it away again.

His face looked peaceful in sleep, and the wolf shifted to a human form, scars forming where the many wounds had been. I traced my fingers over his skin, fascinated at how different everything in this world was, but draped myself over them, to add heat and protection as sleep dragged me down too, while I clung to hope with everything I had.

Finn

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting the vast expanse of the woods in an eerie glow. I adjusted my backpack as I got out of the car, glancing at Luke and Jason, friends and fellow ghost hunters. The rumors of a ghostly wolf prowling the woods drove me to arrange the trip, and tonight, I was desperate to find it.

“Want to do the intro now?” Luke asked.

I shook my head. “Tomorrow. If we find something. You got the gear?”

“I’m grabbing the night cam,” Jason said. He tugged on a pack of supplies and Luke picked up the pop-up tent.

“I’ve marked a few GPS points on our map. Let’s head for the first one,” I said. My phone had a half dozen apps that helped with our investigations. The actual audio and camera equipment had a habit of malfunctioning when I touched them, which meant I left that stuff to the guys.

“I’ve got audio,” Luke said. He tucked the spare battery block in his pocket. “Stay close,” he glared at me. “No running after shit, Finn.”

“No kidding,” Jason added. “Mr. I-Get-Lost-in-the-Grocery-Store.”

“I do not.” Well, sometimes. My phone was fully charged, and I opted for the regular camera as anything else would raise questions of legitimacy. “Let’s do this.”

We set off into the woods, the peaceful calm of them stretching high overhead easing my anxiety. The deeper we walked, the more shadows stretched into wells of overwhelming darkness. If I stared at them too long they moved, but then I’d blink and it would go back to being long shadows. I tried a few videos and Jason kept the camera going. Luke asked questions as he held an audio recorder out in front of him.

We’d been walking almost two hours when Jason asked, “Isn’t it weirdly quiet?”

We all froze. The crunch of leaves beneath our feet faded and with it every other sound.

“Is someone here with us?” Luke whispered.

I raised my phone and turned on the video, scanning the area in a wide arc, but nothing showed up on the feed. “Nothing.”

We stood in the silence for another few minutes. My gaze drawn to the far side of the area we stood. Was it getting darker? Night had set, but the headlamps the guys wore illuminated a couple dozen yards.

“Do you feel that?” Jason asked.

A chill filled the air, sharp, and biting. My breath puffed out in visible clouds, while my heart raced with both fear and anticipation. A flicker of movement caught my eye, and I lifted my phone, flipping on the video as I scanned the area. The height of the trees added layers of shadow and a cast of darkness around us, adding to the creepy sensation of being watched. If I stared too long at the shadows, I could almost feel them moving, slinking forward like some sort of dark ooze.

“I’ve never been more creeped out in my life,” Luke said.

“Me either,” Jason agreed.

I tiptoed toward the darkest of shadows, never one to be afraid of the dark.

“Fuck, Finn, why you gotta pick the spookiest of places?” Jason complained.

“You see something?” Luke asked.

I kept my phone focused on the dark. The closer I got the more I felt something lingered. “Nothing yet.” I gazed into the brush, crouching to focus. “Hello? Anyone there?”

A pair of glowing eyes appeared in the depths of the shadows and I gasped for air as if I’d been sucker punched. Jason and Luke yelped beside me, so I knew they saw it too. I tried to zoom the video in, still heading for the darkness.

“Stop, Finn. It could be a bear or something.”

“Bears don’t have glowing eyes, dumbass,” Luke griped.

The edges of it materialized as I got closer, still too far to capture a solid view of more than a hint of shadow and shape. Was it the ghost wolf?

I reached out a hand, wondering if I could get close enough to touch it. A shuddering icy cold pooled up from the ground around me, as though trying to stop my forward movement, and the glowing eyes suddenly lunged. We all screamed.

I flipped backward, half rolling as I found my feet and ran. We scattered, racing away with no real direction in mind. I clung to my phone, heart pounding, but tripped over something that sent me sprawling face first into a well of shadows.

My gut swirled and spiraled for a half second as though I’d fallen a thousand feet instead of a handful. I landed in a heap, on my back, staring up at the sky, trees overhead tinted with reds and golds in thick streams of moonlight. The scent of rain and freshly fallen leaves filled my senses and I sighed, heart slowing as the eerie sensation of being watched faded.

I got up and realized Luke and Jason were nowhere in sight. Neither was the crazy dark shadow wolf or unnatural movement of the darkness. The chill seeped away and aches arose in a dozen places. A skinned knee, a twinge in my back, something hot ran down my elbow and I suspected I’d been cut on something. But the chaotic and disturbing ambiance of the woods had vanished.

What the hell? I turned off the video and opened the GPS. No service.

“Guys?” I called. Which way had I come from?

My voice echoed, but beyond a fluttering of leaves on the wind, nothing else made a sound. Okay, that was a little creepy. I gazed upward trying to find the moon, but realizing there was sunlight. Had I been out long enough for it to be morning? The pale sky covered in clouds hovered above the trees, hiding the direction of the sun or any indication of which way I’d come.

Maybe that’s why I smelled rain? A storm coming? If I’d knocked myself out, shouldn’t I hurt more? Or maybe I was remembering wrong and it hadn’t been dark yet when we entered the woods. Forests could breed darkness as the canopies snuffed out anything above, so maybe that’s why I’d thought it was night.

I turned in a slow circle, trying to catch a sense of where I was, but it all looked the same, towering trees in every direction. And Jason had the pack of supplies.

“Fuck,” I cursed, checking my phone again, wandering a few feet and finding no matter which way I went, I had no service, and my battery was quickly running low. I watched back the video I took, wondering if the wolf really appeared, but there it was, plain as day, captured on my phone camera. “Stuck in the woods with no way to show the world. Debunk this, assholes!” I shouted as if someone could hear.

But my voice faded away, leaving me with nothing but silence, trees, and rising anxiety.

“What are you looking for?” Liam asked, hovering over where I sat on the floor of the back section of the bakery kitchen, surrounded by pots, pans, and baking molds. Everything pulled out from every cupboard within reach.

“The big purple three ring binder. The one with my collection of holiday recipes.”

“How would it be in the cupboards?”

“I don’t know, but I can’t find it anywhere.”

“When did you last see it?”

“Solstice?” I couldn’t remember, other than jotting down a pie recipe and adding it to the book before Christmas. Life had gotten pretty busy since then. Working in a bakery over the holiday season meant long hours and lots of running around.

“I’ll help you look if you help me fill and clear out the evening rush,” Liam offered.

I glanced up over the counter toward the front and saw a line backed out the door. “Fuck,” I cursed and jolted to my feet. “Sorry.”

“You’re fine,” Liam soothed as he passed by to grab a rack of cupcakes to refill the case. Two years in and the bakery had become a go-to destination for folks in the state. They’d drive up to our tiny town, order a couple dozen cupcakes, scones, or a heap of bread, then stop at the tea shop for a cup of something sweet for the drive home. All the activity meant our tiny town and Liam’s pack was growing.

Okay, my pack too, since I was omega mate to the alpha.

I headed to the front to greet people and snap on gloves and a hairnet. “Evening everyone! Thank you for stopping in.” I gave the words a vague push of power. The building frustration and tension of waiting in line vanished as everyone smiled back and waved. My presence could soothe even a feral beast as long as I myself was calm.

Ari appeared, dressed in a long skirt and oversized sweater that I knew was Korissa’s; their hair pulled back in two bright red pigtails, braided with little jeweled clips, and wearing a she/her pin.

“Can I help?” they asked. Ari, as a primordial being born from a glut of fae magic, didn’t have a set gender, and they slid back and forth effortlessly, one day to the next. Often straddling the line of what gender meant at all. It made sense, as gender was a mortal thing, defined by society in a thousand ways, and yet still had no real meaning outside group constructs. Not everyone liked it, nor did they have to, but both Liam and I were super protective of our kid, and determined to let them understand themselves as much as possible without the world dragging them down.

“Can you cut up some cupcakes and hand out samples?” Liam asked.

“Yes,” Ari agreed. They set up a tray and began to quarter the cupcakes Liam set aside for them as I filled the case. Today their physical appearance, as well as appearing feminine, looked more along the line of a preteen. Somedays they matched my age, and I struggled with that more than with the gender changes. We’d had Ari almost two years, and learned a lot along the way. They were far from a normal child, or a child at all, but I loved them as though they were my child. How could a creature capable of god-like power ever be a child? And yet they were mine.

Toby served as backup to the register, and two other consoles with iPads were busy. Liam took over filling the case, and I stepped up to box and bag orders.

“Are you taking Valentine preorders?” One of the locals asked. Cammy served as a social worker at a nearby veteran’s hospital, and often visited her list of vets with baked goods.

“We can,” I said. “The menu isn’t set yet. But we have a few specific cakes.” If I could find my holiday recipe book. January was usually a light month in sales as folks tried to limit their sugar intake, but Korissa had become an internet darling with videos about the amazing food and tea her two dads offered, so the added attention meant we hadn’t had downtime to set up the holiday menu, order supplies, and make samples.

“You’ll have some special cupcakes for the holiday, right?” Cammy asked.

“Of course,” Liam answered. If I could find my book…

I took her order for two dozen Valentine’s cupcakes, adding a half dozen gluten free, and a dozen cookies to the order, then handed off the slip to Toby to ring it up. With the first Valentine order taken, others added their own preorders. My heart leapt into my throat with anxiety as I didn’t know what we’d be serving yet.

“It will be fine,” Liam whispered to me. His lips brushed by my ear in a careful kiss. “They will love everything we make.”

Ari wandered through the crowd with a tray of cupcake bites, everyone smiling and nodding, thanking them. Kiran opened the door, with Nicky behind him, both waving to their third, Toby, who looked up with a smile as they entered.

“Hey, Peanut,” Kiran greeted Ari.

Ari beamed at Kiran. He had quickly become their favorite uncle, part because Wesley was still missing, and part because he doted on Ari, gifts of pretty flowers, colorful bugs, and lessons in magic. As long as Ari didn’t pick up on his grumpiness, I let them be. Liam watched them closer, worried about moral lessons, but Kiran had Nicky and Toby to balance his sometimes reckless behavior.

“Will you be ordering a special cake for Valentine’s Day?” Ari asked.

“He loves cake,” Nicky answered.

“Do we need an occasion for cake?” Kiran asked, his gaze on the filled bake case. Kiran could plow through a dozen cupcakes on his own, though he preferred the fruit flavored ones to the heavier chocolate or sugary cakes.

“Daddy says Valentine’s is a day to give the people you love sweet things to remind them you love them,” Ari said.

Liam glanced at me, and I shrugged. “They asked. I didn’t make the holiday up, and am not a fan. I tried to keep it simple.” And how did I explain to the magical creature that I was trying to raise that the holiday was meant to be romantic? “I’m not good at this being a dad thing.”

“Hmm,” Liam said, disagreeing without actually saying it. “We don’t need a holiday to give the people we love anything,” Liam said. “But more occasions to eat cake is never a bad thing.”

Toby laughed as he continued to ring up customers, and I filled boxes. “We have lemon cupcakes and strawberry cakes today. I made sure of it.” He always requested fruit flavored cakes on the days he worked. Ever aware of Kiran’s cravings. Nicky preferred carrot cake or any of the cookies but those were always a staple in the bake case.

Ari handed out more slices of cupcakes and wandered back through the crowd. “Anyone want to preorder for Valentine’s Day?” They asked. “Show the ones you love how special they are with a tasty treat.” I winced as customers flocked to Ari and they pulled a little note pad out of their apron.

“It will be fine,” Liam said again. We filled orders while I smiled at everyone to hide the panic of not being prepared for the coming holiday. I needed to find that damn book.