Chapter 1
Chapter 1
RILEY
“What the hellis wrong with you?” Grace scolds, and not for the first time, mind you. Her natural blonde hair takes on a reddish hue from the glow of the neon light outside my window, almost as though her anger had set it alight.
We’ve been doing this same song and dance for the last year. I know it’s not really Grace—seeing as she’s dead and all—I buried her cancer-filled body just over two years ago in an unmarked grave alongside our parents. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know this. I know this is all just a dream; my subconscious giving me another moment with my baby sister. But I don’t care, I need these little moments with her, even if it’s just her showing up to scold me on the errors of my wicked ways, just like tonight.
“Well, I’m waiting, Riley.” Yep, just like that, my sister is back as though she never left, and I can breathe again. I can almost forget about the last two years of popping pills, binge drinking anything with alcohol, and emotionless sex just to numb the pain. I can just—be.
“Riley Wright, are you listening to me?” Grace barks.
“You want to know what’s wrong with me? Well, I don’t know, Grace. Maybe I’m just tired of being alone all the time,” I say with a little too much snark, frustration hitting its boiling point and spilling over. The fact that she just doesn’t fucking get it … doesn’t see how hard this all is.
The loneliness and agony that cuts deeper and deeper every fucking day I’m on my own, clawing its way to the very core of my soul. Bleeding me dry and leaving me hollow inside. A shell of the girl I used to be.
“So, what, the solution to loneliness now is to just off yourself? That’s real smart, Riley.” She breathes a heavy sigh and walks over to take a seat next to me on my lumpy mattress. But it’s better than the threadbare ones I used to sleep on. She places a hand on my knee and leans in closer until I meet her eyes. “Riley, you can’t keep doing this. It won’t bring you peace or comfort. It may bring you temporary relief from your suffering, numb the pain, as you say, but when the drugs and alcohol wear off, you’re right back where you started. Wouldn’t you rather be able to move forward, away from the pain instead of drowning in it every day?"
Exasperated and tired, I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh. How do I make everyone understand?
I meet Grace’s amethyst gaze. “Easier said than done, Gracey. Mom and Dad are dead, most likely murdered—not that we’ll ever get answers. Jimmy—you remember him, the man who loved us like his own daughters—well, he’s dead. You are fucking dead. And to put a fucking sweet ass cherry on top of this shit sundae, Matt up and fucking left, too—one fucking month after we put you in the godsdamn ground, Grace.”
I stand and pace the small space that makes up my bedroom. My long stride eating the distance from wall to wall in only five steps before I have to spin around and do it again. “He fucking promised me he wasn’t going anywhere. That he’d be here to help me process and get through losing you. But guess what?” I throw my hands in the air and let them slap my thighs as they come back down. “He lied. Oh, and he fucking left me with nothing, except my clothes. Hallelujah for that small blessing, I guess. The point is, I am fucking alone, Grace, and it hurts too fucking much. What am I supposed to fucking do? It’s not like I can go back home. I don’t fucking have one to go back to. The packs are not fucking home anymore. What would you have me fucking do?”
Grace looks at me, shakes her head, and smiles. “You need a swear jar in here, Riles.”
I give her an unamused look, and she pats the bed beside her. Reluctantly, I take a seat.
She takes a deep breath and continues, “Riley, you need to listen to me. For the first time in your life, really listen to me. You are meant for so much more. You’re an alpha for crying out loud. You were born to lead and inspire. The painful moments of your past will heal if you allow them, or you can let them continue to tear you apart. That would be sad, too, because I have it on good authority that some really, really good things are coming your way. And by good, I mean hot as sin.” She mimes fanning herself to prove the point, and I roll my eyes at her antics. “But you have to stop. You’re killing yourself a little more every day; and your wolf can’t keep healing you, she’s not strong enough.”
My brows pinch together in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“Your relationship with your wolf has been strained for a while. The emotional disconnect has been weakening her, and every time you overdose to numb the pain, you drain her more. You need to build that connection again. You need to remember who you are, who you’re meant to be, and become one with your wolf again. It’s not too late to make it better, Riles.
“Do you remember when we were kids, and I used to get so frustrated with myself because I couldn’t shift like the other kids in the packs? You used to tell me something, what was it?”
“Keep your head up, kiddo, tomorrow will be better,” I mumble, twisting my fingers in the blankets.
“That’s it. Keep your head up, Riley. Tomorrow will get better if you want it to.”
I offer her a sad smile, and she places her hand on my knee.
“I’m going to give you the most important two pieces of advice a sister can give. First—and pardon my language with these—get your head out of your ass. Secondly.… Wake. The. Fuck. Up.”
Jolting upright, my hand flies to my chest. My heart pounds a staccato rhythm, vibrating against the confines of its boney cage, and threatening to break free. I shake my head in hopes of clearing some of the hazy fog left behind and take a deep breath.
My gaze jumps around the dark room, and it takes me a moment to recognize where I am. I drop my hand, and it’s then I realize I’m sitting in a pool of sweat and shaking like a junkie jonesing for their next fix. Probably because I am.
That’s right, I’m a junkie, an addict, and I own it. Don’t judge me.
“Grace,” I whisper into the dark, my voice weak and shaky as tears run down my cheek.
Godsdammit.It has not been long enough between tears. The pain in my chest snaps at the chains I’ve wrapped around its box, attempting to break free as I give myself just one more tear. Only one. One tear. One moment to grieve before I’m sucked into the pit of despair that I can’t pull myself out of again.
I reach over into my nightstand and pluck out a small bottle filled with various pills. Grace told me to stop, but I can’t. I don’t want to. Stopping means feeling, and feeling means overwhelming torture that I don’t know how to handle.
A pile of pills rattle into my open hand, and I try not to drop them as my frayed nerves send bolts of electricity racing through my system in waves of pain and need, causing my entire body to shake with the force. Studying the different sizes, shapes, and colors, Grace’s words replay in my mind, it will get better … it will get better … only, it really won’t, not with a past I can’t face.
Echoes of wind passing through tree branches and the howling of wolves in the distance reverberate off my walls. That can’t be right.I’m inside. In the city. A heavy weight settles on my palm, and the pills in my hand blur into one murky cloud. My hand drops to my lap. The room around me fades, and spots of black dance around my vision as I hurtle into the darkest of memories.