Chapter 33

Thirty-Three

IZZY

T he next week passes in a daze.

I attempt to lose myself in my homework assignments—they have been piling up since I haven’t attended school in days—but my mind is a million miles away.

I can’t help but replay my conversation with Hale, Gerry, and Jake over and over in my head.

They knew my parents.

Befriended them, it sounds like.

My mom is dead.

And my fathers…

Hale and Gerry exchange an uneasy look at my question. So simple, yet the color drains from both of their faces.

“We can tell you.” Hale seems to be choosing his words very, very carefully. He steeples his hands together and leans forward to rest them on his bent knees. “But we think it’s something they’ll want to discuss with you themselves.”

“They know I’m here?” I’m ashamed to admit that my voice comes out higher pitched than I intended.

The pounding of my heart is almost deafening, drowning out all other noise.

“They do.” Gerry dips his chin in concession. “And they want to meet you. Introduce themselves. Maybe start a relationship with you. Is that something you’ll want?”

The obvious answer should be yes. But…

I’ve been without a family for years now. I’m not sure if it’s better or worse to know that there are people out there who may have loved me. Who may have taken me in, instead of allowing me to become lost in the system. Am I ready to know them? I’m not sure. My brain already threatened to implode from the sudden onslaught of information.

Wolves. Golem. Magic.

“You don’t need to answer right away,” Hale rushes to reassure me, his expression so painfully earnest that my stomach twists itself into a pretzel. “But when you’re ready, we can make the introductions.”

That conversation was days ago.

I still am not ready.

Not even close.

I sigh heavily as I stare at my reflection in the full-length mirror. I remember how excited I was to attend my first day of classes—my nerves intermixing with my exhilaration as I chose the perfect outfit.

Now I can’t find it in me to give a damn.

Depression is funny like that. It’s not entirely noticeable at first glance. You can adopt a smile, laugh at someone’s jokes, engage in conversation, but inside…you’re crying. Screaming for help. Extending a hand and just waiting for someone to grab it and haul you from the abyss. I never really understood why people call it the silent killer until now.

My life has changed so dramatically in the last few days, and it feels as if it’ll never go back to normal. Maybe I just need to accept that this is my new normal.

Magic.

Wolves.

Witches.

Mate bonds.

Golems.

I can’t even imagine how Jake feels. He returned home a few hours after he left and retreated to his room. I haven’t seen him since.

Lissa still isn’t talking to any of us. She’s furious that we had a “private conversation” without her and demands answers. A part of me thinks she deserves to know the truth. Another part doesn’t want her to live through this pain.

When I arrive at school—having chosen to walk instead of accepting a ride with one of the others—I probably look as shitty as I feel. I catch a reflection of myself in the mirror of a parked car and inwardly wince.

I haphazardly threw my hair in a braid, but a few strands have come loose, framing my face. I wear a T-shirt and jeans that aren’t particularly stylish but are super comfortable. And I need that comfort today. It’s my battle armor.

The hallway is still empty when I step inside, which is perfect for what I plan to do.

I veer to the right and then continue down the hall until I reach the main administrative office.

The secretary glances up from her computer and offers me a sweet smile. “How can I help you, dear?”

“I have a meeting with Mr. Montgomery,” I lie smoothly, shifting from foot to foot.

Her brows crease. “I don’t think he has any meet?—”

“It’s all right, Olive.” Christian Montgomery stands in the doorway of his office, dressed in dark pants and a form-fitting blue button-up.

Like every time I see him, my breath leaves my body in a whooshing exhale. He is just too handsome to be real, too ethereal to be human. How did I not suspect him to be something otherwordly when I first met him?

His stylish dark hair is longer on the top than the sides, giving him an almost boyish look. But that sharp jawline and piercing blue eyes tell an entirely different story. Those features belong to the devil himself. Stubble grazes his jawline, and an irrational part of me wants to run my fingers across it.

I instantly squash the ridiculous thought.

Bad, Izzy. Bad.

“I forgot to add Isabella to the schedule,” Mr. Montgomery continues, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Oh.” Olive appears flustered, a delicate blush crawling up her neck and creating a home in her cheeks.

I don’t blame her. He has that effect on me too.

“Of course. Go on in, Isabella.”

I give her a tiny smile and step into Mr. Montgomery’s office. He closes the door behind him with a soft click and then moves to sit behind his desk. He folds his hands together and eyes me carefully, his expression unreadable.

After a long moment, he says, “You haven’t been at school in a while.”

“I’ve been…”

Overwhelmed.

Grieving the life I once had.

Confused.

Fearful.

I don’t say any of that. I just allow my words to taper off, giving him the opportunity to fill in the blanks.

He just continues to stare at me, not speaking, his eyes assessing.

I wonder what he sees.

Does he notice the cracks in my armor?

Does he realize how close I am to breaking? Shattering? Losing pieces of myself entirely?

I can pretend to be okay all I want—frozen in this superficial tranquility—but I’ve never felt so out of sorts before. I feel as if I’m pinned beneath a microscope and Christian Montgomery is studying me through the glass lens.

“Is this about the explosion?” Concern darkens his eyes until the sea-blue resembles a tempest in the middle of the ocean.

“No. Yes. I don’t know.”

I don’t like to think about that either. I grieve Minnie—a girl I barely knew and wasn’t overly nice to me—but I also can’t help but think of the “what-ifs.”

What if I had gone to the theater first thing in the morning like I planned?

What if I’d been in that explosion?

What if…?

What if…?

What if…?

The police are still investigating it, which confuses me. If it was an accident, why would they be involved? Unless…

That’s one prospect that is too horrible to even consider.

“My… My foster parents told me some things the other day. Things that change everything,” I blurt out at last.

The crevice between Christian’s eyes deepens.

“What type of things?” he asks cautiously, leaning back in his chair.

“My mother was a witch, apparently, and my fathers were wolf shifters. Wolf shifters who are…who…” I can’t find the words. I really don’t know how to describe the shit show that has become my life.

Shock flickers across Christian’s face, chased away quickly by confusion. “But you’re human.”

“I don’t understand it either. I don’t understand any of it.” My eyes begin to burn with tears. I blink them away as fast as I can before Christian can see them. “And that’s not all.”

“Is this about my idiotic brother and his idiotic friends?” Christian asks warily.

“No.” Quickly, I recap what happened when I left the theater a week ago.

The men. The beast. I try to skim over some of the more…intimate details of that encounter, but I can tell I don’t do a good job of it when Christian’s eyes glaze over in anger.

He grinds his teeth together and places a fist on the table. “Those men hurt you?”

The words come out as almost a growl.

I snort. “They tried.”

My words only seem to exacerbate Christian’s anger. Fur bristles on his arms, and his teeth elongate, turning into sharp points. I should feel fear being face-to-face with a creature like Christian Montgomery—a monster so innately lethal I can feel the savage brutality emanating off of him in waves. But I’m not afraid.

I’m…aroused.

What is wrong with me?

I ignore my instinctive reaction—and pray to any god that is listening that Christian isn’t able to sense what his protective display is doing to me—and say, “I’m fine. I promise. They didn’t hurt me.”

Christian takes a deep breath, his broad chest shuddering with the movement, and lowers his gaze to the top of the desk. At first, I don’t understand what he’s looking at so intently, but then I realize it’s a crack bisecting the wood. He focuses on that one crack, on the way it curves around his papers, and works to modulate his breathing.

While he attempts to get himself under control, I do the exact same thing but for an entirely different reason.

What are you doing, Izzy? He’s your vice principal! This is wrong. You can’t be lusting after him like this. He’s probably your only source of information. He would be disgusted if he could hear your thoughts.

But he’s only a couple of years older than you, a sly voice in my head whispers, her voice a seductive purr. You’re eighteen. It’s not illegal.

Shut up.

Make me.

He could lose his job!

If he acts on it… the voice continues. There’s nothing wrong with admiring from a distance.

I internally shush both voices and return my attention to Christian. He has finally gotten himself under control and is staring directly at me with a quizzical expression on his face.

I shift uncomfortably. “What?”

Did he sense my arousal?

Smell it like they do in books?

God, I may just die.

“You fear us. Fear the supernatural world.”

I open my mouth to deny it but instantly snap it closed. His question lingers.

Do I fear them?

I didn’t think I did, but now I’m looking at everything in a whole new light.

“We’re not all beasts,” Christian says softly, then his gaze hardens. “Most of us aren’t.”

I wonder if he’s thinking of the monster from the alleyway.

“Do you know what that was? The thing that attacked those men?” I ask.

“I don’t,” Christian confesses, and he seems annoyed with the fact. He reminds me of Ansel in a lot of ways—there’s not a lot he doesn’t know. “But I can ask around. Do some digging. You haven’t seen it since that night?”

“No.” I shake my head.

I definitely would’ve noticed something like that.

“It could’ve just been a coincidence.” Christian doesn’t sound convinced by his own words. He absently scratches at the stubble on his jawline, dark enough to shadow his face. “But no more late-night walks for you.”

His tone turns firm. Commanding.

A shiver works its way through me.

“Yes, sir,” I say, only half sarcastic.

His eyes blaze amber, his nostrils flaring, before he immediately lowers his attention back to the desk. Back to the crack running through the wood. He takes a deep breath.

“You have to know that there’s no reason to fear us, Izzy. We may be different from you, but we’re not evil. We have families. Jobs. Goals.” He lifts his head and pierces me with a stare—a stare I feel all the way to the hollow of my bones, burrowing its way inside of me. I don’t respond to his statement, but he continues on anyway. “Why don’t you attend a barbecue we’re having this weekend?”

His words shock me into silence. It takes me a solid ten seconds to regain the function of my brain cells.

“What?”

“A bunch of packs are meeting up and having a barbecue,” Christian says. A tiny smirk dances on his lips—probably in response to my incredulity. “I think you should come. Introduce yourself. Talk to the packs. See that we’re not so different from you.”

“I…um…” I want to say no. With everything going on, this doesn’t seem like the time to have a damn party.

But isn’t Christian right? Shouldn’t I give this world a chance? I’m a part of it, after all, and the longer I bury my head in the sand, the sooner I’ll suffocate.

So instead of saying no, I blurt out, “You have a pack?”

Christian’s expression hardens. Turns unreadable. “No.”

“No?”

Didn’t he mention something about that before? I rack my brain.

“No,” he repeats with a decisive head shake.

I want to ask a follow-up question, but one glance into his steely-blue eyes stops me.

“Am I allowed to attend if I’m human?” I tentatively ask.

“Of course. Hale and Gerry will be there,” Christian says. “As will a few others that you know.”

“Oh.” I lick my lips. They have suddenly turned unbearably dry. “And…Ashton, Reid, Ethan, and Emery?”

“They’ll be there too.” A dark grin tugs up the corners of Christian’s lips. “But wouldn’t it be sweet revenge to show up on the arm of some other man?”

I almost bite off my own tongue. “Some other man?” My heart beats too loudly. I’m positive he can hear it. “As in…you?”

His smile simply widens.

Fuck, he’s so beautiful, it almost hurts to look directly at him. I imagine it’s a similar sensation to staring up at the sun and praying you don’t go blind.

“Who else would it be?”

“Wouldn’t you get in trouble?” I squeak, even as a tiny voice in the back of my head whispers, Yes. Yes. Yes.

And then Christian Montgomery shocks the shit out of me when he winks. Actually winks.

I almost fall out of my chair in shock, even as lust blossoms in the pit of my stomach, blooming like a flower exposed to sunlight.

“What the school board doesn’t know won’t hurt them. Don’t you agree?”