20. Twenty

twenty

T he banishment wasn’t surprising. It was his truly callous demeanor that stunned me. For whatever reason, he’d believed this woman his true soulmate just minutes before. Now he’d discarded her like trash in a landfill. Even for Finneus, it was despicable.

In a show of empathy I hadn’t anticipated, Malia rushed forward and wrapped Belinda in a fierce hug. Finneus spun, ire contorting his features.

“Find. My. Mate!” he roared at Malia, waving my mother’s necklace in the air.

Her lips curled back. “You need to pay for this one first.”

Finneus’s rage echoed through the pack. The wolves around me turned restless and edgy with the dark fury of their alpha. Belinda’s parents leapt from their seats in the back row on the opposite side of the aisle. They shoved their way forward, but the trio of strays rushed over to block their path.

A warm hand slid around the back of my neck. His breath tickled my neck as Penn leaned down and whispered in my ear. “You’re leaving. Now.”

I didn’t move, my focus glued to Malia and Belinda. What did the caster mean about payment? The Ophiuchus coffers ran deep, not to mention the collection of jewels we had amassed over the years. Why hadn’t he already settled his debt with the magic user?

The caster still embraced the ill-fated bride, who’d stopped crying. From my vantage, I could only see Malia’s face. Her eyes rolled up so only the whites were visible. An inner luminescence rippled beneath her skin, setting her aglow like a firefly.

It was bizarre and beautiful and terrifying. I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

Penn’s arm snaked around my waist as he yanked the chair out from behind me. He pulled me tightly against his chest, his mouth still hovering just behind my ear. “Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder.”

I turned my head to look at Penn and jabbed a finger in the air toward Malia. “Why does she look like that?”

Penn didn’t take his eyes off me. “The caster isn’t my concern.”

Belinda’s knees buckled, and Malia squeezed her tighter. Mrs. Ridgemore screamed and then started shrieking, calling her a dark witch. Strays in the crowd wolfed out and rushed to form a line at the front, creating a blockade and preventing anyone from getting close to Finneus, Belinda, or Malia.

The old woman grabbed my hand. “Go with the boy,” she insisted, bringing her face close to mine and squeezing my fingers with a surprisingly firm grip. “There are no heroes tonight. Only fools too stupid to realize it.”

Something in my demeanor must have changed because Penn felt comfortable enough to let my waist go and settle for an iron grip on my hand. He dragged me through the crowd, away from the action. I stole glances over my shoulder, both terrified and desperate to understand.

Malia licked her lips and shoved Belinda’s limp body to the ground. No color remained in her cheeks. Her lips were ashen. Eyes stared unblinkingly toward the sky.

I tried to yank free from Penn, but he refused to let me go.

“We need to go back. Penn, please,” I begged. “Belinda needs help.”

He ignored my pleas, shouldering through a group of men shoving each other like they were in a mosh pit. More strays blocked the path back toward the village. Penn kept me behind him, his much larger frame hiding me from their glowing eyes.

Behind me, I still heard Mrs. Ridgemore’s wail echoing off the stone face of the mountain. I spared another glance over my shoulder but couldn’t see anything beyond the unruly pack members.

“Move, Racon,” Penn snapped to a scraggly fawn-colored wolf.

The man shifted. In human form, he wore his sandy hair in a man bun and had thick, unkempt facial hair. He was an inch or so taller than Penn’s six feet, four inches, but he was thinner, with considerably less muscle mass.

“Where are you taking the girl?” Racon demanded.

Penn looked him up and down, his hand tightening painfully around mine. “That’s my business.”

I couldn’t see his face, though I felt his calm, steady heartbeat. Something in Penn’s expression must have said more because the guard laughed and moved aside, gesturing for us to pass.

Racon’s small, round eyes studied me. “I don’t see why everyone is so heated over some stuck-up little rich bitch.”

Penn’s free hand darted out to grab the stray’s throat. He dug his fingers into the other man’s windpipe and squeezed. Racon’s eyes bulged in his face. He smacked Penn’s arm, which didn’t relent. Other strays snarled when they noticed the altercation, their paws digging at the ground.

Racon’s face turned red and then purple as he hunched into himself, dirty fingernails scraping at Penn’s hand. Just when I thought he might lose consciousness, Penn shoved him backward into the snow. Then, he straightened his jacket and pulled me to his side.

No one else tried to stop us, though Racon’s buddies didn’t exactly part to make our exit easier. I felt one wolf’s hot breath on my leg as we slid past and staunched the urge to kick him. Penn said nothing, not even to me.

Freezing wind gusted through the trees, but the heat of his anger could’ve started a forest fire. My own temper simmered. I yanked out of his hold and stopped in the middle of the path. Penn didn’t fight me this time.

“Tell me what’s going on,” I demanded. “What happened to Belinda?”

Penn sighed and didn’t sugarcoat the truth. “Malia drained her.”

My mouth hung open, and I could only stare at him in disbelief. My father’s reign had been peaceful, just like his father’s before him. Violence was a part of our world, but the ugliness hadn’t touched our pack until now.

“Did you know?” I asked, my voice unnaturally low and thick.

Penn took a step closer to me. “That Finn planned to pay the caster with Belinda’s magic?” He shook his head. “No.” He moved within reach but didn’t try to touch me. “Did I know she wasn’t his true mate?” Pure gold irises bored into me. “Yes.”

My breaths came out in white puffs between us. “You knew, best-case scenario, she would be exiled… And you went along with the charade?”

His jaw worked back and forth. He leaned in, eyes flashing with rare, unbridled emotion. My wolf stirred in response to his anger. I should have been scared, especially after I’d watched him nearly kill another stray because of me.

“Let me be clear, Drake.” His voice still had the edge from earlier with Racon. “I will let Finn play out his fantasy for as long as it doesn’t involve you. Do you understand?”

My hand shot out before I thought it through. A resounding crack echoed in the silence when my palm connected with his cheek. He captured my wrist in his hand and gently tugged me against his chest.

“Belinda is dead,” I hissed.

Penn’s lips almost brushed mine but not quite. My nipples tightened against the lace of my bra, the fabric deliciously rough against my sensitive skin. His nostrils flared at the scent of arousal in the air.

“You’re alive,” he growled.

Kiss me , I thought.

Penn straightened and backed away, leaving a cold, empty space between us. He turned and started walking, though he didn’t go far before breaking off the path.

“Where are you going?” I demanded.

He lifted an eyebrow. “ We’re going somewhere you’ll be safe for the night. Until tensions die down.”

Reluctantly, I followed him. Penn took one look at my heels and shook his head.

“Shift. You’ll break an ankle in those.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and dug my nails into my palms, swallowing the urge to scream.

“I love these shoes,” I muttered after a minute, even as I slipped them off my feet. “And this dress.”

What a ridiculous concern, I thought, feeling a rush of shame. Who cared about clothes and shoes when a girl had lost her life? Maybe I really was just a spoiled bitch, like Racon said.

My brain struggled to grasp this newest level of despair for my pack.

Calloused hands landed on my shoulders, spinning me so my back faced Penn. He undid the satin buttons and slid the straps from my shoulders. Champagne fabric pooled at my hips. I could’ve undressed myself the rest of the way, but Penn unhooked my strapless bra, and I went with it.

In the dark, bitter night, my dream refused to stay in the shadows of my mind. My cheeks flamed a deeper shade of scarlet with each flash.

Penn slowly uncurled the lace from around my chest. His thumbs skimmed my back, my sides, and then the bottom curve of my breasts. He folded the bra and stuffed it in his pocket.

“Do you want more help?” he asked.

I bit my lip. This would lead nowhere good.

Still, I whispered my response. “Yes.”

Penn’s hands were on my hips, tugging the dress fabric until it slid free. Rough palms skimmed the outside of my thighs. Everywhere he touched heated to match the inferno blazing at my core. He crouched and held the fabric so I could step out of it, then folded the dress over his arm and peered up me.

The anger was gone, but his eyes still glowed gold. “Do you like those panties?”

I nodded, voice squeaking when I spoke. “They match the bra.”

Penn filled his lungs, sighed, and stood. “Then I suggest you remove them yourself.”

He turned away from me and removed his clothes with more haste, folding all the formal wear in a neat stack. I crossed my arms over my bare breasts and watched him with an indignant glare. The muscles covering his broad shoulders rippled. His firm ass bunched and bounced when he walked.

Penn stuffed our clothes in a hole in a tree, then scraped his hand down the bark hard enough to draw blood, leaving his scent so we could find it again later. He turned to face me, confident as he slowly moved closer in all his naked, aroused glory.

“You want me,” I said, sounding very accusatory.

Penn shrugged. “I never said I didn’t.”

“So, what’s the problem?” I demanded.

His liquid metallic gaze never left my face. It was just like the dream; except he didn’t make me come to him. “You’re used to getting what you want. Maybe it’s time to focus on what you deserve.”

I threw my hands in the air. “What does that even mean?”

His body tensed and embers of his anger returned. “You’re not a girl who gets fucked against a tree.”

My own temper flared, and I couldn’t believe the words that came out of my mouth. “Maybe I’m a woman who wants to get fucked against a tree.”

Penn shook his head and shifted, ending the argument. I slid out of my underwear and marched over to throw them in the tree with the rest of our stuff. Then, I dropped into a crouch and let the magic take over.

“Stay close,” Penn said inside my head. “We aren’t going far, but there might be strays around.”

“Where are we going?” I asked, navigating the ravine easily on all fours.

“To pay respects before it’s too late.”

For a second, I thought he was taking me to see Belinda’s body. I still had the image of her lifeless eyes tattooed on my brain. Except, we had left her behind, up the mountain. Then, I recognized our surroundings. It had been an exceptionally long time since I’d last come here.

Penn must have intended to take me to the cave all along. That was why we hadn’t encountered any pack members on the path, something that hadn’t occurred to me until now.

My feelings toward him softened. We were going to see my father.

The entrance to the Gold Cave lay at the base of the Mirror Cliffs, at the edge of a sparkling alpine lake. It was also directly below where Finneus’ true mates ceremony failed and Belinda lost her life. During the warmer months, there were stones cutting across the edge of the lake that led to the mouth of the cave. In the winter, snow and ice covered the path and made the route more treacherous—in human form, anyway.

On four feet, I should not have hesitated to follow Penn onto the frozen lake. I couldn’t have said what stopped me, but I halted immediately. My stomach flipped, and a sense of foreboding came over me.

“What’s wrong?” Penn asked, gold eyes scanning the area for strays.

“Are you sure about the ice?” I asked.

“Positive,” he replied.

I remembered Evera saying her mother saw Penn at the Gold Cave in the middle of the night. He’d made the journey numerous times without issue.

“I promise, Drake. It will hold.”

I slid one paw onto the ice. When nothing catastrophic happened, I tested a second foot. Finally, I took a step forward and put my full weight on the frozen surface. The uneasy chill lifted, and I realized how ridiculous I’d been to hesitate. Even if the ice broke, I was at the edge of the lake, close enough to the side to not worry about drowning.

Penn didn’t make fun of me as I scampered to join him. Together we crossed the ice to the cave’s entrance. My heartbeat thundered in my ears. Dad had been dead a week. Tonight should be his last in the cave. Normally, a pack burial would come next, but Finneus would never allow that.

The walls shimmered gold, even in the pale moonlight. Ancient fae symbols covered the walls—a prayer to Gaia that was supposed to aid the deceased’s spirit with passing on. I hoped that was true.

Penn’s paws no longer clicked on the ice beside mine.

“I’ll be right out here. There are robes inside if you want to shift.”

I didn’t turn. If I didn’t keep moving forward, I would lose my nerve. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see my father because I very much did. But once I said goodbye to him, there was no more pretending this nightmare wasn’t real. I would have to accept my new reality, and I wasn’t ready to call Finneus alpha.

Only a coward would run right now , I told myself, every step forward a personal triumph. I reached the chamber and stood in the entranceway while I gathered the courage to take the final steps.

My father lay on the same altar where my grandfather had laid before him. Moonlight streamed down from above, casting a soft, regal glow over his body. Something gold on Dad’s head glinted.

I shifted and entered the chamber on two feet, darting toward the altar. Even though I was unsure what I expected, what I found surprised me.

Someone had dressed my father in a white and gold ceremonial outfit with a high, stiff neck. A green blanket with the Ophiuchus symbol covered him to the waist, and his hands were folded on top of one another. The same plain gold wedding band he’d worn my whole life encircled his ring finger.

Finally, I let my gaze travel to his face. His eyes were closed. His expression was peaceful, and I could almost believe he was only sleeping. Then I made the mistake of touching his hand. It was so cold.

The waterworks came fast and furious. I tried to hold the sobs inside, afraid letting them out would break me in ways that couldn’t be fixed with a magic tonic. My shoulders shook with silent cries. I squeezed my father’s large hand between both of mine and leaned over his body.

Tears dripped from my chin onto his pristine white coat. The ache in my chest made it hard to breathe. Air refused to reach my lungs. I squeezed my eyes shut and clapped a hand to my mouth as my racking sobs grew desperate to be heard.

He entered the cave quickly and silently. Something soft and warm wrapped around my shaking shoulders. Large fingers peeled my hand from my mouth.

“Let it out,” Penn urged.

The floodgates truly broke. My shrieking wails bounced off the walls and echoed down the cave as I ugly cried. Penn gathered me in his arms. I turned into him and sobbed against his chest. He stroked my hair and said nothing.

An eternity could’ve passed, and I would have neither known nor cared. I cried for my father as well as myself. It was selfish, but I felt entitled to the despair. My world had shattered into a million pieces, and I would never find all the shards. My identity centered around being his daughter.

Without my father, who was I?

At some point, the overwhelming grief turned to anger. There was so much my father left unsaid. So much left for him to teach me. He should have prepared me for this situation instead of indulging me. He’d always told me to stand strong in the face of adversity, but he’d never shown me how.

A fresh wave of tears soaked through the soft material covering Penn’s chest. I grabbed the lapels of his robe and screamed against him until my throat turned raw. He rubbed his thumb down the nape of my neck and hugged me tighter.

Sobs turned to whimpers before eventually dying off completely. Penn pulled the robe he’d draped around me tighter on my shoulders. His hands moved to cup the sides of my neck, thumbs tilting my chin up to look at him.

“Ask me,” Penn demanded.

I blinked up at him, tears still clinging to my lashes.

“Ask me what you really want to know.” His jaw hardened. “Ask me if I helped kill Basil.”