Beautifully Shattered: Shadowcrest Pack Series Book One Page 2

  A look of shock flashes across his features for just a moment before he composes himself, a look I almost miss. I surely would have; had I not been studying his expression closely. A trick my father taught me to convey when someone is hiding something, either by omission or all out lie. “Everyone has a tell,” he used to instruct me. Right now, Alastair is definitely hiding something, and I’d bet it has to do with my parents.

  “Riley, I already spoke with the Elders. We agreed I would take over the role of Alpha until after you turn 16,” Alastair explains. I know a look of shock was now plastered on my face.

  “Really? And who told you I wasn’t ready. I may be young, but my father has been grooming me for years to take over one day. This pack was everything to him and I’ll be damned if I let someone take that from his legacy,” I bark at him as I take a step forward, looking him in the eye, challenging him to say something. Which I might add, is not an easy feat considering at thirteen I am only 5’1 and he is well over 6’ tall, so he is easily more than a foot taller than I am. Intimidating much? Just a bit.

  We stare at each other, a silent challenge for dominance before I see the glint of amusement in his eye. He bows his head to me, not baring his neck but otherwise it’s a start. “I’ll inform the Elders.”

  “Thank you,” I state as I turn on my heel, giving him my back and heading out of the room. I will not show him fear or let anyone take this pack from me. I may be only 13 years old, but I’ll be damned if he is going to take what is rightfully mine.

  I sat with Grace for two hours while she cried into my lap. Nothing was said during that time, nothing needed to be said. I sat quietly, stroking her hair while she grieved. When it all became too much for her exhausted mind and she fell into a restless sleep, I tucked her in and made my way to the meeting hall.

  To say I am disappointed in the Elders is putting things mildly. They’re not too keen on my way of thinking, fucking Alastair. The smug smirk on his face tells me he knew this was how it would turn out. Asshats, all of them! To make matters worse they are assigning Alastair to not only be our alpha, but to be our guardian till I take over as alpha. What the fuck are they thinking, the guy gives me the creeps.

  The sound of a phone ringing pulls me from my memory. I reach over to the nightstand and grab it. Seeing it’s Sandra from the bar I answer with a reserved, “Hello?”

  “Hey Riley, it’s Sandra. I was just wondering if you were walking into work today. My car died and I didn’t want to walk alone.” The concern in her voice tells me just how terrified she is at the prospect of making that walk on her own.

  “Um, yeah. I usually do walk.”

  “Great, can I walk with you?” she asks hopefully.

  “Sure. I leave about 30 minutes before my shift starts. Just meet me here,” I reply, trying not to sound put out.

  “Got it, see you soon. Thanks, Riley. Oh hey, your birthday is coming up soon, isn’t it?” Gods, please don’t, please don’t.

  “I think so, yea.”

  “We should totally do something to celebrate,” she exclaims with just a tad too much excitement. Fuck, she did.

  “Yeah, okay. I got to go. See you in a little bit.”

  “Okay, bye,” she states as I disconnect the call while trying to take a deep breath.

  Fuck, my birthday. I hate birthdays. Thrown into another memory I’m harshly reminded why.

  On the night of my 16th birthday after helping Grace through another nightmare, which are becoming more frequent the older she gets; I change into a tank top and boyshorts and head to bed. I sink into my new silky sheets and inhale the fresh scent of lavender and woods. Drifting slowly into a soundless sleep while listening to the magnificent nature calls outside my window.

  I am woken by the sound of creaking hinges and my door opening and closing a moment later. Alastair must have just gotten home and is checking to make sure we are as well. Lying still on my side, facing my window, back to the door, I feel feather light touches brush the hair off my shoulder. I jerk over and look up into glowing crimson eyes hovering over me. “Alastair, what are you doing in here?” I balk.

  Alastair climbs on top of me, his legs bracketing mine pinning them together tightly, so he is looming over me. I hit at his shoulders trying to push him off. “Alastair, get the fuck off! What the hell are you thinking? Are you drunk?”

  He doesn't say a word as he gathers both of my wrists into one of his large, meaty hands and forces my arms above my head. He lowers his bulky frame slightly so some of his weight is pressing my body into the mattress, effectively pinning me in place. His nose skims along my jawline from my chin to my ear. I can feel the warmth of his breath on my skin as the sourness of his whiskey tickles my nose. It takes everything I have not to throw up all over him.

  Trying to wiggle one of my legs free to knee him in the balls, he locks his ankles around mine to fully pin my legs. He leans closer and sucks my lower lip into his mouth. Pulling back, he releases my lip with an audible pop. The grin on his face as he looks me in the eye freezes my blood and locks every muscle in my body. It’s feral and menacing. He whispers in my ear, “No one is taking the pack from me, Riley. There is one way I can guarantee I remain in control.” His wolf finishes that statement with a dominating growl that has my wolf shrinking back. Not in fear for herself but in fear for me if we were to push his wolf too far.

  The implication of his words seeps in, as pure adrenaline-filled terror floods my system. Gods no, he can’t mean…. “Y-You want to force a mate bond?” Now we are afraid. To force a mate bond would not only mean we could never leave Alastair but would also mean we could never bond with our true mate. Oh Gods, that also means he's going to…

  “Oh, darling, you WILL be my mate. You will respect and obey me like a good little bitch.”

  I scream as he bites down on my neck, fangs piercing my flesh. He draws his hand over my mouth and grits through his teeth in my ear, “Shut up you stupid bitch. If you wake your sister, she’ll be next.” He shifts his position so he’s looking down at me staring me in the eye. “Do you want that? Do you want to watch as I tie her to the bed and have my way with her? Ripping her apart as I slam into her over and over again? All while you are forced to sit by, watching and listening to her screams and cries of pain and sorrow, helpless to do anything.” His grin is feral and smug. “Would you enjoy that, my pet?”

  Breathing heavily through my nose, I shake my head no.

  “That’s a good girl. Will you behave now?” His thumb caresses from my jaw to my throat. “I’ll make this pleasurable, all you have to do is be a good little bitch.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and relax my hands. I hadn’t noticed I’d been fisting them so tightly, there crescent moon shaped cuts in my palms. Reluctantly, I nod my head and he releases my mouth and wrists. “That's my girl,” he purrs as he slides his hands down my body, his eyes trailing after. He runs his fingers over my collarbone and works his way to the hem of my shirt, kissing my exposed skin. Across my chest, down my arms, and along my waist. While he’s distracted, I reach over to my nightstand, feeling around for anything I can use against him. Finding a pencil, I fist it and quickly bring my hand back and hide it in under the pillow my head rests on. Sliding his hands under the hem of my shirt, he looks up at me with that disgusting smirk again. Not wanting his touch on me a moment longer, I make my move shoving the pencil into his right eye as deep as I can get it.

  The scream he releases is sweet music to my ears. He falls to his side, curling in on himself, writhing in pain on my bed. Without an ounce of remorse, I jump to my feet and am out my door and down the hall in less than a second. Grace is awake sitting up in her bed, hugging her knees to her chest, rocking with tears running down her face. “I’m sorry, I should have stopped him. I’m sorry, Riles.”

  “Gracey, everything is okay, but we have to run ...now!”

  Grace’s face is pale and ashy, as she slowly unfolds herself and gets to her feet. She grabs two bags from her un
der her bed and hands one to me. A quick peek inside reveals shoes, clothing, snacks, and cash. I give her a quizzical look asking her what this is. She shrugs her shoulders at me and states, “I had a dream a few months ago.”

  “Yeah, we’ll talk about these dreams of yours sometime but now is not the time. We have to move ... now, Gracey.”

  We are down the stairs and out the front door before Alastair can call for back-up. I grab Grace’s hand and we run until we can’t anymore. We end up crashing in a cave that happens to be on the border land of the Stormwater pack, led by their alpha Jimmy Manus, in Tweedsmuir South Provincial Park in Canada. While out on patrol Jimmy recognized the familiar scent of our father’s bloodline, not considering us a threat but rather as allies, he leads us back to his pack. After explaining what happened to our parents and how Alastair had plans of forcing the mate bond on me so he could retain leadership of our pack, he took us in and protected us. Hiding us from Alastair, going as far as sending us all the way to Vancouver for college. Jimmy became family to us, a father figure in many ways. For six years he provided a safe harbor, not only from Alastair but from the pain of all we lost. Until we lost him as well and were forced to find a way to keep moving on.

  Forcing my mind away from the heartbreak of losing not only my parents but a surrogate father figure as well, I struggle to keep it from leaping ahead another year. The year my current nightmare began.

  Sitting in my dining room with my sister on my left and our, yes our, wedding planner sitting across the table from us, we look over venues for our double reception. Since our parents passed I’ve never done anything in life without my sister by my side, why change now. However, when Grace suddenly falls from her chair, unresponsive, everything changes. Stage 3 liver cancer is what the doctor calls it. Neither pack healers nor mortal medicine can do anything to heal her. The confusion that comes with this is undeniable, shifters don’t get sick.

  “Gracey, how are you feeling today, babe?” I hold her hand as she lies in her hospital bed, as pale white as the sheets she’s lying on.

  “I’m good, Riles. What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to meet with the wedding planner today?” She won’t let me postpone the wedding for anything.

  “I rescheduled the meeting. Matt had to work, and I really wanted to come see you today. I spoke with your doctor on my way in. He said the cancer hasn’t progressed any further so that's good news.”

  “Riles, you know as well as I do that I’m not healing. It’s okay though, this isn’t the end for me. You have to have a little faith for me. Okay?”

  I can’t help the tears that fall as I squeeze her hand a little tighter. All the pain over the past losses combine with the fear of losing my sister. “I don’t know what you mean by that, Gracey, but I can’t give up. I am not ready to lose you. We’re supposed to have years of arguments and birthdays and holidays. It may sound selfish, but I want those years with you, Gracey. I need you to live, if not for you then for me. Please,” my voice breaks on the last words and tears are now streaming down my face.

  Grace opens her arms and I slide in next to her on the bed. I rest my head on her chest like she used to do to me when she would have one of her dreams. We hold each other tight as I cry for a while before Grace breaks the silence between us.

  “Riles, you are going to be okay when I’m gone considering I’ll still be here,” she places a finger on my temple, “and here,” a finger on my heart, “the world will not stop as a result of my body passing and I will not stop either. I have faith we will see each other again.”

  That evening, three months since her diagnosis, Grace’s body stops, and she’s gone. Four days later we would bury her beside our parents in secret so Alastair won’t notice us on the pack’s land. The next day we would bury an empty casket in Vancouver to keep up appearance A month after Grace’s passing, I found myself truly alone.

  Walking up to the front door of my Vancouver apartment I notice the door slightly ajar. I hesitantly push it open. Nothing, nothing at all. Stepping into the living room, I saw nothing. No furniture, no books, no lamps, no rug, just nothing. The living room is completely empty. Turning the corner toward the kitchen I notice it too is bare. I run down the hall to my bedroom to find my things scattered across the floor where they have been dumped out of the dresser and the dresser gone. On the floor next to my things is a folded piece of paper with my name on it. Dropping to my knees and picking it up with shaking fingers, I tentatively open it and read, “I don’t want to do this. I can’t do this. I don’t want to feel alone anymore. It’s time to say goodbye. Matt.”

  Jarred out of the past and into the present, I still sit in the middle of my bed with the pills in my hand. I throw a few in my mouth and swallow, feeling the instant relief that comes from knowing the numbing sensation that will soon follow. Later this evening, when the pain creeps back in, I’ll pop some more. It’s never really enough and I know I should stop. That I am running on borrowed time, slowly killing myself, but I just can't. Grace said something good was coming but I just can’t or won’t bring myself to believe it.

  Looking at the clock on my nightstand I see it's nearly three in the afternoon. Fuck, I mentally berate myself; I need to be at work in an hour. I flip back the covers and get started with my simple daily routine of shower, dress, work, try to die, repeat; sometimes I even throw in eating ... this is my life. Exciting!

  Chapter Three

  Riley

  Soft murmurs reach my ears, but I can't make out what they're saying.

  Where the hell am I?

  What the fuck happened?

  Attempting to turn my head is an epic fail. It feels as though a stampede of elephants has paraded across my head. I try to move my limbs but the connection to my brain doesn't seem to be working either. My arms feel like thousand-pound weights are strapped to them and I can't feel my legs at all. Forcing my eyes to peel open, my vision is blurry, and the room is dark. Even so, I can see I am not alone. A shadowy figure prowls toward me seemingly on all fours. A dog maybe? No, it's much too big to be a dog. Its eyes glow an ethereal azure blue and I know immediately in that moment this is a wolf, and not just any wolf but a shifter.

  "Shit, shit, shitshitshit," I whisper. My brain runs with thoughts of Alastair and the pack. Did they find me? Is he here? What's he going to do to me? My heart thunders in my chest and the throbbing in my head pounds harder as my pulse quickens. Black spots invade my vision as fear prickles the edge of my consciousness. Fight or flight adrenaline pumps through my body, but I'm frozen, unable to move. My mind swims and my eyes close.

  My eyes burn as the light filters through my lids. My limbs still feel heavy and achy, but I can move them again, so that's a thing. Memories flood my mind of a wolf; one I don’t know looking at me like I was his last meal. I try to jump to my feet only to fall flat on my ass.

  Fucking wonderful. I think to myself, shaking my head at myself for having all the grace of a depressed elephant.

  Snickers from the other side of the room catch my attention. Slowly I look over my shoulder, narrowing my eyes. Sitting in a seat by an open window is my boss, Cree Blackwood. Cree could be the poster boy for big bad bikers. He's 6'8 to my 5'8 with shoulder length silky brown hair that you just want to run your fingers through, not me of course. Liar, the voice inside my head taunts me. I roll my eyes at myself before they catch and track across the muscles that define his broad shoulders, down to his firm, well sculpted chest. Narrowing in on the valleys of his deliciously chiseled abs just begging to be nibbled. And, oh my Gods, that swoon worthy V. You know the one that points straight to the promise land. Oh yeah, that's the one. Not that I have ever thought about any of this before.

  Sure, Riley, you keep telling yourself that.

  I have been working for Cree for a little over two months and have never seen him without a shirt. Until now. My mouth is watering and I'm fairly sure my eyes are bugging out.

  Get a hold of yourself, Riley, he's your f
ucking boss for crying out loud. Fucking… now that is a thing.

  The clearing of a throat from the corner of the room snaps me out of the trance I've been in with Cree for what feels like an hour but was more likely only two minutes. The corners of his mouth curve up. Yep, I've been caught staring and he knows where my thoughts have been. Glancing around the small space, I find a chest-of-drawers, a single nightstand, a king size bed, and another man standing in the opposite corner from where Cree is sitting. That's when I realize I'm still sprawled on the floor beside the bed with legs as useless as a baby deer’s.

  Fucking greatness, can you make a bigger fool of yourself, Riley. Bracing against the bed I slowly work my way back up to sitting.

  “What’s going on? Where am I?” I ask, head in my hands as my head swims and throbs.

  “You’re at my place. I’ll tell you what happened in a minute but first I want Axel to check you out. Make sure you’re okay.” Cree’s no-nonsense personality showing strong. He pokes his head out the door and bellows, “Axel!”

  I wince at his volume before asking, “Who the hell is Axel?”

  “That, dear, would be me,” a rich soothing voice replies from the door. The man that goes along with said voice is stunning, I swear my heart skips a beat when our eyes meet. His eyes are narrow with a deep intense brown tone that is almost onyx in color. His skin tone is a warm rich espresso, hair just a bit darker brown than his eyes with a closely cropped cut. And his smile, oh that smile, it is panty melting. “How are you feeling, Riley?”

  I blink when I hear my name, “Huh?”

  Axel walks in the room and comes to sit on the bed next to me and takes my hand in his. A tingling sensation travels from where his hand connects with mine, up my arm and into my chest. He reaches for my neck with his other hand and when his fingertips make contact with my skin, I feel that tingling sensation again traveling from the point of contact right to the center of my chest. My heart rate and breathing quicken, creating a sense of euphoria that has my wolf stirring for the first time in a year.