Pack of Secrets, page 16
She made it sound like the lamp of a Djinn or something. Did I rub it and get three wishes? I wanted to believe my aunt was trying to protect my interests, but all of my instincts told me she was lying. The question was, why?
“What do you want me to do with it?” I asked.
She looked me over, taking in my clothes, daggers, and the backpack still dangling from one arm. “Set it on the ground gently, and remove your bag, weapons, and clothing.”
I lowered the cup and stood, the rest of her instructions sinking in. My gaze swept to the alpha and Mackiel before settling back on my aunt. “You want me to undress?” In front of them? went unsaid. For most shifters, nudity was no big deal. Customarily, everyone else shed their clothes lest they destroy them during the change. Since I couldn't shift, there was no reason for me to ever get naked in front of anyone. I’d never told my aunt I was insecure about my body, but she had to know I didn’t run around stripping like the rest of the shifters.
“Is that really necessary?” the alpha asked, and at that moment, I could have hugged him.
I didn’t—I wouldn’t—but I could have.
The look she gave my father made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Some sort of non-verbal communication passed between them, and the anger rolled off the alpha.
“We don’t want anything hindering her wolf from breaking free now, do we, Chaz?” Sereana asked.
My father’s jaw ticked as he continued to stare her down. Tension built until the air around us crackled with it. Mackiel’s gaze met mine, and his eyes widened with concern. This was insane. If my father and aunt fought, I wasn’t sure any of us would survive. Guarding my stupid body insecurities wasn’t worth a magical death match. Setting my backpack aside, I toed off my shoes and said, “It’s fine, Alpha, I can do this. If Aunt Sereana’s concerned that clothing might restrict my wolf, I’ll remove it. I don’t want to screw anything up.”
Dad looked like he wanted to argue, but I was already undressing.
Sereana tilted her head toward me. “Thank you, Grace. That’s very mature of you.”
“And unnecessary,” the alpha added, barely loud enough for me to hear. Mouth tightening into a hard line, he took a giant step back and settled in, folding his arms across his chest. Mackiel joined him. Turning my back on the males, I faced the Sound and removed my socks.
At least the view was lovely. A Ferris wheel once stood on Pier 57, but it had toppled over when I was a child, causing one hell of a ruckus. Beyond the piers, moonlight reflected off rolling water like a pale, glimmering line that led to the dark silhouette of Bainbridge Island. Tugging off my shirt and sports bra, I tossed both aside and let my mind wander about the sort of people or creatures that lived on the island. It was easier than focusing on my increasing discomfort with this situation. I unzipped my pants and tugged them and my underwear down, adding both to the growing pile of clothing. Cool, salty air brushed over my exposed flesh, and I suppressed a shudder while forcing myself to stand tall and not fidget. Sereana's gaze swept over my body, and I wanted to cross my arms over my breasts and hide. But I didn’t. I was a shifter, dammit, and determined to be comfortable in my nudity. Hopefully, tonight we’d release my wolf. Then I’d spend a lot more time naked in front of pack mates. Might as well get used to it now.
She plucked a small spray bottle from the fanny pack around her waist, dropped into a squat, and started spritzing my feet. The unexpected bite of icy liquid made me wince, but I held still. My body adjusted to the cold, drawing heat from my wolf. Sereana sprayed her way up my legs. The scent was an odd mixture of chamomile, peppermint, and cannabis. Probably meant to calm me to aid the transition. Interesting. Once my entire body was dewy, she exchanged the spray bottle for a vial and extended it toward me.
“Take this,” she said. When I did, she stepped back. “Good. I’ll give you directions as soon as I finish.”
I had so many questions, but I managed to swallow them back and watch as Sereana pulled a thick stick of chalk out of her fanny pack and drew a circle around me. It was large, giving me about four feet of space in each direction. Outside the circle, she added a pentagram with a few loops and embellishments I’d never seen her use before. Pricking her finger on the edge of her machete, she sealed the complicated design with blood. My eardrums popped, and the calming scents she’d sprayed over my body intensified. I could no longer smell the alpha or Mackiel, so I turned to ensure they were still there. My friend looked worried, but my father did not.
Finished, Sereana stood and eyed her work. “Can you hear me?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. Uncork the potion and pour every drop into the Chalice of Power.”
I froze, staring at my aunt. She wasn’t the first person I’d heard use that title. The guardian had called it the Chalice of Power. Had Sereana known it was a cup all along? If so, why hadn’t she told me when she’d sent me after it? More importantly, if the guardian was right about the title, what else was he right about?
“You are the broken beast. I cannot allow you to unravel the thread.”
What did that even mean? Why the hell couldn’t people be more specific with their warnings? Frustration made me want to tear my hair out, but my hands were tied. I couldn’t ask questions about my interaction with the guardian. Especially not with the alpha watching me with the merest hint of pride in his eyes.
So, I did as I was told. Careful to stay well away from the chalk circle, I kneeled on the ground and uncorked the vial. The coppery scent of blood made my stomach sink. Had she drained another rat to make this? Ugh. I didn’t want to think about that. And I shouldn’t. I was a wolf. A predator. I’d be expected to tear prey apart with my bare teeth once I shifted. A little rodent blood shouldn’t make me want to vomit. Still, bile rose in my throat as I poured the blood into the cup. I tried to ignore it and focus on the other scents coming from the potion. Hounds-tongue tangled with the earthy odor of mushrooms, the tangy bite of blackberries, and something else I couldn’t place. The consistency was thicker than milk but thinner than yogurt. At least I wouldn’t have to chew it.
Gross.
Determined to stop psyching myself out and focus on the task at hand, I set aside the empty vial, scooped up the chalice, and stood, watching my aunt. She owned several spell books, but I’d never seen her use one for a casting. Today was no different. She needed no visual instructions as she broke into the ancient tongue of the Tricari, chanting and waving her arms in exaggerated circles as if bringing ether into her. The storm in her grey eyes broke, and they glowed silver. Carmel-colored locks whipped around her face in a gust of wind that only seemed to affect her immediate area. None of the surrounding plants stirred. My father and Mackiel stood precisely as they had before, watching us.
Sereana’s magic crested, and she jerked forward, falling to her knees with a bone-rattling thud. It had to hurt, but she didn’t cry out. Instead, her hands flew to the spot she’d sealed with blood, and she resumed chanting. At first, nothing happened. I stared at my aunt, waiting as she channeled ether. The scent of burnt ozone hit me at the same time my feet began to tingle. Looking down, I was surprised I couldn’t see the magic because it felt condensed and concentrated as it circled up my ankles, over my calves and shins, to my knees. Pulsing with power, it slid over my exposed flesh. More magic than I’d ever felt before swept up my thighs and hamstrings to my groin, butt, hips, and waist. The pulsing deepened, turning to constant pressure as magic consumed me. Hands, arms, back, breasts, it climbed, overwhelming my essence with ether. I could no longer feel where I ended, and the magic began. We were one. A heart that no longer felt familiar hammered in a chest that had grown too tight.
“Drink!” Sereana’s voice thundered through the chaos, sounding miles away. “Drink, Grace!”
The chalice was at my lips before I even registered her command. Liquid sloshed and lukewarm blood and herbs filled my mouth. My gorge rose, but I forced myself to gag every ounce down. The potion served as a catalyst, altering the magic that had consumed me. No, activating it. It swirled and stormed within me, making my entire body swell and contract with its power.
Hands still settled over the chalk outline, Sereana chanted again. More magic swelled around and in me until I felt like a teapot about to blow. It was too much. Too intense. I needed to let it out, but I couldn’t. Not until I freed my wolf. I gasped for breath and swallowed back bile. My stomach churned. I was going to be sick. No matter how I tried to hold it in, the tickle at the back of my throat intensified until I had no choice but to open my mouth.
I didn’t vomit.
Instead, words came out.
“Look past the old land out to the sea and find the island of paradise, gifted by God but seized from sinful man. Follow the canyon of stone that burns to lime. There, you will find what you seek at the heart of life birthed from the blood of two brothers.”
My mouth slammed shut, finally obeying me as all remaining energy fled from my body. The ground tumbled over itself, and everything went black.
Arioch
I stared at the scrying orb, unable to take my eyes off the little wolf. She was nude, and it was a struggle to keep my gaze on her face and not the swell of her breasts, the perfect curves of her hips, or the inviting patch of curls between her thighs. The man she called Mack watched her backside with a combination of concern and interest, making me want to rip every bone from his body. The bastard had been flirting with her all day, and while Chip’s romantic life should not concern me, it did. It very much did.
Not Chip, Grace, I corrected myself. Such an absurd name for a malevolent beast.
Her eyes glowed like the sun as magic filled her. I braced, wondering what to expect. I had been given little information about the artifact, but ‘You must destroy the broken beast before it unravels the curtain between life and death’ had a decidedly ominous ring.
Only when Grace used the Chalice of Power nothing happened.
At least nothing happened to me. She rambled off some sort of riddled directions and collapsed.
“Chip!” Mack shouted, lunging forward. His concern grated on my nerves as I watched her chest to make sure it still rose and fell.
The alpha threw out an arm to stop the lovesick little puppy. “Do not interfere.”
“Is she okay?” the younger male asked.
She had to be. The little wolf had survived an encounter with me; a mere spell would not take her out. Still, I leaned forward, awaiting the alpha’s response. Not because I cared whether Grace lived or died, but because I needed answers only she could provide. And then I needed to kill her to break the curse.
Ironic, yes, but nothing about this situation was forthright.
“She lives,” the witch announced.
Tension eased from my shoulders, and I cracked my neck.
“But she didn’t shift,” Mack said, sounding confused. “I thought she was supposed to shift.”
“No.” The alpha’s gaze flickered to the witch. “There appears to be another step.”
“The chalice demands a price.” Sereana bent and smudged a line of the chalk pentagram before wiping it away completely. Then she started on the next line. “Grace will need to retrieve something.”
Understanding shone in Mack’s eyes. “The heart of life birthed from the blood of two brothers. What is that?”
I glanced at Catori, wondering if my guardian knew the answer, but her attention remained focused on the orb. Not wanting her to miss any crucial details, I kept my thoughts to myself. I was still struggling to understand how Grace had used the artifact without any real consequences. Nothing had noticeably changed, and the chalice kept buzzing in the back of my head. It all felt so damn anticlimactic.
“I don’t know,” the alpha said.
With the pentagram broken, the witch started on the circle. “Nor do I, but I will find out.” She paused long enough to eye the alpha. Those two were up to something. I would bet my sword arm on it. “This was good, Chaz. We’re making progress. How soon can you assemble a team and supplies to accompany Grace on her quest?”
“How soon can you figure out where we need to go?” the alpha fired back.
“She’s not even conscious!” Mack complained, gesturing wildly at Grace’s prone form and growing increasingly distraught. “You want to send her out on some quest? Won’t she need to rest? To recover from whatever this was?”
“Watch your tone, boy.” The witch’s eyes hardened. “I am not in the habit of explaining myself.” To the alpha, she added, “Control your wolf before I do.”
The challenge in her tone made the predator within me stir. If she had used that tone on me, she would be frozen next to my gargoyle doorstop. The alpha didn’t seem inclined to react, however. Instead, he gripped Mack’s shoulders, turning the younger male until the two were eye to eye. “You need to chill the feck out, Mackiel.”
Now I knew another true name. Mackiel wilted under the scrutiny of his alpha.
“Grace is my responsibility, not yours. Not yet, and not ever if you don’t remember your place. You really wanna help her, take her home, and put her to bed.” The alpha removed a key from the ring attached to his belt and tossed it to Mackiel.
Confusion filled Mackiel’s eyes as he accepted the key. “Your… house key?”
The alpha shook his head. “The house is unlocked. That key will get you into the mess hall. Hash is running with the pack tonight, and I don’t want to wait until morning to prepare for our trip. Go into the pantry and bag up the jerky on the third shelf to the left. All of it.”
Mackiel started to say something, but the alpha interrupted him. “You think I can’t damn well handle Hash?” The younger wolf’s jaw snapped shut as the leader’s glare dared him to respond. “Drop the jerky off at my house—leave it on the bar—then go home and pack a few changes of clothes.”
Mackiel snapped to attention. “Is leatsa mo shaol, Alpha.”
“After you pack, get a good night’s sleep. Be prepared to leave first thing in the morning. We’ll be traveling light and moving quickly.”
“I’ll be ready, Alpha.”
Chaz clapped the younger wolf on the shoulder in a physical show of affection not mirrored by his expression and released him. “Now get Grace to bed.”
This alpha was a piece of work. Clearly, he knew how to manipulate his pack with hints of loyalty and affection, strictly to fulfill his own desires and goals. I could almost respect that if not for his naked, crumpled daughter, for whom he had shown no concern whatsoever.
Then again, my own father had saddled me with a curse and sent sadists to break me under the guise of training, so what did I know about fatherly love?
The witch had stepped away from the circle. As the boy approached, she cautioned, “Take care not to touch the chalice.”
My attention shifted to the artifact. Grace had dropped it when she collapsed, and it now rested beside her head. Even though I bore the responsibility of guarding the chalice, I had never laid eyes on it before today. The artifact had arrived in a wooden box that neither my mother nor I had been able to open, despite our most creative efforts. Grace had somehow managed to not only open the box, but also to remove the chalice from my hoard. That chafed.
I glared at the artifact, wondering why it had refused me. The copper chalice was underwhelming in appearance, not nearly as fancy as the custom crystal glassware or China teacups I used daily.
“What should we do with the chalice?” Chaz asked.
“Leave it there. Grace will have to return for it in the morning,” Serena replied. “See that she keeps it on her at all times.”
Chaz’s eyes hardened, but he gave her a brisk nod. I could not help but wonder why the alpha was putting up with the witch’s orders. According to the shifter journal I had read, shifters were bigoted against anyone who was not pack. Yet this alpha was working with a witch. Grace had called her Auntie.
Had Chaz mated with a witch?
Mackiel knelt on the opposite side of Grace, away from both the witch and the chalice. He moved to touch her but seemed to think better of it. “She’s naked,” he pointed out.
“Are you just now realizing that?” the witch asked.
Something about her answer made me want to cover Grace. It was such a bizarre instinct that I had to drag my gaze from Grace and focus on Mackiel, who was looking to the alpha for directions.
“Do what you must. Just get her out of here,” Chaz said.
Mackiel reached for Grace’s clothes, opened her backpack, and stuffed everything in. Removing his own T-shirt, he gently tugged it over Grace’s head, sliding her arms into the holes and pulling it down to her knees. He was wrapping her in his scent. Claiming her while she was unconscious.
“Arioch, you are growling,” Catori said.
I started to argue but realized my guardian was right. As Mackiel scooped Grace into his arms, cradling her against his chest, I forced my fists to unclench, flattening them against the desktop. He stood, and the concern and affection on his face made me want to toss my desk again.
Catori tapped her chin with a finger. “The girl thinks this is about her wolf, but the witch and the alpha clearly have a different motive. I wish I knew what it was.”
I frowned, watching Mackiel exit the building with Grace. The curse required me to retrieve the chalice and kill the broken beast, but now the situation was growing complicated. As the broken beast, Grace should be the villain, not a pawn in some scheme cooked up by her family.
But what if I was wrong and she was not the enemy I had to kill?
No. It was absurd and dangerous to even consider sparing her life when my freedom depended on fulfilling my duty. The note my father had left me was sorely lacking in details, but that one order had been abundantly clear.
‘The broken beast will come for the chalice. To break the curse, you must slay the beast before it unravels the thread between life and death.’
Grace was still unconscious. Mackiel kept muttering reassurances and promising to protect her. Concern etched lines across his forehead as he watched her like she was the center of his universe.
