Pack Bound: Pack Bound Series Book 1, page 24
Half an hour later, feeling half human at least—although the aching pain in her chest hadn’t abated—she wandered downstairs. Bypassing the lounge room where the Pack Diaries were waiting, she headed to the kitchen. She hadn’t eaten since having a few slices of the pizza Adam had ordered the night before. Jason was right—if she was to keep up her strength and not get sick again, she needed to eat.
The kitchen was at the back of the house and as she stepped into the large, open space, the scent of freshly baked bread and tomatoes welcomed her. And basil. There was fresh basil growing in a tub alongside the bowl of tomatoes on the windowsill that overlooked the garden, the late-afternoon sun shining on their bright green leaves.
She was surprised how large the kitchen was, given that this was essentially a bachelor pad. The modern appliances were well used, suggesting someone loved to cook—the smell of freshly baked bread was testament to that. Newspapers and crayons were scattered on the oversized oak table that took up a huge portion of the kitchen, and a box of toys sat next to the faded red couch and armchairs that faced the far wall, where a huge flat-screen TV hung. Large, leafy green plants stood on either side of the bank of glass doors that led out onto the patio that wrapped around the back and side of the house, spilling out onto the huge garden.
Her eye was caught by a huge canvas on the wall opposite the TV; a splash of wild colours—red, orange, yellow, black, white and earthy browns with a hint of mossy green here and there. The painting was abstract, designed to create emotion in the viewer. Skye swallowed as she looked at it; passion, desire, loss and loneliness. That’s what she felt looking at the painting. It drew her in.
She padded across the wooden floorboards, across the plush cream and green rug that covered the floor in front of the couch so as to view the painting with nothing between her and it. In the corner was a signature: A. McVale.
Adam? Who would have known? There was so much more to him than she’d guessed. Jason had mentioned he was the pack Trickster; she really would have to find out what that meant. Looking at this painting, she had a feeling it meant he was far more than just a clown with a cocky smile.
Her stomach growled.
Tearing her gaze from the image, she turned and headed towards the fridge, trying to tamp down her reaction to the painting—to the room in general.
It was probably because this whole room wasn’t what she’d expected in a bachelor residence. It wasn’t clinical with clean lines, but warm and welcoming. A kitchen and family room used by a family. The kind of place she’d always longed for. The kind of place that made you feel like you belonged.
In fact, the whole house was like that. It was a family home, with half-a-dozen bedrooms, not to mention a study and play room, a formal lounge and dining and this large room. What could two bachelors with a little boy need with such a large house?
A whisper of memory came to her: her mother standing in their kitchen, cooking, flour on her cheek, the scent of pasta sauce and roasting lamb wafting delightfully in the air, mixing with the sweet floral hint of Ivy Collins’ perfume. Ivy glanced up as five males let themselves in through the back door, each grabbing her up in a fierce hug and giving her smacking kisses on the cheek, hands lingering on shoulders and arms in ways that were not sexual but that proclaimed their affection for her. She returned their affection. They were pack. They belonged to each other.
‘I’m running a bit late,’ Ivy said. ‘You know where the drinks are. Help yourself. Paul is in the lounge room. Skye, can you please grab the oil for me?’
Skye was just being set back on her feet by the biggest of the five men, laughing as he tousled her hair. She scampered off, dodging the back door as it opened to let in another group of people.
The memory faded, leaving her gasping and disoriented.
So many people. Pack. Welcome in her parents’ house like it was their own.
At least now she understood the size of this house. Members of the pack probably stayed here with Jason and Adam. It would only be natural they’d want to be near their Alpha. It would explain why the house had the feel of a home, not just a bachelor pad or a base of operations.
There was a feeling of rightness here—remembering that scene with her mother brought clarity to what Jason had said last night about her being pack, reaffirming it. But what did that mean to her?
Shoving aside the feelings the memory brought up, she tugged open the fridge door, and stood there for a long moment, looking blindly at the contents before pulling herself up.
‘Get a grip, Skye. Get some food, read the diaries, figure the rest out later.’
She pulled out a large dish that took up most of the second shelf. Leftover lasagne. It would do. She put it in the microwave to nuke and then poured a glass of water.
Her phone rang. She looked at the screen: Morrigan.
‘Gran, what’s happened? Why are you calling?’
‘I just wanted to know how you were feeling. Alfrere said you would probably sleep for quite some time so I gave you most of the day before I called. Are you okay?’
Skye was so stunned that at first the words wouldn’t come. ‘I’m … I’m fine … Thanks for asking.’
‘Of course I’d ask. I tried to call you at home but you weren’t there.’
‘No. Jason took me to his place. We thought it might be safer here and I wanted to read the McVale Pack Diaries he keeps here. I thought they might help.’
‘Help? Help what? You know what you have to do. You aren’t thinking of tapping into your powers and helping them, are you?’
Skye sighed. ‘I’m just trying to find the best way forward.’
‘The best way forward is for you to do as Alfrere and I told you. He didn’t weave that spell last night just to have you ignore us. It wasn’t fun for him, you know.’
‘It wasn’t fun for me either.’
‘No … Well, I’m sorry it was so painful, but there was a purpose to it. It wasn’t so you could play happy families with the Were.’
Skye snorted. ‘It’s hardly been happy families. But they have a different view of things than you.’
‘Of course they do.’
‘They need me to stay and help them.’
‘Selfish bastards. Don’t they care what could happen to you if you do stay? What could happen to River?’
‘River will die. They will die if I don’t find a way to break the Curse you disregarded.’
‘They didn’t look after their coven the way they should. They deserve to succumb to that goddamned Curse!’
The viciousness in Morrigan’s voice made Skye momentarily speechless. ‘How … how can you say that?’
‘I can say that because I understand the truth. Where-else you … you have let them hoodwink you.’
‘What do you mean? They haven’t hoodwinked me. I’d know if they were lying—something to do with the Alpha–Pack Witch bond.’
‘There are things they don’t know.’
‘And I suppose you do?’
‘Yes. Things Alfrere has told me. You need to come back. You need to let us help you.’
‘I can’t leave the pack to suffer. It wouldn’t be right.’
‘Even if it means the rogue coven could capture you? And what about River? They’ll come after him too to make you do what they want. They’ll torture him, and you, to get you to use your magic for their benefit.’
Skye shuddered at the coldness in Morrigan’s tone. ‘Jason says he can protect River and me and Grandpa agrees. Especially given Jason says that I’m far more powerful than my father, and if I can only find some way of tapping into my powers without them exploding out of me, then—’
‘No! You can’t do that.’
Skye’s hackles rose at her grandmother’s tone. ‘Don’t tell me what to do. I’m sick of everyone telling me what to do. I can make my own decisions, my own choices. And I choose to stay and help Jason and the pack.’ She stopped, breathless. She hadn’t known until that moment her decision had been made.
She was staying. Nothing and nobody could drag her away. She had a purpose—Jason had given her that. Even if he couldn’t return her love, he’d given her something to strive for. Something worthwhile. Something to build on. And that just might be enough to mend her broken heart.
Pack. She belonged with them. As they belonged to her.
‘I’m going to learn about my powers. I’m going to help the pack and break the Curse. And I will stand and fight the rogue coven with everything in me.’
‘Skye, you’re being foolish. You’re letting sentiment get in the way of reason.’
‘No. I’m not. I’m finally seeing things clearly. And when I’m ready, I’m going to come and get River. I know you love him and you’ve always looked after him, but he belongs with me and the pack. They might be able to help him where you haven’t.’
‘Skye. Please, listen—’
‘No, Gran. I have listened. This is my choice. If you are afraid, you can run, but I’m not running any more.’
‘Skye—’
‘I’ll call you in a few days, tell you how I’m going. And if you want to help me in my new life, I’m sure the pack would be happy to welcome you back.’
Before Morrigan could say anything else, Skye hung up and turned her phone off. She knew Morrigan would call again, but she wasn’t going to answer. Her grandmother had made her choice and now Skye had made hers.
She pulled the lukewarm lasagne out of the microwave, and carried it to the table. The scent of cheesy meat and tomato made her stomach growl. Suddenly ravenous, she shoved the first bite in before she’d even taken her seat. The lasagne was homemade and delicious with its chunky sauce and hints of basil, oregano and chilli. It was the first time she’d enjoyed food in weeks.
Once she was finished, she washed up her dishes and wandered into the lounge room. The diaries were on the coffee table where Jason said they would be. Picking up two of them, she plonked down on the lounge with a sigh. Staring at the top one in her lap, she ran her hand over it.
There was nothing special about the cover—just brown leather with ‘Paul Collins’ Diary’ embossed in black in the middle. Her fingers tingled as she ran them over her father’s name, but the tingling wasn’t bad.
She went to open the diary, but her hand began to tremble.
Coward! Her father had written this. There was nothing to fear and a lot to gain. What had happened to the resolve she’d found in her conversation with Morrigan?
She gripped the leather cover. After a long moment of staring at it, she looked up and around. ‘Grandpa?’ He didn’t answer. ‘Grandpa? I have some questions for you.’
‘He’s not here.’
Skye jumped and looked up to see Shelley standing in the doorway. ‘How do you know?’
‘I’d see him.’ Shelley shrugged her shoulders as if that was normal.
‘Where is he?’
Shelley shook her head and walked into the room. ‘I don’t know. Wherever spirits hover when they’re not trying to interact with living people. I’ve never asked.’
‘Don’t you want to know?’
Shelley shuddered. ‘Not really.’ She leaned forward, her long golden plait falling over her shoulder, and ran her hand over the volume in Skye’s lap. ‘Is this one of the diaries?’
‘Yes.’
‘Have you found anything in them yet?’
‘I haven’t been able to open it. Even though I want to know, even though I have to know, I’m afraid of what I’ll find.’
Shelley didn’t press her with questions like Bron would have, just picked up another diary. ‘They smell nice.’
Skye frowned, breathing in the scent of the leather. It was mixed with other scents, spices and herbs with the faintest touch of woodsmoke, tantalisingly familiar. ‘They smell like Papa, I think.’
‘Yes. They do. He always smelled of his work,’ Jason said as he came to a stop in the doorway.
Skye swung around, her gaze meeting his, the green a deep emerald, like two pools high in the mountains surrounded by lush trees. He thought he might drown in them. ‘You’re home early,’ she whispered.
‘I am.’
‘Thank you for leaving these out for me.’ A faint smile touched her lips.
Jason bowed his head. ‘My pleasure. But there’s nothing to be afraid of in them.’
She blushed and looked away. ‘You heard me.’
‘I did.’ He came around the couch and sat on the coffee table in front of her, picking up a volume and turning it over in his hands. ‘They’re your heritage. They were written for you. There are things in here that will not reveal themselves to anyone other than those with power—much to my frustration.’
‘You’ve read them?’
‘I have. As my father did before me, trying to gain some information that would help us to find you. But much of it remained a mystery to him as it does to me. As I said, they were meant for you.’ He stroked the brown leather as he looked at her.
By the Moon, he could look at her forever and never get bored. He saw something new, something unique, every time. She seemed to sense he was staring at her, because she glanced up at him and then away before he could capture her gaze again.
She returned her attention to the diaries, her fingers trembling over the leather, and then, taking in a deep breath, opened it and began to read.
Not wanting to make it harder for her to concentrate, he stood, his movement knocking one of the volumes to the floor. He bent to pick it up and as he did so, a loose piece of paper slipped from between the pages and fluttered to the floor. Turning it over, he opened the folded piece to see what it was.
The spell Cordy had given him. How had it gotten inside the diary? He thought he’d put it in his desk drawer.
‘What is it?’ Skye asked, her eyes on him once again.
‘This is the spell I told you about. The one Cordelia created to help unblock your powers so you could have full use of them.’
‘Did Marcus change his mind? Is she coming to help Skye learn about her powers?’ Shelley asked, looking up from the diary in her lap.
Jason shook his head. ‘Marcus won’t let Cordy off Packland and he won’t allow Skye to go to her, because her powers are so unstable.’
‘I wouldn’t go, even if he asked.’
He looked down at Skye, startled. ‘Why not? If they want to help?’
‘They have children, don’t they? I’m not going anywhere I might hurt children.’
Of course that would be foremost in her mind. Could she be any more perfect as a mate?
She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, then put out her hand. ‘Can I look at that?’ He passed it to her, watching as her eyes darted over it. After a moment, she dropped the piece of paper into her lap, squeezing her fingers into her palms. ‘I can feel the power in these words.’
‘She said you must speak them aloud.’
‘Read them, Skye,’ Shelley said.
Skye shook her head, folded the paper and put it in her pocket. ‘No. Not until I know more about my magic. I want to read this first.’ She tapped the diary. ‘And perhaps if I could do a video conference with Cordelia and ask her some questions in the next day or so?’
Jason nodded, certain Cordy would be more than happy to do that.
‘Good. I need to figure out how to control the magic that’s been leaking out. Who knows what will happen if the whole lot is unleashed.’
‘That’s what I’m here for,’ Jason said. ‘You’re supposed to channel it through me.’
‘No!’
She sounded horrified. Jason couldn’t help it—he knelt down beside the couch and touched her shoulder. She looked up at him, then away. He brushed her hair back from her face, cupped her chin and lifted her head so her gaze met his once again. ‘It’s the way it works.’
‘I won’t do it until I know more. I could kill you. I almost killed River.’
‘You didn’t know what you were doing.’
‘I still don’t.’ She jerked her head back, out of his gentle grip. ‘I’ve agreed to stay, to help, but you have to let me do it my way.’
His wolf snarled its disappointment, but he kept his expression gentle, calm. He tapped the diary. ‘Read this and we’ll talk.’
‘We’ll see,’ she muttered, returning her attention to the diary as he moved away.
‘I need to call Iain, see if the perimeter is clear. Will you be okay here without me for a while?’
Skye nodded, her eyes pinned on the diary in front of her. ‘Tom will be home soon. Have you thought any more about sending him away?’
‘I have. Iain is going to take him and Suzie back to Packland tomorrow morning when a few more of my lieutenants arrive to help with security here.’
‘Good. I meant what I said about not wanting any children to be hurt.’
‘It’s your concern that tells me you are going to be a wonderful Pack Witch. Children are what binds the pack together. There’s nothing more important than them.’
‘I agree.’
He couldn’t see her expression—her hair hung down, concealing her face—but he could see by the set of her shoulders she was tense. ‘You shouldn’t read for too long. It’ll be dinner soon. You should eat and then rest more.’
Her eyes snapped up to his. ‘I slept all day and I’ve just eaten. Right now, I want to read these. I want answers.’
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he nodded. ‘Okay.’ He understood. Hell, he wanted her to get a handle on her magic as quickly as possible, too. But he also didn’t want her falling sick. He glanced at Shelley; she was eying them both, a curious expression on her face.
She seemed to read the question in his eyes though because she nodded. ‘I’ll make sure she goes to bed if she gets tired.’
‘I’m not a child.’
Jason’s lips twitched at Skye’s petulant tone.
‘Are you sure?’ Shelley quipped.
Skye glared at her friend. Shelley just poked out her tongue. Then, suddenly, Skye was laughing.
The sound filled Jason with warmth and hope. If she could laugh, then maybe she wasn’t in as bad a place as he feared. ‘Well, if you’re here to take care of her …’
