Aidan has been warned about the dangers of being with a human. His people live on the edges of society, in the shadows and alleys. And one day, if he's willing to submit to the birthright ceremony, he'll lead the next generation to continued wealth...
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The techno music thumps through the thick forest. The fucking morons who have the giant mansion beside our even more impressive property are throwing a rager. Sometimes having our lifestyle be forgotten by humans isn't as great as it seems. Nothing I'd like more than to gesture to our castle that's been on this land for hundreds of years and tell the rich prick next door that his new money has nothing on us. I could do that, but what's the point?
Normally, I don't care what the humans are doing. They're bugs that I'm forced to deal with from time to time. But watching Emmerson snuggle up to the douche on her front door and then take him into her dorm room? She could do so much better. The guy has the spine of a gnat. Do gnats have spines? Clearly my education has failed me. Either way it works. Tiny spine. No spine.
I drum my fingers on the chair in the dining room as my family assembles for dinner. One brother. Two sisters. One mother. One father. The rest of them pick up on my buzzing energy right away and sit away from me at the table meant more for extravagant dinner parties than cozy family meals.
Energy is like a sickness in the pack. Once one of us is feeling restless, the rest of us can catch it. If too many of us catch the restless energy, it can lead to overthrows or other stupid choices. In some ways, I suspect that was half the problem at the gas station the other night. Enough restless energy, spewing off me and infecting my cousins, to power a bomb. BOOM. Quite literally.
I can't fuck Emmerson if she won't remember it, and yet it's about the only thing I want to do lately. Be around her. Close to her. Inside her. So fucking deep inside her that even if she doesn't remember, no one will ever fill her the same again.
"You need to go fuck something," Kaden says.
Under normal circumstances, it's sound advice. Then it occurs to me that he might have read my mind, which isn't great news. If my younger brother can also get in without me knowing, I'm getting really fucking weak. Mental loss might even be happening faster than the physical transformation.
Already when I look in the mirror, I see the potential to walk amongst the humans, able to blend into a crowd. Would any of them remember me then? Cousins who are far enough removed from my core family have the option, but I never have.
To be seen and not remembered never felt like a curse until I caught my first whiff of Emmerson not long after I ditched Clara. Hunted her down. Kissed my mental acuity goodbye with the desire to kiss her instead. Those first few months when no one knew where I disappeared to were the best. Once my cousins caught on, the whole thing turned interesting in the wrong way.
A few of our third cousins who work for us deliver slabs of cooked meat from the kitchen and top up our wine goblets. Last thing I need is alcohol to make my judgement fuzzy, and I put a hand over my cup. Not that it matters. My cousins are giving me a wide berth. I'm on edge, and they can all feel it.
"I can have Clara delivered by morning," my mother says, picking up her meat and tearing into it.
"A run" I say. "More than one way to work this off."
"All that pent up energy is bad for everyone," my father says, as though I need the reminder. "And fucking is so much more enjoyable than the kind of punishing run you'll need. Let your mother call her to the estate."
I could be him right now. If my blood sang for anyone other than that lying cheat, I would be him.
"I'm surprised those urges haven't faded. You've grown so weak," father says.
He loves rubbing that shit in my face. Weak. Weak. Weak. We both know if I do the ceremony with Clara, there won't be an ounce of weakness in me. The first few years, before you have a pup, you're almost invincible. Every year you're at the top, every pup you have, you grow a touch weaker.
Only once I ascend does that leakage get corked for my parents. And then all my siblings become a touch weaker with each pup, with each level they're removed from the possibility of being me. Nature's way of ensuring there's no revolt once I take the reins. They come for me now, while we're all on equal footing, or they don't come at all.
The funny thing is, I don't feel weak around Emmerson. Whatever is running through my blood doesn't make me feel weak at all.
"Lust for a human will never make you strong," my father says, tearing into his meat.
"Stay out of my fucking mind," I snarl.
"Make me." He chuckles. "Oh, that's right. You can't." He lifts one eyebrow and then smirks at my brother as though they're in some exclusive group.
"You don't want to piss me off," I say, dropping my own meat on the plate.
"Why not?" my mother chimes in. "You say you won't do the ceremony. You'll grow weaker. So will we. Then there'll be someone vying for our spot in society. You won't be in charge of anything. None of us will be." She says it blithely, as though she doesn't care.
I push away from the table, unable to stand being around them anymore. Maybe I'll have to give in at some point to this farce of an arrangement with Clara, but I'm not there yet. Fuck them all for not understanding why she can't be trusted.
Whatever they might say, they aren't the only ones with spies. Clara isn't pining away for me with her pack. She's still engaged in her tryst with whatever wolf won her heart. That's the thing I'm learning about a blood connection. It's powerful, but it's not the only way to inspire a craving, to breed an obsession. I've got one of my own.
"Stay away from the neighbors tonight," my father says. "They'll be drunk and disorderly. No need to slap another thing on Sheriff Shoreditch's plate. The human brain is so fragile."
I don't know if it's a veiled threat aimed at Emmerson, but it feels like one, and my hackles rise along my back
My father chuckles but doesn't say another thing as I storm away from the table. They'd never go after her themselves, but I have no doubt they're capable of making her life difficult at best, brief and painful at worst.
Their patience with me will only last so long. Their indulgence of my temper tantrum only stretching so far. At some point, Clara will appear, our blood will call and mingle, and I'll be both the most miserable and most powerful I've ever been.
