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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By the time whatever this is between Emmerson and I is over, I'll be locked up in a mental health facility. Not that wolves have those. I'll be exiled. Given our penchant for invading each other's minds and emotions, mental health is considered contagious, much like the restless energy I've been struggling to contain. We keep ourselves under strict control so we don't damage the whole pack. There's a good chance I'll destroy us all.
For weeks, I've been tracking her while she works, visiting her, even though the visits are futile. My claims are either outlandish lies or disarmingly honest because she doesn't remember a single word of it anyway. In some ways it's quite freeing.
She remembers nothing so I can turn her on, make her laugh, piss her off, say romantic and foolish things. Whatever fear I once inspired in her has vanished, but I can never quite convince myself that our nighttime chats are satisfying enough, that I don't want more.
My blood still runs hot around her, but I've gotten used to denying my urges. As though maybe it's possible to train these connections, tame them. Or maybe I can handle the buzz because she's human and this draw is unnatural. None of it makes any sense, but I've mostly stopped caring. I like being around her, and for now, that's enough of a reason to be there.
"Aidan," my sister Nagam calls to me just before I can slip out a side exit to head to the state park, to Emmerson. "Wait."
I release a sigh of frustration and turn to face her. We stare at each other in silence, and even though she's younger than me, I'm expecting a lecture. Ruining the family. Whatever bullshit mother has been feeding her. None of them understand what it's like to be me. To be so torn between what I'm pretty sure I must do but will hate, and what, or rather who, I'm desperate to have but can never fully grasp.
"Did Mom and Dad speak to you?"
"They try not to," I say, and I run a hand through my hair. "Why?" The question is wary when it leaves me. Manipulation is always the name of the game.
"They've had contact from a northern clan, asking if we're interested in surrendering to their rule."
"Surrendering?" I scoff. "To a northern clan? Someone on our borders, I might believe. Might." I hold up a finger. Our border clans are friendly with us. We keep firm divisions and everyone is happy. "Mom and Dad must be desperate to start inventing danger."
"They're not inventing it. I saw the letter. The danger is real, and maybe it's not immediate, but it's out there."
"A northern clan would have no use for our land. Can't be in two places at once." I put my hand on the door, ready to dismiss her.
"It's for their second son. By all accounts the favored one. Just—" She shakes her head and gives me a pleading look. "Do the reading. The clans might be peaceful around here, but they aren't everywhere."
If this is the manipulation I suspect it is, they'll be counting on me not doing the reading, on their ability to guilt trip me into doing what they believe is right.
