Hello, my dears!
So this is it - the very first chapter of the Monarch. Please note that this story describes events that are chronologically happening after the end of book 1 - The Change and many of the characters had already appeared in the first book. Therefore you are strongly encouraged to read the first book before reading this. It will make a lot more sense if you follow the books than trying to jump in the action "right away". Although I would do try to repeat and refer to events in general terms, you will understand a lot of the references if you had read the first book.
So there, you have been warned!
Any creative criticism will be taken in consideration. I really appreciate your input. Also, I do tend to leave hints on what I am planning to do with the next couple of chapters while replying to some of the messages (usually I stick around and reply to as many as I can on the same day that I post). If you want to talk to me - write me a personal message. I am not always able to respond to every single one. Sorry.
Oh, and yip, Nessa and Alphalicious (aka Marcus) are going to be featured into the later chapters of the story. Remember Jon will have to go and relief Marcus of his duties as an Interim Monarch. So you will know what Nessa and her hulky mate have been up to. No more spoiler alerts (for now).
Hope you will enjoy this book!
Love y'all.
xoxo,
SteamyHot
*** the chapters after the first few are set on private. The full book is on Wattpad but you have to be a follower to read. Troubleshooting not seeing the chapters (unfollow me, delete book, follow me and add the book)***
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Chapter 1 - Crossing pathways
dedicated to @WarriorWriter whose "Under the Heat" is one of my all time favorite stories. Can't wait for the sequel!
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Avery
The small cottage was engulfed by shrouds of white snow that kept on falling from the grey sky. At first the snowflakes melted into the ground, producing a mist that circled around the low bushes and covered the bases of the trees. Then the frozen crystals gently stuck to the ground, scattered and shining as pearls. Later on, the emerging pearls adhered to one another, producing a crisp crust that served as the base of the shrouds that later on surrounded everything that eyes could see.
Beautiful, pure whiteness...
It was as if Avery was transported into a magical setting of one of the books she loved to read. Her fingers nails tapped against the edge of the mug that she was holding. Observing the nature outside only made her wonder how severe would the snowstorm get before it cleared.
Theforecast predicted the snowfall would average two feet with areas up to three feet. That was an obscene amount of snow. In her twenty seven years, Avery could not remember even the murmur of such a harsh winter. There was a certain beauty in the drastic weather changes. For once, she was grateful that she had not left for the city before hearing the forecast. It would be a nightmare to have to drive into the blizzard. If she had to be snowed in, she would rather be indoors with food, electricity and logs at hand than out there, stuck in a car and having barely the fuel to go to town. Avery mentally scolded herself for being lazy and not buying gas when she first passed through the town. Now, it was too late.
Cold was not a problem. As werewolves had higher core temperature, it would take a significant drop in temperature before she had to use the logs to feed the fireplace that was built into the inner wall of the cottage, promising warmth for the entire floor plan.
The pantry was stocked and she could survive weeks before having to resolve to good old hunting. By then all animal life would have resumed their pre-storm pattern.
There was nothing that she had to worry about in terms of surviving the weather.
The only real problem came from the location of the cottage itself. It was far too close to them for her taste. And she did not have any doubt in her mind that if they caught her scent, she would be in real trouble. Trouble that she might not be able to avoid.
The only beautiful thing about the possibility of being snowed in was that the snow would not only keep her indoors. It would also prevent them from finding her. The snow would dampen her scent and even the best tracker would not be able to follow her trail into the city. Her Stan, as she lovingly called her Mustang, was going to carry her into town and escape any detection.
She really did need the peace and quiet and for once in her life, she was really looking forward to being on her own. In a household full of she-wolves and their pups of different ages, personal space and boundaries were a mythical illusion. Werewolves were social, up to the point where their tightly knit community rivaled a big family and as such your business was everyone's business. She didn't necessarily mind having them back her up, but it was dreadful to live in a pack where spending time alone was frowned upon. After all, what would you possibly want to do alone?
Avery had lots of things on her mind. Sleeping in late was the number on contender. She literally could not remember when was the last time when she had awoken on her own, instead of by someone or by her alarm. Responsibilities were weighing heavy on her shoulders and she would opt for standing up early before everyone else had awoken to sift through the mountain of paperwork that she usually had on her desk. Pack business was so exhausting.
A close number two on her bucket list was catching up on her favorite books. It has been a while since there was enough time that she could curl in the sofa and read to heart content. Prioritizing others than her own guilty pleasure was beginning to take a toll on her and was part of the reason why she had jumped at the opportunity of some field work.
A small smile spread over her plum lips as she closed her eyes and breathed in. Everything was peaceful here. Everything reminded her of the good old days when she could roam the fields free of worries and responsibilities. How naive has she been back then!
She quickly turned around, moving from the window to sit down on the couch. As she did that, she covered her legs with the very same blanket that had buried the uncontrolled fit of giggles and hushed conversations with her sisters. Oh, how much she missed them! She would give anything to get things back to the way they were! She silently prayed the Goddess would watch over them and for Fate to deal them a better Luck in life than Avery had been given.
A deep breath later, Avery was finally ready to resume her book.
It always fascinated her how romantic novels were everything but realistic. That is why when she accidentally came across "Taken", she was absolutely captivated by the story. The author Raven Devenheart surely knew how to make the reader cry with Violet over her heartbreak and later on shudder with anticipation once her steamy affair with Beta Landon starts. It was a werewolf story that the human society would classify as fiction, but Avery knew that the world described on the pages was real because she was living it.
As she kept on reading, she was captivated by the words on each page and soon time ceased to exit. Avery's world was focused on what the next sentence would be, what the next page would reveal about her favorite heroine, would the next chapter bring closure to the tormented heart of the rejected she-wolf.
Her heart was already beating faster as her hungry eyes were soaking the information from the pages. It was now or never, would Violet take the leap of faith and trust Landon with her secret or would she go back to the good for nothing bastard that Fate had appointed for her?
And then she heard it.
The piercing howl that sent chills down her spine. Her skin pricked. Her poor heart was beating faster as if she had ran a marathon, despite the fact that she was sitting comfortably in her chair.
Had they found her?
Avery quickly closed her eyes, in order to give her enhanced hearing all the accuracy that it needed to locate the mysterious sound. Was it a howl or had she imagined it? If it was real then it would repeat itself. Avery was breathing lightly, afraid that even her breathing would be too loud and prevent her from detecting the faintest sound. She needed to know.
The moment she started to doubt herself of what she had heard and was ready to blame her overactive imagination for it, the howl repeated itself. She cringed.
It was real!
Her mind quickly compared the two howls trying to determine if they came from the same source. If they had found her, at least two trackers would have been sent before the head hunting party.
And then it came again – much closer and louder!
Her body stiffened. It was definitely the same howl, but that did little to stop her shaking hands. She reluctantly closed her book, regretting that she had not started reading it earlier. Then she would have finished the story! Leaving things half way done irritated her. Plus her own curiosity had intensified and now she wanted to figure out how the story would end. It was very possible now that she would never be able to find out.
She quietly crept to the front door and surveyed the front yard. The snow was reflecting the moonlight leaving less shadows where enemies could hide. In a night like this, she counted the snowfall a blessing. The undisturbed surface only told her that she was not surrounded... yet...
Her hand quickly reached in the closet and snaked around the shotgun. She didn't have silver bullets, but even these wooden ones would do significant damage and give her a fighting chance as there was no point of running anymore. If they had found her, she only had one option left.
Take as many of them down before she died...
She opened the door swiftly and stepped on the porch, scanning the area.
And then she finally recognized the silver smudge that looked unnaturally darker than its surroundings as a lone werewolf.
Avery made a show of loading the gun, hoping that the wolf would think she had silver bullets and would think twice of attacking her. The growl that followed was all the evidence she needed to know her plan was working. The were actually thought of the silver bullets and circled the house cautiously.
"You alone?" Her voice carried over the quiet night stern and steady, masking her uncertainty. "What do you want?"
As the wolf neared, her eyes managed to pick up on the patches of dark silver fur. A second later she could clearly distinguish them as blood soaked fur. There was no doubt that something bad had befallen the were as the wounds were still not healing. The size of the wolf was bigger than the average, which only led her to believe it was a male. Her eyes narrowed, evaluating the injuries that he sustained. The closer he got to the house, the more details she could actually distinguish. He looked like he had been through a meat grinder and it was amazing how he was still standing, much less emitting those menacing growls.
She lowered her shotgun. There was no way that he was able to attack her, and even if he did, she could easily handle him in his state.
"What happened to you, bud?" She asked calmly. By now her eyes could clearly evaluate the damage he sustained. Nobody deserved to suffer that much. She took a deep breath and quickly run by the worst possibilities which always came back to the point. It eventually drawn on her that the longer they stood outside, they risked detection by her true enemies. She surprised even herself when she heard her steady voice, "That must be giving you a killer burn", she pointed the silver burn on his side. As his snarl died down, she cautiously applied, "I could help clean and patch you up. What do you say?"
He looked conflicted. Patches of his fur were torn out and she had to suppress her initial thought to cringe at the sight as her eyes could finally take him in. His piercing blue eyes that were not quite blue and not quite grey made her welcome him in. She couldn't read much of his facial expression, but those eyes... those eyes held the hurt and distress that his body had been through. His eyes focused on her and kept her captivated for what seemed like ages, while it reality it couldn't have been longer than a minute. It finally registered in his thick scull that she was offering him shelter and that's when he broke eye contact with her.
He obviously had a stormy past, but with the storm, knocking at their door, she couldn't brush him off. He needed a person to talk to, even if that was the last thing on his mind right now.
"Listen, make your mind. You can pout later", Avery sternly snapped instead of encouragement as the male kept on ignoring her attempts to get his attention and get him in the damn cottage. Having the door open for so long all but guaranteed that the warmth would escape. It didn't help that it was freezing outside, nor that the small fireplace that was barely able to warm up the indoors! She huffed, deciding to make the choice for the big, battered wolf that was sitting on her porch. She firmly commanded, "Get inside before all the warmth goes through the door! Now!".
Frantically looking at the surrounding, she swung the screen door open, extending her command with the universal invitation to come in. The wolf followed her glaze and with a rumble through his wide chest trotted up the stairs, making a point to shove her out of the way in a rebellious manner. She rolled her eyes at this childish behavior that did not suit the one of a clearly grown male shifter. Overgrown male were with the capacity of a five year old, she mentally corrected herself.
Otherwise how could a sane person explain his state of distress and timing? Right as the snow blizzard was threatening to show its true might! Over three feet of snow have already fallen, and the snow warning was in affect for three more hours! It would definitely exceed the predicted amount. Avery had no doubt in her mind that the winds were going to make the track path dreadful to travel up or down the mountain slope. If he had stayed outside, he would have been as good as dead.
She scanned the area, feeling her paranoia set once again. The moment that she had heard his growls at the cottage, she had all but freaked out that they had come for her. Her relief was more than palpable while instead of an executioner squad that she expected, she had found out that all the commotion was the mere doing of this silver-grey wolf that seemed even worse for the wear than she initially anticipated.
Since there was no such thing as rabid werewolf, she decided that he was not much of a threat. After all, she could handle herself quite well, even if she was a member of the fairer sex. It's only been such a long time that she had put up with the theatrics of a male house-guests that made her roll her eyes once again at his constant growling as she shut the screen door.
Hopefully the falling snowflakes were going to be enough to mask his scent and trail to her cabin. The last thing she needed was the Royal Guards sniffing around. Attracting too much attention was just as good as death sentence.
Locking the door behind her back, her wolf paced inside her. She didn't need another lecture from her, so Avery shoved her down. She could imagine the conversation, "Av, why the heck would you get yourself involved with this mutt? He is not our problem".
But she knew that she would never be able to turn her back and enjoy the warmness of the cottage fire after she had seen him shivering, under fed and wounded. He wouldn't last the snowstorm. The last thing that she wanted was to spend the weekend feeling guilty about his inevitable demise. She could help him get on his feet, even if it was only to prevent her guilty conscious from eating her peace away.
After all, she couldn't bear another death to weigh on her shoulders.
The moment that she turned around, she spotted his big frame nestling cozily in front of the fireplace. She decided to let him be and busied herself in the kitchen fixing a sandwich for him. After all, she had leftovers and it was as easy at putting bread and cheese together to prepare the silly sandwich. It was not as if she was going out of her way to accommodate him.
She was just being compassionate.
Yes, that was it. If she could open her house to she-wolves and their pups that she had never met before, it was only fair to do so for him, too. The only difference was that he was a male Rogue. He seemed new at that, judging by how unprepared he was for the real life outside a pack. Somehow she felt responsible of showing the Rogue the basic rules to staying alive.
That is why when she saw him sitting miserably in her front yard and trying to pull off a menacing stance, she could not just let him be. She had to get involved. She only hoped that he didn't turn and bite her whole hand off.
Looking at the sandwich, she got irritated. Wasn't this supposed to be her get-away? Her time alone, before she had to go back to her busy schedule?! She was dreading her mission, but in the same time the need for a trainer for the pups was quickly becoming overwhelming. She could hardly help their own mothers to rein them in. With more incidents happening each day, she had to swallow her own pride and admit it was beyond her abilities and that she needed a male for the task. That has been the hardest thing of her whole ordeal and surely left a bitter taste in her mouth. But she had to do it for the good of the pups. For the good of the Pack.
But how she wished she didn't have to do this fieldwork! She would rather stay here and do nothing. But she knew her duty, her responsibility! The Pack relied on her. She had a job to do and she had already developed a plan of how to track a proper battle instructor! The only obstacle in her way was the snow-storm that had come crushing down, sealing her in her in the small cottage for the next couple of days! Not that Avery was going to complain. It was after all Nature's own way of postponing Avery's inevitable mission! Such a marvelous distraction! Even HIS appearance was a welcoming distraction. One more thing to take her mind away of her own problems.
Maybe that is why when she had seen the male motionless in the snow, she had decided to take him in. You could call it her own twisted sense of empowerment. If she could save a male and have a say over his future, then she was not as useless as she thought.
Oh, well, judging by his reluctance to even express interest in the food that she was preparing, she decided that her house-guest was a depressed loner, who apparently couldn't handle a fight. Depressed because nobody in their right mind would be able to ignore her mouth watering scent of the leftover meat that she used for the sandwich? She was after all an exceptional cook! Her irritation was rising by his obvious lack of interest in her food. Therefore, he had to be severely depressed not to be nudged to come and investigate the food.
His matted fur and the previous scarring across his chest and neck at least told her that much. As the minutes tickled by, she decided to check up on him, plate in hand. Didn't he look skinny enough to be starved to death?
Nah, it couldn't be, could it? It was not random, why people lined up for miles to praise her cooking in the small restaurant that she used to work as a chef, until she got her diploma. Ah, but had it not been a life-time ago.
She shook her head and stormed into her living room. If he hadn't trotted into the kitchen, it only meant that he was out cold or expired. The latter didn't sit well with her. She had never lost a wolf before and she was not about to do so today. Though, thinking of him as patient was a stretch. He would heal in a couple of days. Of course, that was if he hadn't suffered an internal damage. Then it might be too late.
That thought alone sprang her into action, sandwich in hand. Her food was the perfect resuscitation tool that could even be enough incentive for a death to rise. The pups had come up with colorful suggestions how a zombie apocalypse would be successfully resolved by her cooking alone!
Even, if they weren't her own, she loved those pups to death!
They were her meaning.
Avery discovered him in the exact same position that she had left him several minutes ago – outstretched onto the furs in front of her fireplace. Regretfully she realized that she had to wash those furs as soon as his pouting majesty decided to take a bath. The reek that was coming from him was making her cringe and challenging her own belly to grumble in distaste.
She decided to let him sleep it off and leave the plate with food in front of him. No need for him to go outside to hunt and bring in even more dirt, while she all but wanted to conceal her presence here.
The moment that she crouched to leave the plate in front of him, he lunged at her, baring his teeth at her. In all her twenty-seven years of life, Avery had never witnessed the force of a raging wolf. His lean body propelled itself from the floor in a split second, knocked her breath out as soon as her back collided with a harsh thud against the floor. Of course, he landed gracefully on top of her, while his pointy canines snapped in her face. His breath flared across her face, as his growl slowly begun to die down, his eyes finally landed on his prey, remotely recognizing her probably like the silly she-wolf that offered him shelter from the storm.
"Someone needs to pop a breath mint", the thought passed her mind and Avery all but wanted to strangle her own wolf. Here she was, on the verge of being torn to shreds by the deranged wolf, while all her precious wolf could muster was "breath mint". Silly she-wolves! They always went meek when a male was around.
There was a clear separation between her own thoughts and those of her bitch, as Avery lovingly chose to call her wolf. Note the sarcasm. While Avery had loved with every fiber of her being the man that Fate had chosen for her up to the point when he first laid hand on her, her wolf had been meek and accused her of their predicament they had found themselves in. Mates were never supposed to show anything but love to each other and her wolf was set in her beliefs that the occasional smacks were show of affection. How delusional could her wolf be?! Avery had felt betrayed by both her mate and wolf. Her resolution was to distance herself from either one of them and she had been successful thus far.
On the rare occasions that her wolf had taken over, she had behaved as bitch in heat. Yes, if it was up to her wolf, they would be exchanging bodily fluids with everything that moved. Breathing was not even a requirement in her wolf's book. It didn't matter if it was a human or a were, a vampire or a tool, her wolf was bitch with itch. Avery was more than relieved when her wolf reverted back in her own twisted mind once it finally became obnoxiously clear that Avery wasn't going to jump in the so-proposed life-style wagon that her wolf was so vividly promoting.
To say that her relationship with her wolf was strained was an understatement. How else would you describe the constant power struggle between you and your inner self?
Humans had it easy!
There were several ways how a were could handle the loss, rejection or separation from a mate. It all narrowed to the basic – sex, drugs, alcohol, death or life-changing experience. Since she was not ready to be a doormat to her primal desire, sex was taken off the possible list in the mere beginning. Drugs were worthless. She could never fathom how people were gladly spending an increasing amount of money on something so transitional. Not that she hadn't tried her share of experimental medicine, as she liked to call it. Nothing had worked to dampen the sadness that had drawn her for weeks at a time. Booze was the only option that was remotely effective and affordable as Avery would never spend more than a nice pair of shoes on recreational medicine that her body burned through like wildfire over dry land. Death had seemed a plausible alternative had it not been for the raging bitch inside of her that somehow always managed to take control and avert the inevitable. At least, her wolf had been good for one thing.
That left her only option – life-change experience. Since she didn't have a child to live for, nor a great cause such as revenge to continue living for, she found herself searching joy in little every day things. Her life restructured itself from luxury and glamour to the four white walls of the kitchen restaurant that had given her purpose – to feed the endless stream of hungry throats that managed to find their way to the small restaurant that she had worked at. Then one of the patrons that she had later come to know as her friend Dr. Thea Hammington had extended her field of interest into rescuing animals. It did help a lot that she was tough and meaner than the good doctor and could handle the hooligans thanks to her werewolf strength.
Damn, if that wasn't a proper ending of her miserable life as it was, Avery didn't know what else could be even remotely closer – she could imagine the headlines "chewed to death by rescued animal".
Not pleasant.
She raised her hand and wiped his dripping saliva off her cheek.
"Get off me!" She frowned. As she finally found the strength to slightly pushed him away, her eyes trailed down to the mess to her right.
The beautiful blue plate was shattered to pieces!
It was one of the last remnants of her childhood years and it was ready to be thrown away, because of the testosterone-filled flea bag in front of her! Avery exclaimed, "Look what you did now!".
She rushed and started picking up the plate pieces until a sharp glass cut into her finger.
Damn it!
Seeing the red liquid from her finger, she cursed under her breath. The wolf beside her kept on watching her with slight irritation, which made her blood boil. Here she was risking her own skin for a homeless mutt and he had the audacity to fuss up at her own expense.
"That's it!" Avery anger exploded "You made the mess, and you better fix it before I come out of the bathroom, or else mister, injured or not, I am going to throw you the hell out of here! I would not even share a minute feeling guilty over your bony ass freezing to a popsicle outside!"
And with that she stood up and pivoted away to the bathroom.
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Who would have thought that sequels are harder to write than your very first book? I wouldn't! I thought that it would be just as simple as continuing where I left off with "the Change". How naiv was I? I am very nervously awaiting your review/comments and suggestions. How do you like the story so far? Picture on the side - the very first cover of The Monarch (Jonathan Graves).
Give me some love (comment, vote, fan) so that I know I haven't disappointed you so far.