Whiteout (Aurora Sky (44 page)

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Hope(less)

A riveting sweet romance by author Melissa Haag

 

 

It's lonely being different, but Gabby's adapted.
Really. Until she meets werewolf Clay.

Clay is everything she doesn't want.  Unkempt and quiet, he watches her too closely. And yet, if he's everything she doesn't want, why does she need him so much?

Discover werewolves and young women with unexplained ab
ilities in Hope(less).

 

“Gabby, wait,” Sam called.

Hearing him stand and follow me caused my stomach to dip.  My steps slowed for a heartbeat.  Stepping through the door could compromise my wellbeing...but staying inside wouldn't get me answers.  The door
beckoned.  I stepped through onto a packed dirt path and looked around.

The light that spilled from the door illuminated a small area.  The trees that crowded the building left only a small gap of about twenty feet between the treeline and the roofline, wh
ich cast the area in an early dusk.  In the cleared space near the back door, twenty men waited quietly.  I frowned, puzzled.  Something still felt off.  I'd expected to see many more given the rushed Introductions.

Closing my eyes, I breathed deep and foc
used.  Tiny sparks flashed around me in the darkness.  Sam, I saw, stood to my right.  His spark glowed steadily, not blinking at all.  The group of twenty was different.

Some of the werewolves' lights blinked like strobes.  Some faster, some slower.  Some
so slow, I at first thought they might have left.  As I studied them, it began to make sense.  I wasn't seeing werewolves quickly running all over the place, rather an arrhythmic indication of a werewolf's location.  I focused beyond the twenty.  Lights t
oo numerous to count stood out in the darkness.  It would take hours to meet them all.

Had all the prior Introductions been a farce, a game to keep me from running until Sam could arrange the real thing?  How strongly were the Elders determined to see me M
ated?  Would they let me leave unMated?  Had my thoughts of college been a dream?  I struggled with my growing frustration and panic.  No.  Not a dream.  I wouldn't give up.

I opened my eyes already knowing that the group of twenty had doubled.  I studied
their faces and noted more bruising and blood.  Some men dressed in jeans and shirts while others wore clothes too filthy from fighting to identify.  Seeing the filth and blood, I understood why they wanted to rush the Introductions.  Too many werewolves h
ad arrived for this; and the Mating challenges the Elders feared, had begun.

I didn't say anything.  I couldn't.  Anger churned in my stomach at Sam for not telling me.  I felt tricked and yet sad for the men waiting.

“Sam,” I said, turning my gaze on him.
  There was nothing playful in my look.  I wanted to tell him that I would never forgive him for this but knew the werewolves listening would take my words as a rejection.  It would take away what little hope they had facing these numbers.  Instead, I let
my look convey everything I felt.

He lowered his gaze and broke eye contact, something he never did first.  Good.  He knew.

I turned away and studied the growing crowd.  I'd lived among them enough to know not to show intimidation.  They respected strength
.  With their hearing, I didn't need to raise my voice.  Even those still hidden within the trees would hear me.

“No more fighting.  There's no need to wait and fight for your place in tonight's Introduction.  I will meet you all.  Start a line here, and I
'll walk it.  If I am not right for you, there is no need for you to remain after I've passed you.  You may leave and know that I am honored by your presence here tonight.”

Men silently stepped from the trees and moved to create a line as I'd asked.  They
continued to emerge from the woods even as the line extended around the corner.  Because of that, new rows started behind the first line.  The shuffling continued until roughly five hundred gathered.  So many men focused on me, all at the same time, made m
y stomach churn.  If they were human...I suppressed a shudder at the thought.

Ignoring the vast number, I moved toward the first man, nodded stoically, then turned to start the slow walk down the line.  The Elders kept pace with me.  I didn't bother pausin
g to meet anyone's eyes.  Only my scent mattered.

As I'd asked, those without a strong interest stepped out of the line and walked back into the woods.  It allowed those behind them to move forward and take their place.  When I reached the end, I turned ar
ound to walk it again.  I paced the line several times in silence so all would get their fair chance.  As the number remaining decreased, my mood lightened.  Sam made note of names as needed.  Soon only a handful of men remained.

While my future loomed bri
ghter, theirs dimmed.  I nodded solemnly to those remaining and watched them melt back into the trees.  I truly felt for them, but I'd experienced no attraction to any of them—no pull that Sam and other Elders and werewolves had assured me I would feel whe
n—not if—I met the one.  A triumphant smile wanted to break free, but I contained it, not wanting to offend anyone.  Finally, my duty was complete.  I breathed deeply of freedom, ready to go back to my room.

Behind me, the Elders moved, reminding me of the
ir presence.  My mood shifted.  The anger and betrayal from their lack of warning resurfaced.  With a stiff back and tight mouth, I made my way toward the door and the waiting Elders.  I didn't meet any of their eyes.

Sam had hours during the drive to say
something but hadn't, and now all of his secrecy had been for nothing.  I hadn't found a mate.  Did he realize the pointlessness of his gesture?  I seriously doubted telling me in advance would have changed the outcome other than to make me nervous during
the drive up.  That, however, would mean I shouldn't be mad at him so I quickly disregarded the thought.  Honesty was honesty.  He should have told me.

Walking the dirt path, which I realized I'd tread over several times in my socks, I saw a peculiar shado
w on the ground melding with the shadow of the still open door.

I looked up at the space behind the door and saw the flash of eyes just before a man stepped into view.  I froze.  My stomach dropped, and my heart did a strange little flip.  Before I could t
ake my next breath, a shiver ran up my spine and gooseflesh rose on my arms.  My anger spiked, uncontrolled.

“You have got to be kidding,” I whispered to myself without thinking.  I'd been so close to escaping.

His filthy long, dark hair trailed in front
of his eyes and shadowed his face into obscurity.  An old, dull-green army jacket, just as filthy as his hair, hung from his frame while his bare feet shone pale against the black sweats he wore.  I couldn't tell his age, the color of his hair, or the colo
r of his eyes—because of the tangle of hair—but I could see the glint of them as he moved away from the door.

He stalked toward me.  I remained frozen and tried to deny the significance of the encounter as my stomach continued to do crazy little flips.  Ju
st before he reached me, he turned away and walked around the corner of the building, heading not into the woods as the rest had, but to the front of the building.

I stared after him, momentarily confused.  He'd recognized me.  Just as I had him.  Why had
he turned away?  Did it matter?  Move!  Escape before he changed his mind!

Finally, my feet obeyed, and I lurched toward the door.

“Sam, I've more than fulfilled any obligation I had to you or the pack.  I'd like to leave tonight.”  The Elders stepped asid
e before I bowled them over.

I rushed past them, through the Introduction room and into the interior hall.  There I paused to pull off my dirt-caked socks.  Charlene would have me cleaning floors if I walked through the halls in my filthy socks.

Maneuverin
g through the fortuitously quiet and empty halls, I struggled to control
my emotions.  Over the years,
I'd learned control, knowing those around me would be able to smell things like fear, anger, lust, or even sadness.  But tonight all that control evapora
ted.  Anger and fear swamped me.  Anger at Sam for arranging the whole damn thing, and fear that the Elders knew what had just happened.

I'd been so close to freedom.  Sam had set me up, stacking the odds against me with the sheer number of werewolves in a
ttendance.  Why would it have to be the very last one I saw that sent a bolt of lightning right into my stomach?  Was it too much to ask for just one break in my life?

 

 

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Runes

By Ednah Walters

 

 

Someone called out something, but I was busy imagining Mr. Peterson's reaction when he saw his mailbox. He was a big conspiracy theorist. The government and people were always out to get him. He'd believe I deliberately knocked down his stupid mailbox.

“That looks
bad,” Blue Eyes said from behind me, startling me.

“You think?”

He chuckled. “From that snarky comment, you must be okay.”

“Peachy.”

I picked up the mail. He moved closer as he helped, bringing with him a masculine scent hard to describe. It bugged the
crap out of me that I liked it. Worse, the heat from his body seemed to leap through the air and wrap around me in ways I couldn't describe.

My mouth went dry. The instinct to put space between us came from nowhere, but I ignored it. Only cowards ran when
faced with something they didn't understand, and my parents didn't raise one. Still, a delicious shiver shot up my spine, and a weird feeling settled in my stomach.

I waited until I was in control of my emotions before turning to face him. I tried not to
stare at his masculine arms and chest. I really did, but all that tanned skin was so inviting and begging to be ogled. I'd seen countless shirtless guys before. Half the swim team spent time in tight shorts that left very little to the imagination, but the
ir bodies were nothing like his. He must be seriously into working out. No one could be this ripped without hitting the gym daily.

“My face is up here, Freckles.”

My eyes flew to h
is, and heat flooded my cheeks.