Dark Lies (Magic Side: Wolf Bound Book 3)
Dark Lies: Chapter 25

Savannah

Twenty minutes later, everyone was cold, sodden, and in desperate need of towels and a warm bath. Lake Michigan, even in the late summer, was pretty chilly.

I wrapped my arms around myself and looked at Sam, teeth chattering. “I think maybe we should have thought this through—no towels.”

“You’re the towel. Just get out, shift, and shake off. They’ve got the bonfire going, so we can dry by that.”

Bonfire? Oh, right.

I sniffed the air, which was redolent with the scent of burning wood. Several types. Elm and maple?

Man, my senses were getting better, or at least more finely tuned.

Sam heaved her naked ass out of the water and quickly shifted. I glanced up apprehensively at the wolf. The water was cold, but there was a bit of a breeze, and Sam looked pretty bedraggled.

She gave me a devilish look and shook herself off, spraying me with a shower of icy droplets. I screamed and dropped back down in the water—which, granted, made no sense, but somehow, drops on exposed skin felt a lot worse than the lake itself.

Jaxson swam over. “You okay?”

I dipped down to my chin in the water out of instinct. “Cold. Just trying to decide if I’d rather face the night air and shifting again or die of hypothermia.”

He chuckled. “I’ll help you shift.”

“I hate how easy you make it. Why can’t it be natural?”

“It will be. With practice.”

I sighed and looked at the shore.

Jax coughed. “I’m sorry about Eric—the silver wolf. That was a nasty trick to play on you on your first run.”

“Don’t worry about it. This was actually a lot of fun. And I don’t think he meant for this to happen.”

“It won’t happen again. My wolves will respect you.”

I shook my head, remembering the way Regina had spoken to me. “I’d rather earn it than you command it, Jax.”

“I have no doubt that you will.” He heaved himself halfway out of the water and looked back with a wry smile. “Especially now that you’ve beaten the alpha in a race.”

I put my hand over my face. “I’m not going to live this down, am I?”

“Not a chance. Now get out. It’s past time to gather at the bonfire.” Jaxson leapt up onto the stone, and in a single fluid motion, he shifted into a wolf again.

I was sad not to have a longer view.

I’m perfectly happy, Wolfie chirped.

Fair enough. I admired the massive silver and brown wolf out of the corner of my eyes. His fur practically shone in the starlight. To be fair, he was a damn fine-looking wolf.

Was I really thinking of a wolf as attractive? Shaking my head at how far down the rabbit hole I’d fallen, I clambered out of the lake, and then, with Jaxson’s help, I shifted.

A quick shake sprayed water in a fine mist around us. Unfortunately, I was still pretty damp and chilled to the bone.

Jaxson gave me a look. Let’s go.

Instead, my wolf glanced out at the lake as more werewolves climbed out and shifted. Give me a minute.

Jax followed my gaze to the pale blond man treading water at the back of the pack. The douche who had tricked me—Eric, apparently.

Jaxson grunted. Find me when you’re done.

I waited until Eric was the only one left and padded down to the shore.

He looked up guiltily from the edge of the seawall. “I’m really sorry, Savannah, I was just joking around. I didn’t think you would take me seriously or be able to keep up—”

My wolf put our paw on his forehead and gently but firmly pushed him down into the water.

“I won’t do it again, it was poor judg—”

There was a brief gurgle as his head plunged beneath the gentle waves. When she let him back up, she—we—gave him the look.

Blondie froze.

I’d never really understood the look and its effect on people. It was just something I’d had growing up. But I knew it for what it was now: weird-ass wolf voodoo.

I guess it always had been. At least I knew exactly what to do to put him in his place.

He slunk down in the water to the level of his chin. “I think I’m going to wait here in the water a little longer.”

We nodded, removed our paw from his head, and sauntered off.

There were a few large fires burning further along the point, and we padded toward them across the dark grass.

Jaxson was waiting, as was Sam. Werewolves were everywhere. The pack had formed a ring around a pair of roaring bonfires. Most were lounging around in wolf form, though a few were still human.

Beyond the fire, three burly werewolves stood in the shadows of the trees—Jaxson’s guards. I got the sense they were watching for interlopers. Apparently, this was a werewolf-only event. Not that anyone—well, other than Casey—would be crazy enough to barge in on a pack of wolves.

A pang of loss cut through me, and suddenly, everything I’d gained seemed a little hollow.

The look of horror on Casey’s face had wounded me just as deeply as the Soul Knife had. Would that cut heal with time or remain oozing and dripping?

Your crazy cousin will probably come around, Wolfie said, somewhat reluctantly.

In my heart, I knew she was right. Casey wasn’t entirely lost to me. But I knew our relationship would never be the same. Not after what I’d done to his mother. Not with what I was. He might hold his tongue, but I would always know what his beliefs were.

Maybe, with time, my aunt and uncle would even accept me. But there would always be prejudice, a desire to cure me and bind my wolf and turn back time so that things were like they once were.

That was one thing I knew I could never let happen.

Damn straight, sister, Wolfie said.

Jaxson led me toward the fire. Sitting werewolves rose and moved out of our way as we approached, clearing a spot for us close to the flames. I felt self-conscious walking beside Jaxson. He loomed over me, and every step betrayed his power. No wonder they all treated him like a king.

My earlier confidence left me, and I felt like an imposter, a hanger-on. At least it would get me a spot by the fire, and I wasn’t too proud to take it.

We flopped down and basked in the warm glow of the hypnotic flames, and I breathed deeply as the heat began to work its way in beneath my skin. My front was too warm, and my back was too cold, but my wolf and I gave a collective sigh of relief.

After a moment of basking, the hair on my back rose. I glanced behind me. Jaxson was staring back, devouring me with his golden eyes. I couldn’t quite discern his expression, but I got the sense that he hadn’t been able to look away since we’d arrived.

My wolf rolled lazily to the side and stretched out for his benefit. Do you do this every time the pack runs? I asked, using that strange not-quite-telepathy that we shared.

Jaxson gave me a wry look. Not the swimming part.

With a huff of feigned annoyance, I turned my attention to the wolves around us. Those in human form were chatting in low, almost expectant voices. Most were in wolf form—six or seven dozen, in every size and fur color imaginable.

These were my people now, but they weren’t family. Not yet.

The murmur of voices stilled as an expectant hush filled the air. The wolves on the far side of the circle rose and parted as an old woman with a walking stick shuffled out of the shadows and into the firelight. She walked to a spot between the flames and bowed her head to Jaxson. “Alpha.”

Jaxson bowed his head in turn. Grandmother.

She brandished her stick at him. “My grandchildren can call me that. You can’t. Makes me feel old and decrepit. It’s ‘Loremaster.’ My stories are old, not me.”

Something about the exchange told me that it had all been said before. That this, as much as anything, was part of a well-worn ritual.

The loremaster sniffed and gave a filthy look at two shifters whispering on the far side of the circle. She pointed her walking stick. “The gods, bless their teeth, gave us all two forms. One is for talking, while the other is for listening. Which should you be in?”

The couple looked sheepishly at each other, and in a swirl of magic, they transformed into a pair of wolves. The remaining shifters did so as well until after a few moments, the pack was only wolves and one old woman.

She jabbed her walking stick into the ground. “Now is the time for me to talk and for you all to listen. You’re here for a story. But what should I tell?”

A few wolves yipped, though I couldn’t understand what it meant.

The loremaster shook her head, waving her hand. “No, no, those won’t do. I’ve told the story of the Wolf Queen too many times already, and the others aren’t right for a night like tonight.”

She turned to me. The firelight—or perhaps something else—glinted in her eyes. “We have a new wolf among us. We’ll let her decide.”

The ancient woman leaned on her cane as she made her way over to me.

I lowered my head onto my paws and looked around, unsure of what to do. I didn’t know how to speak in wolf, and I didn’t know any wolf stories.

“Bah.” She scoffed. “Of course you do. You might not have grown up in this pack, but you know the stories, if not by their name. The stories are part of us. They make us who we are.”

I blinked in surprise. Apparently, the loremaster could read my thoughts.

The old woman scrunched up her face as she studied mine, then straightened as her expression fell into shadow. “Oh. I see. That story.”

I looked at Jaxson, my head spinning. But I didn’t ask for anything! Or even think it!

The loremaster laughed and waved her hand as she walked back over to the fire. “You don’t need to say anything to ask for a story, silly pup. Your eyes are saying it, your body is saying it, you’re begging for it with every movement you make. I know the story you crave.”

She turned to the assembled werewolves and raised her hands. “I have been asked for a story.”

Silence. Instant, utter silence. Jaxson commanded attention like a general, a king. But this woman demanded absolute stillness with her words—like an actor standing before the opening curtain, the audience hanging in the moment. No one spoke. No one even breathed.

What story had I chosen? The hair on my back rose, and my chest constricted as a slow dread filled me.

The loremaster’s words cut through the air as she haltingly circled the fire. “Our new wolf has asked for a very old story, a story that I have not told for a long time. We are the stories that we tell ourselves. Some we do not like to speak aloud, but we must tell them all the same.”

She spun and looked directly at me with eyes that burned with bright red flames.

“Tonight, I tell the story of the Dark Wolf God.”

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