Shifted Fate (The Wolves of Forest Grove Book 1) Read online

“I’m going to fix your mistake,” Ryland said, and I allowed myself to breathe. They hadn’t heard. And if they had, they attributed it to fluxing wood in the cold.

  There was a strange scuffling sound and a grunt. My heart stopped. “Make sure she’s here at mid-day tomorrow. I’ll call in the favor.”

  With his voice strained as though there was a boot on his throat, Jared replied in a hiss, “You don’t need to—”

  “That’s an order,” his uncle all but shouted, and the sound of his echoing voice burrowed itself into the marrow of my bones. A cool sweat broke out along the back of my neck, raising the small hairs there and setting every inch of me on high alert.

  Why did he want me to be here at high noon? What was he going to do to me?

  Oh my god.

  Oh my god.

  I retreated on my hands and knees, trying to quiet my breaths as I silently turned the doorknob tucked myself into the bathroom, careful not to make a sound as I closed the door behind me.

  Downstairs, I heard the front door slam and I scrambled to my feet to look out the bathroom window, watching as Ryland stalked out onto the dirt lawn. My breath clouded the glass and my fingers shook as I clutched the sill to steady myself.

  He turned back, his head snapping up as though he already knew exactly where I was—that I would be watching. His glowing orange eyes met mine and I gasped, throwing myself away from the window. My foot caught on the bathmat and I tripped backwards, falling hard into the edge of the tub with an oomf, the breath violently expelled from my lungs.

  A loud knocking came at the door and I scrambled back, thoroughly shaken.

  “Allie?” Jared’s voice came through the thin wooden door. “Allie, are you okay?”

  It took me a second to get my breath back, my chest tight and burning from the lack of air. “Yeah,” I said. “Just tripped. I’m fine.”

  “Are you hurt?”

  “No,” I rushed to say, my mind still whirring. “I’m good.”

  I looked at the door as though I could see Jared through the wood panel. I could imagine him standing there on the other side, at war with himself. Needing to follow the order of his uncle, but also wanting to save me from whatever fate the man had devised. With bated breath I waited for him to make up his mind, my heart in my throat.

  “When you’re finished,” he said finally. “I need to talk to you.”

  I bowed my head. “I’m really tired,” I lied. “Can we talk in the morning?”

  A pause.

  “Yeah, Allie. Of course.”

  “’Night, Jared.”

  “Goodnight. See you in the morning.”

  My eyes stung and it felt like someone had shoved a bucket of razor blades down my throat. I held back until I heard his footsteps move away from the door to allow the first of the tears to fall. Jared wouldn’t be seeing me in the morning.

  I’d already be gone.

  15

  I waited until I was certain they were both asleep. It took a lot longer than I thought it would. They stayed up conversing in rough whispers for hours before I heard their heavy footsteps ascend the stairs and enter their bedrooms.

  Funny, I’d been here for days now and I still had yet to see much of the house. I hadn’t seen the inside of either of their rooms. And other than the laundry area, I hadn’t explored much downstairs, even though there were several other doors leading to god knew where.

  And I hadn’t seen Clay’s shop, either.

  I debated going to have a peek inside before I left but thought better of it. I needed to get away as quickly and quietly as I could. Knowing my luck, if I tried to go into his shop, I’d end up knocking over a bin full of ratchets or falling into a bike he’d just finished decaling.

  No. It wasn’t worth the risk.

  I finished shoving the last of my things from the bathroom into my bag and moved into the spare room I’d been using as a bedroom since I arrived.

  Could that really only have been days before? It seemed like so much had happened in such a short time. It could have been weeks instead—even a month.

  I steeled myself as I shoved the phone charger Jared had loaned me into the pack. I’d find a way to pay him back for it, or I’d buy a new one and give this one back when I saw him at school.

  I gritted my teeth together. I’d hardly thought this through.

  Of course, I’d still have to see Jared at school. He could still try to convince me to come back. And then there was the chance that whatever Ryland had planned for me wouldn’t be stopped or even staved off just because I’d decided to leave of my own volition.

  But it was worth a shot, wasn’t it? Maybe once I’d gone—once I’d been removed from the equation Jared and Clay would be off the hook. Ryland would change his mind about whatever he had planned, and we could all just go back to our lives.

  Maybe.

  It was better than doing nothing.

  Ever since I heard what Ryland said down in the living room when he thought I wasn’t listening, I’d been eager to get the fuck out of dodge. My first instinct was to run. Which was strange for me.

  I was a fighter. I’d wanted to run when dad was sick, but I hadn’t. I’d wanted to give in and go crawling back to my aunt uncle—or to tell Viv and Layla the truth and beg them to take me in after my first few weeks in the blind out in the woods. But I didn’t.

  I fought.

  I kept fighting.

  I didn’t give up.

  But this…

  This was different. I didn’t know what would happen to Jared and Clay if they decided not to allow Ryland to do whatever it was he had planned for me, and I had this sneaking feeling that they wouldn’t. That Jared at least wouldn’t stand by while Ryland…

  While Ryland what…?

  Bit me?

  Would he really do that?

  Surely, he wouldn’t kill me.

  Then what?

  I remembered Jared telling me about witches and vampires and fae and wondered what sort of powers they had—or if they had any powers at all. If there were witches, then I had to assume there were spells.

  Was that it then? Did he plan to call in a favor with a witch? To put a spell on me?

  My stomach flipped and I shouldered my heavy pack and crept from the room, creeping on my sock feet past Jared’s room first, and then Clay’s, where I could hear him snoring softly through the door. His door was open just a crack and unable to help myself, I paused, squinting through the slice of open air between the two chunks of wood.

  The angle was just right for me to see him atop a double bed, laying on his back with his mouth slightly ajar—in nothing but a pair of loose boxers. The moonlight streaming in from the window to his right painted his strong features in shades of brilliant white and darkest gray. Making him look as though he could be hewn from stone.

  He didn’t look peaceful, not even in sleep. There was a crease in his brow and where his arm rested atop his stomach, I could see that his hand was slightly fisted, as though he anticipated an attack.

  I wondered what he could be dreaming about.

  Before I could wonder any more, a creak from behind me stole my attention and a sharp gasp escaped my lips. I whirled around, but there wasn’t anyone there. It was enough to make me get moving, though, rushing now to put distance between myself and the wolves who’d taken me in.

  I allowed myself a momentary pause when I finally made it outside and down the porch steps, onto the dirt yard. I turned to look back at the slumbering cabin crouching against the tall pines rising to brush the navy sky. The night was still, and the only sounds were the long chirps of crickets in the grass and the ominous rustle of leaves.

  Closing my eyes, I tore myself away and set off. I didn’t look back again. I couldn’t—afraid that if I did, I would lose my nerve entirely and end up going back inside.

  I walked numbly over the dead leaves and bed of pine needles; head bent as I ran through my limited options for places to go. The moon-dappled canopy above
created flickering shadows on the ground, keeping me on edge. At least the big, round moon made it easier to see. Gratefully, I didn’t need to use my phone torch to be able to avoid the rounded tree roots curling up from underground, or the pinecones and branches scattered like discarded toys over the rough earth.

  The fresh dewy smell of the forest in the hours before dawn kept my head clear as I walked, still unsure of my direction. I was used to the sounds of the forest at night, but now they carried with them an edge they hadn’t before.

  Was the scrabble of animal claws on frayed tree bark actually a beast lingering in the shadows? Was the hum of insects actually the buzzing of magic from a witch’s spell? I shivered and it wasn’t because of the cold.

  I’d been right. Now that I knew, I couldn’t unknow. And fuck if I wished I could. Digging in my pack, I procured the sole bottle of water I’d brought with me and took a small sip, not wanting to guzzle it all and leave myself without any to drink in case I wound up staying in the woods tonight.

  I realized the direction I was going when the landscape began to change. Trees leaned drunkenly against one another, and others lay fallen against the earth. Uprooted tree bases showed their unmentionables above ground. And the ground itself was not the carpet of nettles and moss and leaves it was ten feet before. It was dirt, loose, and squishy underfoot.

  This was the edge of the mudslide. Which meant that dad’s blind—or where it once sat was just up ahead. Except I knew it wouldn’t be there, instead of moving northwest to where it should be, I moved south, following the flow of churned earth down the mountain to where it would have been carried.

  I’d been wanting to go back—to see that there was truly nothing else to be salvaged. I wanted to see the state of the blind myself. Jared had said it was completely destroyed. But was it still salvageable? If it was, it would save me the massive headache of figuring out where to go.

  The sickly stink of rotting wood in a nearby marshy patch made my nose wrinkle as I stepped around it and peered through two steepled trees ahead. The unmistakable snap of fabric in the cool autumn breeze drew me nearer.

  As I passed through the natural arch, I saw it, instantly deflating.

  Jared had been right.

  The old hunting blind was vertical, sticking up like a sore thumb from the earth where half of it was entirely buried. It leaned against a wide birch tree, coils of white bark fraying this way and that.

  The canvas wasn’t just torn now, either, it was in tatters like frayed ribbons flapping in the wind.

  Well fuck.

  Readjusting my pack, I sighed, going to have a quick look to make sure nothing else could be salvaged. The contents of the blind were entirely missing when I kneeled against the damp ground to peer beneath the flaps. I thought I could see the edge of one my old textbooks sticking up from the ground, but it wouldn’t be worth the trouble of digging up. It would be too damaged to use now.

  I’d been hoping at least my camp stove had survived. I could get another one relatively cheap, but a breakfast of warm oatmeal would have been nicer than the single banana and half a loaf of bread I’d pilfered from Jared’s place.

  The snap of a branch behind me made me whirl around, my heart jumping into my throat. I scanned the area but found nothing. I looked over the ground but saw only the unmistakable press of enormous paw prints in the upturned dirt.

  They had to be Jared’s from when he’d come back to get my things. But as I leaned in closer to inspect the nearest one, tracing the edge with my finger, I realized they looked much fresher than a few days old.

  Had he come back here again?

  My lungs seized. Or were they another wolf’s? Rylands?

  I jolted back to my feet and swallowed, glancing around frantically now.

  I couldn’t stay in the woods tonight. What was I thinking?

  With a shake of my head, I turned south, intending to go straight to the main road and make my way into town. I’d go to the bookshop. I could sleep for a couple hours and then leave before daybreak.

  “I knew you’d come back here.”

  My body went rigid. A cold feeling of dread slithered up my spine, forcing the hairs on the back of neck to standing. My lips parted in a silent gasp.

  It couldn’t be.

  Unable to conceal the tremor in my fingertips, I shoved my hand deep into my pocket and kept the other one tightly clasped around the strap of my pack as I turned. “Devin?” I asked incredulously, praying I was dreaming, or hallucinating, or anything other than the truth. “What are you doing out here?”

  The other question I didn’t ask was whispered in the back of my mind. And how did you know I’d been here?

  I’d never told him about the hunting blind in the woods. He thought I went back to Portland every night after work just like everyone else, hadn’t he?

  His green eyes were shadowed in the dark, and beneath the heavy leather coat he wore, I could see that he was shirtless. I backed up a step, noticing too how he was barefoot.

  There was a connection forming at the edges of my mind, but it wasn’t fully formed yet. I couldn’t quite piece it together, but I could feel it in my bones.

  There was something very wrong here.

  “Did you really think I didn’t know?”

  My breaths were coming faster now. I wished he would step into the light so I could see him—his expression. As he was now, cloaked in shadow, he seemed even more menacing than that night weeks before.

  “Know what?” I asked foolishly, knowing exactly what he was getting at, but not wanting to admit to the lie. He didn’t like it when I lied to him—or more accurately, when he thought I was lying to him.

  With inhuman speed, Devin cleared the space between us in the span of a single breath. My jacket was fisted in his hand, pulling me to him, forcing my head up to look into his furious gaze. “Don’t lie to me,” he growled.

  “Devin, stop,” I managed. “Y-You’re hurting me.”

  His knuckles were digging into my chest and it was beginning to be difficult to breathe. I fisted my own hand, ready to swing. “Please, let go.”

  He did, and I unclenched my fist, my broken breaths sawing in and out through chattering teeth.

  He straightened his jacket and pushed back his dark hair. “I didn’t mean—” he started but stopped himself. “You just…you just make me so angry sometimes.”

  Yeah, I fucking noticed, I wanted to say. I have the bruises to prove it.

  I could feel the beginning of that fluttering sensation in my chest. The cold lick of anxiety like an ice cube down my neck. I grit my teeth and forced lungs full of air into my chest to quell the feeling. If I started hyperventilating right now, it would only make matters worse.

  I was alone in the woods with Devin Wright. My ex. The guy who only weeks ago had wrapped his hands around my neck and squeezed, the one who’s knuckles rapped against my chest, leaving stippled purple bruises in their wake.

  “But that’s okay,” he went on, his eyes unfocused as he spoke, gesturing wildly with his hands in a way that made me flinch back every time he raised them. “It’s okay because you’re my mate. Once the bond is made, you’ll belong to me forever.”

  I shrank back, my eyes widening. “What are you talking about?”

  Devin stepped in again and I readied myself to swing and run. If I thought angry Devin was scary, crazy-talking Devin was even more terrifying. “You aren’t making any sense.”

  Devin snarled. “You smell like him,” he barked. “When you’re mine, you’ll only bare my scent. You won’t even look at another—”

  I swung, decking him hard in the nose. He stumbled back and I saw the arc of red spray as blood poured from his face. My daddy taught me how to punch, but he forgot to mention how much it fucking hurt.

  With my fist smarting, I tore off into the trees, discarding my pack without a second thought to gain the speed I would need to outrun a six-foot-four Devin.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  I d
ucked under a low-hanging branch, moving through a spider’s web and grimacing as I slid in the mud. I almost fell but caught myself at the last second.

  A bellowing roar behind me made my entire body scream, the burst of adrenaline setting fire to my nerve endings as my legs pumped harder, faster, zigzagging downhill.

  My hair whipped around my face, blinding me as I craned my neck to look back. He wasn’t there.

  No. no. NO.

  I took a giant lungful of air, readying myself to scream as loud and as long as I could. But the tears stinging at the corners of my eyes were there because I knew no matter how loud I screamed, this far out of town—this far up the mountain, no one would be able to hear me.

  Loud snorting breaths from behind and the unmistakable sound of thumping footfalls were the last things I heard before a hard object bashed into the back of my skull and the lights in my world went out.

  16

  My hand slid over damp, bumpy stone. The jangle of metal was loud in my ears as I moved. I winced as I attempted to lift my head from the hard, cold surface beneath it. The ache in the back of my skull radiating out over the entire surface of my scalp in a thudding, stabbing migraine.

  The scents of stagnant air and musky animal fur clogged my nostrils, mixed with the unmistakable tang of body odor that I was afraid was my own. A moan eeked out of my mouth before I could contain it and I reached a hand up to clutch the front of my skull in an attempt to stop the pounding pain. But my hand came up short, jerked to a stop only a few inches from my forehead. The bite of unyielding metal against my wrist made me snap into wakefulness.

  I scrambled to sit up, disoriented with enormous black blobs crowding in at the edges of my vision. The world tipped up and the floor fell away as a wave of vertigo claimed me, forcing me to fall back onto the cold stone, gagging as a wave of nausea twisted my stomach.

  My stomach heaved, but it had nothing to expel. My sides ached at the pressure until it was finally lifted and the dry heaving stopped, leaving me to shake uncontrollably against the stone.

  There was little light in the space, but it was enough to see by as my vision cleared. A single kerosene lantern sat ten feet away atop a crate. Beside that was my pack, open and spilled onto the stone.