Page 5 of Blood and Magic
But my question had gotten Ava’s attention, and she raised an eyebrow at me.
I ignored that, too.
Sol went through the rest of the wedding plans, and when it was over, we gathered around our family table for dinner.
For the entire night, I tried to hide my relief at hearing that Guin and Van weren’t together, even as it mixed with an excited trepidation of seeing Van again after all these years.
CHAPTER 2
Vermillion
Living was bullshit.
I didn’t use to think that, but ever since I’d died and come back to life, finding joy in the mundane had become an impossible task.
“Your heart sounds good,” my sister, Morwyn, said, pressing the stethoscope to my chest. “Lungs are fine. You’re completely healthy.”
I didn’t feel healthy. Hell, I barely felt anything anymore. I’d say I was depressed, but such a minuscule term didn’t cover it.
Last November, the bloodsucking vampires, aka the Bloody Scorpions MC, had abducted Sol in retaliation for her mating to Orion. If there was one thing all shifters hated, it was a nasty vampire nest close to our homestead. And fucking with one person’s mate meant the entire weight of the pack came with a vengeance. We went after her, and in the process, I took two sets of fangs straight to the neck.
It had taken all the magic in the pack to bring me back to life. Or, at least, they’d managed to get my heart beating again. But knowing there was nothing on the other side, no heavenly gates and no ancestors waiting for me, put things in a different perspective. I should have been grateful to have every damned day on this great earth, but things were different now.
I was different now.
My wolf had died and come back darker…angrier…more willing to snarl and tear into someone.
“Good,” I said, hopping off the table to put my shirt back on. “Clean bill of health. You can stop annoying me with your relentless questions.”
Morwyn rolled her eyes. As a fully trained medical doctor and the pack’s resident healer, she saw with more than just her eyes. She had a special connection to the alpha that allowed her unfettered access to the magical ties between us. When someone joined the pack, they made a blood bond to Kodiak, and through that supernatural tie, Morwyn could channel her energy at will to heal us.
It was this energy that had brought me back to life.
“Mill,” she said, her features softening, reminding me of our mother. “I’m worried about you. Caelum says you’re not eating. You’re losing weight.”
I scoffed and rubbed a hand over my face. “Our little brother is too busy fucking his way through the homestead to know what I’m doing.”
“You look like hell, big brother.” She crossed her arms, her brown curly hair sticking out at odd angles around her head. “It took you nearly fifteen minutes to change last moon.”
I’d been a member of the Helena, Montana shifter pack my entire life, and eight years ago, I’d been patched into the council…officially made a member of the Royal Bastards MC. We weren’t like shifters from fairy tales, unless you count the fucked-up German ones. We only turned once a month, when the call of the full moon activated the magic in our blood and forced us to change. We couldn’t turn into our furry counterparts at will, nor would we want to. The shift was painful and difficult and took upward of five minutes for a normal shifter to fully complete. We could accomplish partial changes at will: growing claws, extending our fangs, and letting the inner beast take over our vision. But a complete transformation took place only once a month.
The lore was true about one thing, though. We hated vampires with a bloodthirsty passion, and in Montana, any vampire that passed through became part of the Bloody Scorpions. They ran the territory to the east of the Missouri, and up until six months ago, they’d been in league with the Vanderbilts. Those rich motherfuckers had bought up everything to the south and west, damn near controlling the entire state.
“I’m fine,” I said, trying (and failing) to keep my tone light. It came out more in a snarl than I’d intended. I cleared my throat and tried again. “I’m fine.”
“Look, I’ve been doing some research.” She glanced down at the ground and rubbed a hand over her neck. “I don’t know how we brought you back, and I’m worried we might have done lasting damage.”
Yeah, no shit.
Everyone had moments that marked a definitive before and after. Mine was that night. Before, I’d been fun. Jovial. Generally happy with my life and those in it. I loved being a part of the pack, and I loved everyone in it like family. Our parents had died during a Scorpion raid on RBMC territory, so I’d been in charge of my little sister and brother ever since. I took that responsibility seriously.
After? Temper meet short fuse. Anything could set me off and routinely did. I snarled at cubs and later regretted it. I’d had to take a two-week probation from patrol because I’d pissed off our sergeant at arms, Moose, by punching another male when he’d gotten too close to a female who didn’t want his attention.
I mean, what was the fucking point of any of this?
We were born. We lived meaningless lives. And then we died. The end.
“I’m fine,” I growled, my wolf perilously close to the surface. I felt the shift in my eyes, my canines extending, my fingernails turning into sharp points capable of slicing and dicing.
