Page 3 of The Tracker's Secret
What the fuck kind of bitter pill was this?
I jerked out of the chair and stared down at Mom, fists shaking at my sides. She must’ve seen something in my expression because she flinched and pressed her mouth into a thin line, turning her lips white. Without a word, I turned my back on her and walked away.
“Toni, please let me finish,” she begged.
But there was nothing else I needed to hear. It hurt too much to even look at her, so I walked out and faced the mage. He was sitting in the living room, reclined on the sofa, his legs crossed as he hummed a tune I didn’t recognize.
When he saw me, he stared at me from under his round dark glasses and said, “Impressive.”
I frowned at him, unable to make a reply. My mind was too jumbled up with anger and pain to cobble up a proper insult.
Damien Ward, that was what Mom had introduced him as, stood up, his cloak oscillating behind him. Slowly, he reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a business card, and offered it to me. “You will have questions once you relearn how to form words again. Here’s how you can reach me.”
I stared at the card as if touching it would make furry ears spring from the top of my head.
The mage huffed and set the card on the coffee table. “I would suggest that, for the time being, you avoid getting angry, anxious, nervous, or sexually aroused. At least until you learn to control the shift. You wouldn’t want to get a SUD. It’s a bitch having them on your record. Much worse than a DUI.”
As if he’d suggested the exact opposite, blind fury flared in my gut and those gnarly claws made a reappearance, along with a set of major fangs. Shifting Under Duress be damned!
Damien cocked his head to one side and regarded me with pursed lips. After a moment, he waved a hand in the air and a sweet aroma saturated the room and filled my head and lungs with a cloying warmth that made me feel heavy and woozy. My claws and fangs retreated. I blinked several times, feeling disoriented.
“Do you remember shifting?” the mage asked.
Huh? What?
I thought about the question from every angle. Suddenly, the conversation I’d had with Mom came rushing back like a boomerang on steroids. Tears pricked in the back of my eyes as her words played inside my head.
You’re a werewolf, Antonietta. You aren’t Peter’s daughter.
“You shifted,” Damien said. “That’s the reason my spell won’t work anymore. The animal is free. Do you know when it happened?”
I should’ve known.The thought flashed through my head, reminding me that I hadn’t been feeling right lately. My skin had been itching, feeling too small for my body. And my sense of smell... it had always been too keen.
“I... I think so,” I said, trying to keep my anger at bay. This man was saying things I needed to know. “But I don’t remember anything.”
Damien nodded as if that were normal. “This won’t be easy, but you’ll have to learn how to control it. You need someone of your own kind to teach you.”
Your own kind.
My ears started ringing. All my life I’d believed I was something I was not. My entire world was a lie, and my true self something... unknown and terrifying.
“Is there someone who can help you?” the mage asked.
Immediately, my thoughts went to Jake. He was a werewolf. He could teach me. Suddenly, the words he’d told me just yesterday came rushing back to me.“I didn’t want to leave, Toni, but I had to. I made a promise. I owe it to my father, my grandfather, and Neil to pass on our legacy, and with you... that would be impossible.”
My stomach flipped and flopped like a fish. A part of me felt elated. I was a werewolf, which meant I could be with him. There were no obstacles. I could give him children and help his family continue their legacy.
Yet, another part of me shied away from the idea. I wouldn’t know how to raise werewolf children. I didn’t even know if I wanted to have them. Besides, I wasn’t a proper werewolf. Jake wouldn’t want me. He would want someone strong and able, a mate who could stand alongside him to uphold his traditions, and I had no idea how to do that. I wouldn’t make a good mate for him. And I didn’t like the idea of becoming nothing but a puppy factory.
And why the hell was I thinking about Jake right now?!
I pushed the thoughts aside. They were too much to digest, especially when I hadn’t processed the extent of my mother’s betrayal, and when every time I thought about dad my heart ached. He wasn’t my father. Someone else—some man I didn’t know, who might be dead or alive—was responsible for creating me.
And there was more... I was a trackeranda werewolf. How? That was impossible, wasn’t it?
My head pounded as all these ideas swirled around, crashing into each other like balls on a pool table. I pressed my palms against my temples, trying to make it stop.
The mage glanced off to the side and said, “Amalia, do you know someone who can help her?”
