Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I rolled over in bed with a groan.

A foreign sort of grogginess weighed my limbs down and coated my ribs in lead. I must’ve worked my behind off during tryouts. 

Warmth tickled my cheek. There was something strange about it, but I didn’t have the energy to figure it out. There was also something wrong with my sheets. They were the nice ones from Westwood Rack, but right now they felt like straw. And where were my blankets? My pillows? My lavender sleep spray?

The memory of last night crashed down on me. Not gentle like the stars that swept me away, but brutal like the cliffside that claimed my life.

No, it wasn’t the fall that killed me…

There had been hands at my back. I remembered now with astounding clarity.

I had been murdered.

The truth forced my eyes open. I shot upright and immediately clutched my head as the world began to spin. The swaying grass mocked me as I turned and vomited white foam.

So gross.

Wiping my mouth on the back of my hand, I stood and immediately began to wobble like some kind of baby deer. 

So, I definitely wasn’t in my bed.

Thankfully, I recognized my surroundings. The clearing, with its half circle of trees, ringed by clusters of boulders with large, flat spots perfect for draping blankets across, used to be a popular spot back in high school. 

There were still dark patches in the grass from old bonfires.

Even more perplexing, I was wearing the same clothes I’d fallen down the cliffside in, sans my left shoe. Only I was free of injuries. In fact, now that my head had stopped spinning, I felt amazing.

I was alive, but… I had died. My final breath whooshed through my lips, spiraling into a star speckled sky. A person doesn’t forget something like that.

Come to think of it, I couldn’t remember what happened afterwards. There was this cavernous dark spot where the memory should’ve been.

Just to make sure this wasn’t the afterlife or some the result of, like, some kind of roofie, I patted myself down and took inventory of my body. 

My fingers stopped short of my burn scar.

It was this mottled thing that took up the crown of my shoulder. Over the years the color lightened, but there was no mistaking it for what it was. Sometimes it would become raised, angry as if the memory of what happened bothered more than just my mind.

I couldn’t see much of my scar anymore. Covering it was a handprint of gold. Even in the sunlight I was lost in the way it shimmered. The liquid metal hadn’t just been painted onto my skin. I ran my fingers over it and sucked in a breath. 

Something in my chest squirmed excitedly in response.

I stopped breathing. It didn’t matter if my heart stopped again, because this couldn’t be reality. This–this was not possible. 

Not for someone like me, someone without a wolf. 

It was pure legend. 

A goddess mark.

My thoughts launched into a series of tumbling passes. The Goddess brought me back. The proof of it was permanently gilded onto my body. It was her hand–her touch–that drew me back from death's embrace. 

Me! Why me? I had no clue, but my life was going to change. 

A giddy smile crept across my face. I likely looked insane, but there wasn’t anyone out here to see.

A foul slurry of voices bubbled in my head. Every snide comment about my lack of a wolf. Every insult whispered to me over my relationship. No one would be able to complain about Kota wasting his time with a wolf-less girl.

I wouldn’t need a wolf. Not with this.

“Who’s over there? Show yourself, wolf.” A male voice called out.

Panic seized the rest of the air still swirling in my lungs. Half a minute later two male wolves appeared, eyes already zeroed in on where I stood.

The one on the left was broad shouldered and covered in tattoos.  A skull and cross bones were inked below his right eye. My stomach clenched hard at the sight of it. He definitely didn’t look like an omega. 

He was one of Roman’s uncles men.

The other had shaggy blonde hair and freckles that made his skin look sunkissed.

That one was Sebastians.

Acting on instinct I clasped my shoulder. My hand covered most of the mark. The strap of my sports bra would have to do the rest. In my state it wasn’t at all hard to believe I’d been injured. I needed to get back to Elena’s and tell her mom. Then I needed to find Kota.

They looked at one another. The tatted one rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his chest, immediately bored with the situation. 

“Chloe? Chloe Clark?” The blonde one said, dumbfounded. “What are you doing out here? You… look like shit.”

Genius, this one. 

“Gee, thanks. I’m just out here enjoying nature.” I nearly put my hands on my hips, but remembered I needed to keep my shoulder covered. Exasperated, I huffed. “If you used your brain instead of your muscles you’d realize I’m lost. I’m also hungry and tired, if that matters. Care to point me back to civilization so I can be on my merry way?”

They looked at one another again.

Something in me pulled tight, like a string drawn too far. It wrapped around my gut in a hushed warning. Well, that was new.

“Is there something I don’t know?” I asked sharply.

Sebastian’s guy, who I now recognized from the high-school lacrosse team but conveniently forgot his name, winced. 

“Ah,” he scratched the back of his neck, intentionally flexing his muscles. “I’m sorry, but with your history of shooting the messenger I’d rather let you find out from someone else.” He looked at the other guy hesitantly.

The dark-eyed male stared me down, a mountain of ink and barely suppressed aggression. His eyes briefly flicked to my midsection. “I hit back.”

“I expected as much,” I sneered. “Just show me the way already.”

Sebastian’s guy turned to offer me a stiff smile. “Come on, Chloe. If we hurry we’ll get back before lunch.”

“An escort. I should feel so lucky.”

After two hours of hiking my neighborhood was finally in sight. I nearly collapsed with relief. My Goddess mark started growing brighter, the gold shimmering like a dang beacon, as if it wanted to be praised. And that was in broad daylight.

Kota’s truck was in the driveway next door, but not Elena’s green Volvo. They probably took it to go and look for me. It had been a whole twenty-four hours since I vanished. They must’ve been worried sick. That chipped away at some of my irritation.

Taking the steps two at a time, I rushed in the front door, almost forgetting to close it behind me.

“Elena? I thought I told you–” I stopped short at the steady clack of footsteps coming from the kitchen. Half a second later Elena’s face, only three decades older, appeared around the corner.

The apron secured tightly around her waist was pristine. It was also the daffodil yellow, white-lace trimmed apron she had ordered two days ago. It must have arrived early.

Her mouth popped open and the phone she held to her ear slipped from her fingers, clattering onto the carpet. 

A hoard of emotions flashed across her face and I catalogued each one.

Shock, confusion, relief, and fury.

A sinking feeling tore at my gut.

“You.” Thin brows smashed together and her voice thinned. Leaving the phone behind she stormed over and grabbed me by the arm. 

My teeth slammed together. 

“You have some serious–serious–explaining to do showing back up here. I don’t even know what to say to you right now. After everything this family has done for you, to up and leave the way that you did–”

Her voice became a buzz in my ears.

What the hell was she talking about? I just came back from the dead. I was just murdered. I didn’t need this.

I dropped my hand, the glow of my Goddess mark now reflected on Mrs. Davenport's face. The earlier tirade she’d been going on slipped from her lips, vanishing like smoke. It should’ve hurt the way her jaw unhinged, but she was too enamored at my shoulder to notice.

“You,” her voice held a reverence I had never heard before. The voice of someone who struck oil beneath their house. Her acrylic tipped fingers pressed against her lips as she babbled, “How? How, you? Why? I don’t–I’ve never seen–” A breath whooshed out of her. “A Goddess mark. A true Goddess mark.” 

Eyes the same blue-grey as Elena’s darkened with an emotion that crafted the blueprints of every nightmare I’d ever had. Hunger.

Her fingers twitched on my arm. There was an urgency to her hushed words, as if she could feel the invisible enemies closing in. “We need to go to the Alpha.”

“But Kota and Elena–”

Her eyes turned to steel. “They can wait. This can’t. We’re leaving. Now.”

Halfway through being dragged to the front door I dug my feet into the carpet. “Can I at least change my clothes and put on some shoes?”

I was shoved into the car like a woman guilty of murder. 

The receptionist at town hall was kind enough to find me a pair of sandals. How she managed that I wasn’t sure. I laughed quietly at the thought of some anxious intern scurrying around the office barefoot.

Mrs. Davenport turned to glare at me over her shoulder. “Mind your manners, and keep that covered. The Alpha won’t want everyone knowing right away.”

Her chin lifted a little at that.

Beta Ryan stormed into the maze of cubicles and flashy offices, his oxfords slapping against the tiled floor. I had only seen the man in person a handful of times, and only from a distance. There was a growing knot in my stomach at his appearance. 

He was an imposing man with a harsh, grim face. Even in a business suit, there was no mistaking the wolf that lived beneath his skin.

I straightened my spine and stuffed my fear down when he ushered us to a meeting room hidden behind a door with one of those scanner locks that required a badge to open.

He gestured to the long, rectangular table claiming the center of the room, but his eyes were glued firmly to my goddess mark. “You may take a seat. Mr. Eastwood will be with us shortly.” 

The pressure in the room changed drastically, and my ears popped as the pack Alpha’s voice rumbled down the hall.

“Once I run for Governor it’s crucial I have her on my team. Offer her a higher salary, she’s worth it. How she managed to save Byron Graves reputation after that fiasco with his brother I’ll never know. Let’s make this happen, Ethan.”

He pocketed his phone as he entered, his broad shoulders a couple inches shy of the doorframe. Immediately, Elena’s mother stood and dragged me up with her. She made the typical gesture of submission, but I refused to bow my head.

It was bad enough that everyone cherry picked when they wanted to treat me like a wolf. This was one thing I wouldn’t give.

Alpha Christian pinned me in place with a single, calculating look. He didn’t flinch at the state of me. “Chloe Clark, is it? My assistant says you are wolfless, per your past medical records. I would appreciate it if you confirmed this for me.”  

I tried not to run my fingers through my tangled hair or do anything else that would make my irritation so obvious. 

“Yes, I was born without a wolf spirit.”

The Alpha digested my answer, his eyes narrowing a fraction as they flicked over my torn, bloody clothing. They were the same sapphire as Sebastians, and I hated the effect they had on me. 

It was a small crumb of mercy that he wasn’t here to see how atrocious I looked.

Alpha Christian remained standing, his hands planted firmly on the table. I noted the ring on his finger–college graduation–and tried to picture an older version of Sebastian standing in his place. 

“Tell me everything you remember.” His jaw worked, as if he were already tasting my confession, ready to swallow the truth whole.

I reached deep inside, to a version of myself I kept tucked away. The muscles in my body eased, and my shoulders dropped from their tense position. Leaning forward, I placed my elbows on the table and rested my chin in my hands, then I brushed the hair back from my face and grimaced, confusion tightening my eyes and mouth.

“I was walking back from cheer tryouts when I thought I saw something in the woods,” I placed my face in my hands and groaned. “Naturally, I was stupid and went to see what it was. I took a few steps too far, and I didn’t see the cliff–” The wince that scrunched my face up was authentic. I would never forget that pain.

The Alpha drank in the details I offered him, taking several seconds to contemplate before responding. 

“The few goddess touched in the past have found themselves with the mark only after experiencing death.” His gaze hardened, “You can see why we do not want this information getting out to the public, yes?”

It takes me a split-second to choke out, “Of course.” 

He tapped his finger against the table. “You may continue.”

I squirmed in my seat. “I don’t remember anything beyond falling and …dying. The next thing I know it’s the next morning and there’s a handprint on my shoulder.”

“The next morning?” He said with a quirk of his brow. “You have been missing for seven days, Ms. Clark.”

My ears started to ring, or maybe that was Mrs. Davenport's shrill voice. I began to shake my head, but stopped when bits of dirt started scattering onto the table.

“No, that can’t be right. What’s today’s date?” I asked, almost frantic.

“The twenty-eighth.”

I had no clue who responded, because the ringing in my ears had turned to full blown screaming.

I was gone for seven days.