CALLUMA lot of little boys idolize superheroes. I’ve always identified more with the villains.It’s not like I had designs on growing up to become some sort of evil mastermind, but some part of me has always recognized that desperate darkness that lurks beneath the surface of the villain in the story. The tortured soul behind the manic façade.Nobody roots for the villain, and nobody has ever rooted for me, either. My stepdad ensured that by painting me as the black sheep of the family from the moment I took my first breath. I was always the problem child, the nuisance he was forced to live with but never wanted. The product of an anonymous hookup that my mother regretted before I was even born, because she met the love of her life when she was six months pregnant with another man’s child. A man I’d never meet, because apparently, he didn’t want me either.Ain’t life a bitch?The villain in the story never comes out on top, but you’ve gotta admire their tenacity. The world’s against
VANESSAI’ve never been a big drinker, but if all alcohol was masked by the taste of cherry Kool-Aid, I’d probably be a lush. I’m a big fan of cherry anything. Cherry lip gloss, cherry gum… even just straight-up maraschino cherries from the garnish tray at the bar where I work. I’m not sure what else is in this jungle juice, but it’s officially my new favorite drink.Vienna has vacated her spot beside me in favor of joining Levi on the other side of the couch, and a blonde guy slips in to steal her place, tapping my cup with his own. “Want a refill?”I turn to meet his hazel eyes, giving a little shake of my head. “Nah, I should probably pace myself,” I say, all too aware of how easily the first half of this drink has gone down. “I’m driving.”“Fair enough,” he replies easily, reclining back on the couch and stretching his arms, not so subtly propping one onto the top of the cushion behind me. It’d be a smooth move if he wasn’t so painfully obvious about it. “I’m Miles, by the way.”“
CALLUM When the party finally starts winding down, Nessa and her friend take off, and I’m oddly disappointed when she goes. Not that I expected her to linger in hopes of an invitation to stay. A lot of girls pull that move at the end of the night, but that doesn’t seem to be Nessa’s M.O., if she even has one. I still can’t figure that girl out. Everyone has damage, but she must be really good at hiding hers, because I’m stumped. She just seems so… pure. And I have no idea why the fuck she chose to spend her evening with me, of all people, because I’m decidedly not. So, I can only conclude that she’s either a danger junkie or honestly can’t see the monster beneath my skin that’s so apparent to everyone else. Either way, she held my interest all night, and a girl hasn’t done that since… ever. When she leaves, it’s like she takes all the energy in the room with her. I’m about to call it a night, but then Miles sparks up a joint and I’m compelled to linger a little longer. It’ll help me
VANESSAHere’s the thing- I don’t give out my phone number to guys. Ever. So imagine my surprise when I was stocking the coolers at work this morning and my phone vibrated against the bar top with an incoming text message from Callum Conway.His number wasn’t saved in my phone, but I immediately knew the message was from him, and it didn’t take long for me to figure out how he got ahold of my digits. The sneaky devil must’ve sent himself a text from my phone when he was checking out my music last night. If it were anybody else, I’d probably be annoyed with the underhanded way he went about getting my number, but instead I found myself smiling down at my phone, heart pounding as I considered how to respond.Exchanging messages is harmless, right? At least that’s what I kept telling myself as we texted back and forth all morning while I smiled down at my phone like a fool. I might’ve gotten away with it, too, if I wasn’t working the same shift as my best friend. Vienna knows I don’t giv
CALLUMThe Cedar Ridge ski resort is a winter tourist trap that sits just outside the edge of the six-pack’s territory, owned and operated by the six shifter packs that reside within. Since we generally keep to ourselves, the ski resort was built as an income stream to keep our towns afloat, as well as the Cedar Ridge brewery just down the road. The ski resort is shuttered in the summer months, but the brewery is open all year round so we have consistent revenue. It’s a smart setup, but it also tempts us into wandering off-territory more than we probably should.My boys and I spend a lot of time at the ski resort in the winter, though we generally stay away from the human tourists as best we can since one of the fundamental rules of shifter culture is to keep our existence a secret. We’ve all been snowboarding for years, and we take full advantage of the fact that we’ve got a full-service ski resort right in our backyards. The runs here are second to none, and while the guests staying
VANESSAI feel him before I see him, watching me from a dark alcove near the front entrance of the bar. Always watching.When Callum steps out, he looks like a demon emerging from the shadows. His are teeth bared in a malevolent grin, his sharp jawline illuminated by the neon bar sign hanging in the window beside him. His name leaves my lips in question as my eyes drink in the sight of him; tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in dark denim, a faded grey t-shirt, and a beat-up black leather jacket. His hair is deliciously disheveled, a stray lock flopping down over his forehead and skimming his browline.He’s the picture of a beautiful nightmare; a bad boy fantasy come to life. My pulse races in nervous excitement as I swivel away from the front door of the Stillwater Tap to take a step in his direction instead.“Hi.” My voice comes out in a breathy whisper; so damn husky that I hardly even recognize it. “Hi,” he answers back in that deep, raspy timbre.I shiver.My heels snick again
VANESSA“I’ll be out of your hair in a few days,” Vienna explains to my mom as she takes a dish of green beans from her hands.“Oh, stop,” Mom scolds, swatting Vee on the butt with a kitchen towel. “You know you’re welcome to stay as long as you like. We love having you here!”I pick up a basket of rolls, shooting my friend a wide grin. “Yeah, just think of it as an extended sleepover!”She smiles wryly, following me to the kitchen table to deposit the food. The whole house smells amazing- my mom always cooks hearty dinners, but she pulls out all the stops when we have company. Although Vienna can hardly be considered ‘company’- she’s practically family. This isn’t the first time Vee has crashed at my house, but it’s the first time she’s arrived with a duffel bag in tow and expressed her intention of staying for longer than a single night. I’m glad she did. When she called me early this morning, I could tell by the tone of her voice that something was wrong, and when she showed up a
CALLUM The sound of a fist rapping loudly against my apartment door rouses me from a dead sleep. I’m a little disoriented as I lift my head from the pillow, swiping drool from the corner of my mouth with a forearm while using my other elbow to push myself up against the scratchy cotton sheets. What time is it? The knocking continues. Whoever’s there isn’t giving up, so I pry myself from bed with a groan, the rusty old springs of my mattress answering with a groan of their own. Finding my feet and blinking against the harsh sunlight streaming in through the blinds in my bedroom, I swipe a pair of sweatpants off the floor and stumble into them as the pounding on my front door continues. “I’m coming!” I growl out, not even attempting to mask my annoyance. A quick glance at the clock on my nightstand tells me it’s 10:30 a.m., which is about typical for my fucked-up sleep pattern. Still, with how deeply I was sleeping, I could’ve gotten another hour in if this prick wasn’t pounding on m
VANESSA***Four and a Half Years Later***My knee jumps nervously as I sit rigidly on the edge of the bed, my mind turning over anxious thoughts while I stare at the red glow of the numbers on the bedside clock. He should be home any minute now. It isn’t unusual for Callum to take short trips to Denver these days since he’s apprenticing with a tattoo artist there, but the wait for him to return this time has been particularly brutal. The past two days have felt like the longest of my life.Even before the bedroom door opens, I know he’s back. It’s just like in those early days when I could feel him before I saw him. Our souls are magnetized to one another’s, and through the bond they’ve become even more fused and interwoven. There was a time when I’d given up hope that I’d ever feel this with him again; when I woke up alone in the cabin after he left, when I felt the bond being torn from my skin under the next full moon. But then fate saw fit to give us a second chance. I’m still not
CALLUM “Okay, Levi has really stepped up his jungle juice game,” Nessa comments, plucking a cherry from her red plastic cup and bringing it to her lips. She sinks her teeth into the fruit, tugging off the stem and smiling in satisfaction as she chews. If by ‘stepping it up’ she means adding actual fruit to the concoction as a garnish, then sure. Though Levi’s jungle juice recipe is still basically jet fuel disguised as fruit punch. Tastes great, but has a nasty kick that you don’t feel sneaking up on you until it’s too late. Still, the people here can’t seem to get enough of the stuff. I sling an arm over Nessa’s shoulders and lean back on the sofa, taking in the familiar scene at the packhouse tonight: a bar set up in one corner, large speakers in the other, and a sea of bodies crowded in between. The flow of liquor is seemingly endless and the pungent aroma of marijuana smoke lingers in the air. Girls are dancing throughout the room while guys vie for their attention, but I’ve onl
VANESSA My hands tremble as I wait for Callum to arrive at the cabin. It’s the same place I waited during each of the full moons when he was gone, blindly hoping he’d walk through that door and everything would be okay again. He never did, and it never was, but tonight’s different. Tonight, we planned to forgo the full moon run with our respective packs and meet here instead. Tonight, I know he’s actually coming, but even that knowledge does little to calm my frantic heart. We could’ve picked somewhere else to meet, but this felt right, almost poetic. This place is full of cruel memories, but they’re ours. We can’t pretend that part of our story never happened or gloss over the hard times. They all make up the patchwork of our messy, imperfect path of coming together, of finding our way back to one another. It hasn’t been easy, but can you ever fully appreciate the happy ending if you didn’t claw tooth and nail to get it? I wait in the dark, surrounded by the ghosts of our past, th
CALLUMI don’t typically get nervous. Agitated and pissed off, sure. Annoyed, definitely. But nervous? It’s not a frequent state for me, at least it wasn’t until recently.Since I returned from the mission, it’s like I’ve lived in a constant state of apprehension. Coming clean about my past and trying to win Nessa back came with a heavy dose of nerves, as did confronting Troy, but after successfully navigating all of that, I thought I was finally in the clear. Troy was exiled last week. Nessa has remained by my side, and we’re closer than ever. I can’t remember a time when I’ve been more at peace that I have been this week, but now here I am again, a fumbling, uneasy bundle of nervous energy as I walk with Nessa up to the front door of her family’s house.“You’ve already won me over, but now you have to win my parents.”That’s what Nessa said when she invited me to this dinner, and my anxiety has been on overdrive since. I’ve never been great with parents, and the thought of coming f
VANESSA My fingertips ghost over the delicate lines of the drawing in my lap, in awe of the painstaking detail that went into every stroke of the pencil to create it. It’s a depiction of me- like every other sketch in this book- and in this one, my eyes are the main feature, crinkled at the edges, a giveaway that I’m smiling even though my fists are tucked in front of my mouth to hide it. My hair frames my face in loose waves, every strand etched with such precision that you can see the movement in the drawing like it’s captured a moment in time. Callum is so freaking talented, and something hot burns in my chest every time I look through these drawings, his love poured onto every page. It’s a heady feeling, being his muse. Being the subject of his art, the object of his affection. It’s immense and overwhelming. Nobody sees me like Callum Conway does. The sound of a key turning in the lock of his apartment door yanks me out of the trance I’m in, and I jerk my head up, looking toward
CALLUM“I was beginning to think you were avoiding me,” Troy mutters dryly as he forces his way past me into my apartment.My muscles lock up as his shoulder knocks into mine. “Yeah, well I knew you wouldn’t stop calling until I picked up,” I grumble.I glare after my stepfather as he strides right into the living room like he owns the damn place, and all the effort I put into calming myself prior to this interaction is immediately wasted at the sight of him in my space. My jaw ticks in agitation, fingers twitching at my sides. I’m not fond of anybody intruding on my space, Nessa being the only exception.That’s who I’m really doing this for. My girl is an idealist; she can’t abide not seeing wrongs righted, so if there’s one to uncover here, I’ll try, for her. I finally picked up one of Troy’s calls this morning and told him he could come over for a chat, though I still have doubts about Chase’s plan actually working. It’s clever, but he doesn’t know Troy like I do. It’d take a sledg
VANESSA“Callum,” I whine, squirming atop the soft cotton sheets. Bright sunlight pours in through the window across from my bed, illuminating him in all his naked glory.He only grunts in response.I bury my hands in his hair, tugging on the strands. “C’mon, we have to leave this room,” I pant, a little tremor wracking my body as he hits a particularly sensitive spot. “We at least have to eat…”He lifts his head with an arched brow, licking his lips and hitting me with a panty-melting smirk. “What do you think I’m trying to do down here?” He lowers his head between my thighs again before I can respond, his tongue lashing against my clit, earning a hoarse moan from my lips.“I… I… oh god, right there…” I babble, my back arching off the bed as he screws a finger into my tight hole again, curving it upwards to press against that same spot inside that has me falling to pieces against his face.I’ve lost count of how many orgasms he’s wrung out of me since we locked ourselves in here last
CALLUMIt’s going to storm.I can smell it in the air even before I hear the faint echo of thunder in the distance, a warning of what’s coming.We need the rain. The blistering summer sun has made the grass brittle, the forest foliage withering with thirst. Even the river is lower than I’ve seen it in years, in desperate need of a top-up. Sitting outside on the patio behind the packhouse, there’s an unmistakable energy in the air, almost like the parched landscape is quivering in anticipation for the storm to roll in.Within myself, the storm is already raging. It has been for a long time, born in a dark room in a basement, fed by anger and resentment. Until I found the one person who could calm it: Vanessa Diaz, my muse, my light.“You good?” Chase asks, his eyes still bloodshot from the joint we smoked.I grunt in affirmation, nodding. My own high is already gone, but the weed calmed me down as it worked its way through my system, tempering my agitation. Pulling the skeletons out of
VANESSAI glance over at Callum as he drives, the shadows dancing ominously across his profile.He really is beautiful. His face is seared into my memory, but I still get caught up in looking at him sometimes, admiring his sharp jawline and impeccable bone structure. The symmetry of his features is almost too perfect to be real- like he was cut from stone, some sculptor’s fantasy brought to life.It’s not his face that gets me, though. Or even his body, stacked with mouth-watering lean muscle that ripples with every movement. It’s the way he sets me ablaze with a single glance. The way he puts on a hard front with other people but softens all of his sharp edges for me. The way he lets me see the real him, and the way he really sees me.It’s the sweet words and the gentle touches and the all-consuming intensity of his presence. Every time I’m with him, I’m reminded why I fell for him in the first place- and why even after everything he put me through, I’m still hopelessly, crazily, irr