Book 17
Posey
“Oh, my Goddess.” Willow’s sleek dark brown hair fans around her face as she pulls her baby blue convertible to a screeching halt, the smell of burning rubber scorching my nostrils. She pushes her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose and gasps as the shadow of a massive, three-story stone house from a begotten era swallows us whole, stained glass windows glaring down at us, four spires twisting to the clouds and nearly blocking the sun. “This is where we’re staying? How old is this place?”
“That’s a very good question. Probably ancient. Everything this size in Veiled Valley is–”
Her door slams shut. She’s already out of the car and falling into the shadow of the–well, I suppose it’s a castle. A miniature castle, probably the home of some long-dead aristocrat or Alpha that built it during the time of the original Firestone Witches. Two wings branch off the center of the structure with perfectly trimmed hedges juxtaposed against a remarkably modern and meticulously landscaped front lawn. It’s a strange combination, but estates like this are all over Veiled Valley, and especially here, in the Gem Lake district.
“Holy shit, Posey!” Willow squeals, spinning in a circle, her crop top and jean shorts making her look like a time traveler as she hops up the dark stone steps. “You have to take my picture. This place is insane! It’s haunted, isn’t it? Puh-lease tell me it is!”
“Unlikely.” I reach for the keys still dangling in the ignition, switching off the car.
Willow peeks through a front window then darts across the porch, vibrating like a rabbit in a trap while I fish my suitcase out of her backseat and drop it on the white gravel.
“No fucking way! This is incredible! We don’t have many places like this in Crescent Falls!”
The front door swings open, and Willow jumps back, her hand flying over her chest. Roman steps out onto the front porch wearing an expression of mock annoyance and glances at me, then his watch. If he had a teasing remark about how late we’ve arrived, it’s lost in a gust of breath when Willow launches into the air and collides with him, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Roman! It’s been ages! Wow, you’re like, really muscular now!”
My brother artfully lowers Willow back to the ground and takes a calculated step away, giving her a polite, but disgustingly rehearsed, smile. The kind of smile every son and heir of an Alpha has down to a science. “Willow. It’s never quite long enough.”
The dig goes right over the top of her head. She bounds past him, gasping and shrieking as she’s swallowed by the house, but I can still hear the excited clack of her sandals when Roman arches a brow in my direction and says, “Sister.”
“Brother.”
“So nice of you to join me… three hours late. I was about to call in the Ghosts.”
“Willow would have had a fit. She loves a man in uniform.”
“Keep her away from Aris then, unless you want her ruined for life.” He snorts a laugh, jogging down the stairs to gather my suitcase. “He has a bad habit of playing tricks with his Ghost issued gloves.”
“I didn’t think he was really coming.” I narrow my eyes at Roman. Aris is notoriously flaky. Not that I’ve kept track or anything. I gave up on his attendance to any significant life events years ago. He’s a prince, which gives him an eternal pass to be an asshole, so no one has ever called him out on it.
He did text me earlier this morning, but I’d mostly ignored it. I generally do.
I don’t dislike him by any means but he–he’s just… Aris. It’s always been so hard to explain. He’s hard to explain.
“He is. He’ll get here any minute, actually. I thought you’d beat him by a few hours.” He tucks my suitcase under his arm and turns back to the house. “Should I get her things, too?”
“Yeah, I’m sure she’ll be expecting that.” I toss her keys in the front seat of the car with a sigh.
Roman sizes me up, giving me an arch of his thick, dark brow. He looks like our dad. He’s a mirror image, everyone says. I can see it, the striking family resemblance, the DNA that missed me by a mile. Roman and our dad, Farrow, the Alpha of Sapphire Ridge, are both tall and broad shouldered, with all the physical blessings of an Alpha family line. They share the same deep, chocolate brown hair and skin that tans to a cool bronze the second they step into the sun. Roman even got the eyes our pack was named after. They are a bright, glossy, and flawless sapphire blue.
There are similarities between us but not many. I have the same soft waves and bouncy texture in my hair. The straight, narrow nose and rounded cheeks are, apparently, a Sapphire Ridge family trait, but that’s as far as the similarities stretch. I look like our mother, Oulette. I have her strawberry-blonde hair and pale green eyes–forest green, Dad likes to say, because of the flakes of yellow and brown around my pupils and the deep green that edges my irises. Still, it’s nothing compared to that perfect blue. I’ve been reminded of these differences my entire life.
I’m also shorter than I probably should be, given my genetics. Both of my parents are tall, whereas the top of my head barely reaches Roman’s shoulder. We walk side by side into the massive summer rental house Aris probably put on his family’s coffers. Where my family tends to be on the lean side, I was told recently by a decrypted old crone at the apothecary that I have child bearing hips and a chest to match. She’d meant it in a nice way, I think. Told me I was “blessed” and crinkled her nose when I’d purchase several contraceptive drafts. In my defense, they’re for Willow. She needs them a whole hell of a lot more than I ever have.
“I am glad you’re here, you know. One last summer before we have to grow up and be something,” Roman says with a smirk. I follow him up a set of stairs to the eastern wing. We’ve lost Willow already, but she’s rather loud, so it won’t be long until we can easily pinpoint her location. He glances around for a moment, turning to face the western wing, which rests across a sweeping balcony overlooking the foyer. The inside of the house is modern, totally redone, and smells sharply of floor polish. I can see my reflection in the cherry wood floorboards when Roman murmurs, “I was going to put you on the second floor next to Willow, but based on how heavy your suitcase is, I’m guessing you packed every book you own?”
“Not every book.”
“You’re going to be studying, aren’t you?”
“I have my entrance exams at the end of summer, so… yeah. A bit.”
He adjusts his hold on the suitcase, doing another scan of the area. “Well, in that case, you’ll want quiet from the rest of us. Come on, then. We have another flight of stairs.”
He guides me through the eastern wing, past at least six doors, until another, smaller, less grand staircase comes into view. I hesitate before following him up.
“Aris is staying right across the hallway. Technically, this suite adjoins his, but I doubt he’ll mind. He doesn’t bring women back to his bed, so you won’t be bothered up here.”
I crinkle my nose, chuckling, “He hasn’t changed a bit, has he?”
“When was the last time you saw him, anyway?” Roman opens a door to the left, and the room opens before me. Large windows let in southern facing sunlight, now faded with the setting sun, but it’s bright and airy, nonetheless. I smooth my hands over the pale blue duvet cover on the bed.
“Um, years ago. I have no idea.”
“He asked about you. He was surprised you were coming.”
“I’m surprised I’m here,” I admit with a small laugh, but Roman’s expression darkens.
He sinks onto the foot of the bed, crossing his ankle over his knee and taps his foot, his arms crossed over his chest in a very familiar way. He tends to… hug himself when he’s stressed or unhappy about something, like the future I’ve decided for myself.
“You’re really doing this, aren’t you?”
I turn to the window, pretending to be invested in the wooded backyard. There’s also a view of the pristine lake. “Why is everyone so upset about it? It solves every issue our family has about–about me.”
“It’s your whole life, Posey. Dedicating your entire life to someone–”
“I’m making the right decision for everyone,” I cut in, throwing him a look over my shoulder. “You get it. I know you do.”
“Not having a wolf isn’t that big of a deal.”
“In our family it is.”
Roman chews his lower lip, shaking his head. He won’t press. He never does. No one has really fought for me to change my mind, so I haven’t.
Voices drift from downstairs, and Roman rises, tucking his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “That’s probably the guys. Come downstairs and say hello.”
“I will. Just give me a minute. I’ve been in the car all day with Willow.”
“Social battery running a little low?” He smirks then glances at the door. “How are you friends with someone like her anyway?”
“You know she’s great. She’s just excitable.”
“You need more friends like you, Posey.”
I don’t know anyone else like me. There’s no one else like me.
“Where the fuck is he?”
I freeze as a trio of male voices barrel toward the open door. Aris is the first to come into view, and for a moment, my heart stops. I haven’t seen him in five or six years. He’s not a scrawny teenager anymore.
That’s for damn sure.
His dark blond hair curls around his ears, ruffled, like he doesn’t have a care in the world, especially about his appearance. The boyish, utterly charming curve of his mouth is the same, however, as well as the chiseled angles of his face, like he was carved by a master in the style of the effigies of the old gods. Everyone in his family is like that–beautiful. Handsome. The works.
Tate and a man I might know but just don’t remember come to a stop behind him, totally blocking the doorway.
Aris looks from Roman to me, his silver eyes glimmering with mirth as he leans against the doorframe, his biceps flexed and rippling under his thin cotton shirt. He looks straight at me, a boyish smirk touching the corners of his mouth. “Posey.”
“A-Aris,” I stammer, then blush. I can’t hide it. The heat spreads down my neck and flares across my chest where the strappy tank top I wore to try to cut through the dead heat of summer doesn’t hide a Goddess damned thing.
I barely register the conversation about room assignments taking place around me. Roman leaves, taking Miles, right, that’s his name, and Tate with him. I assume Aris will follow, but when I finally look up from my toes, he’s still standing there, darkening my doorway.
“What?” I cross my arms, wetting my lips before fixing him with a look. A glare. At least, I try.
“I thought I told you this was my part of the house. I sent a text. I know you saw it.” He smiles down at me, the same look he used to give me as a kid whenever he broke one of my toys or wanted me to play war games with him and Roman, with me being the dragon they meant to slay, or worse, a bridge troll. It’s meant to disarm me and always has. That’s his gift–not shadow play or storms of darkness. No, he’s fully weaponized his good looks and charm.
But I’m immune at this point.
“Take it up with Roman,” I tell him with a curt smile. “Don’t worry. He already said you don’t bring girls back to your bed, so it’s not like I’ll be in your way.”
His silver gaze turns suddenly cold. “He knows too much about me and my habits.”
“Bad habits.”
He hums a laugh, glancing around my room. “I guess this is fine. Just keep that door–” he points across the room. “Keep that door locked. It joins our suites. I wouldn’t want you getting any crazy ideas.”
“Me?” I laugh, and he playfully glares. “You were the one who sleepwalked until you were in warrior training.”
He winks and turns for the door, saying over his shoulder, “Yeah, well, I know for a fact you still sleep with a night light, Posey. Come downstairs soon. We’re going out. There’s a bar nearby–”
“I’m staying in tonight. I need to unpack.”
He slowly turns back in my direction. “You’re staying in on a full moon?”
“I have the whole summer to go out. It’s fine.” My chest tightens. It’s not a good enough excuse. If anyone can see right through me this summer, it’s going to be Aris.
Aris scans me from head to toe before heading through the doorway. “I see you haven’t changed a bit.”