I punched for the surface.
He likely wasn’t going to die down there, but I wasn’t sticking around to find out. A werewolf could die only if his spinal column was broken or severed, thus cutting off all communication from his brain to his body. I had no idea if, in his wolf form, Sean would regain consciousness in the water, but it would be silly to wait to find out. The one thing I’d never done was fight a wolf in his true from.
That was a battle I didn’t have an ass-chance of winning.
On nights the wolves shifted, I stayed in my room. A command I never disobeyed. My father took no chances when he had a large group to contain, not with me, and not with the humans who lived in the towns nearest to us. It was a very well-oiled operation.
Having a wolf lose this much control, enough to shift uncontrollably like Sean was doing, was highly unusual. Once a man became a wolf, he had to prove mastery over his wolf, which was called Dominion. His human side had to prove stronger than his wolf side. It was absolute. Sometimes it took a long time for young wolves to learn, but they did eventually. Or they weren’t allowed to live. Sean had just proven he did not have full Dominion over his wolf, which would be a very bad thing for him indeed—if fighting with me hadn’t already signed his death warrant.
I started to swim. As I focused in front of me for the first time, I could see figures running down to the dock and gathering on the embankment in front of the lodge. I was in the middle of the lake.
It took me a long time to reach shore.
Nobody came to assist me.
It was better that way. I didn’t need the remaining wolves to think I was any weaker than I was. I aimed for ground because it was closer than the dock. When my feet finally touched the mucky weeds, I dragged my body upright, staggering.
Once I hit the small shoreline, I collapsed.
So much for the stoic tough-girl facade.
The first three faces I saw hovering above me were those of my father, my brother, and James, which was a relief. I rolled onto my side, coughing violently, choking up a fountain of water. My stomach was in knots. It felt like half the lake sloshed around inside my gut.
When I could finally breathe again, I rolled onto my back. It took supreme effort. The concerned faces still loomed above me, nobody saying anything. Blood leaked from the claw wounds, tracing down my sides. The damage inflicted by Sean was clearly more severe than I’d realized in the water. I didn’t want to look at it.
Tyler stepped up first. “What the f**k was going on out there? Was that Sean with you?”
“Yes, it was Sean,” I said, coughing. “He’s shifting somewhere at the bottom at the moment.”
Tyler’s face fell. “I’m so sorry, Jess. We just figured out what was going on. Danny realized you were in trouble when he came out and heard splashing. We got down here in time to see you and Sean go under for the last time, and then you came back up and started swimming.” One of my allies would’ve had to have heard the commotion, because even if the other wolves had heard me—which I’m certain they had—none of them would’ve rung the alarm. Nick had been too far away to hear. I’m sure Sean had known all those factors and had planned accordingly to give himself a good chance at success.
My father lowered himself to one knee and very gingerly spread open my mangled T-shirt to expose the wounds on my stomach and side. He stared at the bloody gashes without speaking, without betraying a single emotion. Then, to my surprise, he reached out and tenderly brushed a piece of wet hair away, his fingers hesitant, lingering on my face for a long moment. He traced the outline of my cheek with the pad of his thumb, and only when his hand fell away did I see the tips were covered in blood. My blood.
His eyes shot completely violet in the space of a breath. He looked away, his mouth thinning in a hard line.
Between the new damage, my still-broken hand, and all the pain, I was barely staying conscious. I needed much more than Percocet; I needed to be knocked out. I squinted upward, moving my head minutely, catching the somber faces of my brother and James. Their anger was palpable, radiating from their bodies. It soothed me for a moment.
Most of the other wolves on Compound had gathered by the water, but in the presence of their Alpha, there would be no rejoicing. No one dared move a muscle. My father’s head swiveled toward the lake and then back to the dock. He snarled at someone I couldn’t see. “Go fish him out of the lake. He will answer for this with his life.” Three wolves dove into the water without hesitation. It didn’t matter if they couldn’t swim.
“Jessica?” My father hovered over me again. He was either speaking too softly or I was fading fast. Then he was on both knees beside me, his hands on my skin again, warming me.
“Yeah?” I mumbled, my eyes dilating, my brain giving in to the pain.
“I’m sending you away.”
I cracked a smile as my eyes closed. “It’s about damn time.”
Meet the Author
A Minnesota girl born and bred, Amanda graduated from the University of Minnesota with a double major in speech and hearing science and child development. After enjoying her time as a sign language interpreter, she decided to stay at home and write in earnest after her second child was born. She loves playing Scrabble, tropical beaches, and shopping trips to Ikea. She lives in Minneapolis with her husband and three kids. To find out more about the author, visit www.amandacarlson.com or on Twitter @AmandaCCarlson.
Amanda Carlson. Photo © Paige Carlson.
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