The Mystic Wolves (#1, The Mystic Wolves)

It was into a quiet hush— a reverent silence—when I slipped inside Jasmine’s room, closing the door softly behind me. The curtains had been drawn, candles lit on almost every surface, and it gave the space a solemn ambience befitting the moment.

  Not ready to look at the bed where my beloved friend and pack sister lay, I gazed around the place I’d spent so many hours in. Echoes of memories flittered about in my mind, and it tugged on my heartstrings because I truly, and deeply, loved Jasmine.

  Our connection had been almost instant, two hearts reaching out, and rejoicing in finding one another. Similar in age and tastes, our friendship had steadily grown until we became inseparable—in thoughts and actions. Mason would laugh so hard each time we finished each other’s sentences, and would groan over the antics we’d get up to.

  He always shared how good it felt knowing we were close, easing a burden I never knew he carried. He worried over his sister; afraid she’d be lonely if his future mate didn’t recognize the importance Jasmine held in his life.

  Back in the room, something pulled me toward the bookshelf that was crammed—filled with some of Jasmine’s favorite reads. It was the photo frame I’d given her for her last birthday—a silver one with the words “best friends” stamped into it. I gingerly picked it up, my eyes never leaving the smiling faces peering back up at me. I traced her image, marveling at the glow the camera had been able to capture.

  I couldn’t even remember when we took the picture, we’d taken so many. Judging from the goofy looks, I’d say it was from one of the many nights we used to lie giggling on top of her bed together, taking random poses. No matter the occasion, we always found some reason to be silly, and would spend hours trying to outdo the last shot.

  Both our mouths were open, teeth sparkling, but the twinkle in our eyes showed it all. We were best friends. We were happy, and we had the rest of our lives ahead of us.

  It hurt my heart knowing the last part wasn’t true anymore. Placing the frame back on the shelf, I began randomly pulling out books. It was another thing Jasmine and I had in common—our love of reading romance, and the sexy heroes we found in each story. I couldn’t count how many times we would text, or show up at each other’s rooms, gushing over what Mr. McSwoony was doing, and sighing together. We were complete junkies, and would stay up all night talking about what it would be like to be transported into one of the books. We had weaknesses for highlanders, and no matter how hard we tried, we could never get Mason to speak in a Scottish brogue.

  I laughed out loud, remembering how we used to badger him.

  “Please, Mason . . . just say it. Just once, and we’ll go away.”

  “No, Jasmine. Now leave me alone.”

  “Not even for me?” Running my finger down his chest, I bat my eyelashes at him. If anyone could get him to cave, it was me. I was his weakness after all.

  “Not you too! Enough, I’m not going to speak like your silly romance books.” Mason backed up, a frown on his face as he struggled to look serious. “How will people respect me as Alpha if they know I gave into your demands?”

  “Awww, come on, Brother. It’s not like we’re asking you to wear a kilt and swing around a sword. Just a few words—for us. Pleeeeassee.” Jasmine wasn’t beyond begging.

  “Hmmm, a kilt. I think that’s even better. Forget the words. Wear a plaid for us. Show us that fine body of yours!” I began to move toward him, a wicked grin covering my face.

  He fled after that, spending the rest of the afternoon hiding in his office. Jasmine and I returned to her room and laughed for hours, devising plans on how we could convince him.

  Leaving the bookshelf, I noticed I wasn’t alone in the room. April was curled up on the chair, head resting on her hands as she slept against the seats arm. New to the pack by a year, she was also the youngest and looked up to Jasmine a lot. It made sense if anyone would be keeping vigil, it would be her.

  Shaking her shoulder gently, I whispered for her to wake up. Recognition was slow as she opened her sleepy eyes and they instantly filled with tears.

  “Hi, Darcy. I’m sorry I fell asleep. I didn’t mean to.” She stretched her small frame and yawned.

  “How long have you been here?”

  “Since Mason and everyone brought her in. A few of the pack sisters helped get her situated, cleaned up and changed her clothes before they all left.” She looked at the floor, speaking softly. “I didn’t think she’d want to be left alone so I stayed.”

  The thoughtfulness of April struck me hard, and I offered her a grateful smile. Even though we didn’t always pull her into our circle, she loved Jasmine enough to know her well.

  “You’re right. Jasmine wouldn’t have liked that. Thank you for being here.” I reached out, and April moved into my open arms. As we stood there embracing, she let out a floodgate of cries, the depth of her grief filling the small room. Stroking her back gently, I vowed to keep a closer eye on her, making sure she knew I was always there.

  “Did you come to sit with her?” A hiccup quickly followed the question. Using the back of her hand, April made a quick job at mopping up her tears. My heart broke for her—broke for all of us.

  “I did, so why don’t you head back to your bedroom for a while, and try to get some sleep. Your bed would be more comfortable than the chair.” Gently leading her to the door, she seemed a little hesitant to leave. “The Alpha has shared the farewell ritual will be tonight at sunset. I’ll make sure someone comes to get you, okay?”

  Turning around with a serious expression on her face, April added softly, “If you have to leave and no-one is around, come get me.”

  Promising her I would, I went back inside with Jasmine, alone for the first time since this nightmare began. I fidgeted with my clothing, my fingers desperate to be moving. I took a step towards the bed, and faltered. I didn’t think I was strong enough for this. Everything in me screamed to turn and walk away, not to look—not to face the truth.

  My wolf raised her head and gently bayed, a soft serenade of comfort. I felt her brush against me, and a feeling of peace flowed through me. She was lending me strength—strength I didn’t have on my own. Sighing deeply, I closed my eyes and reminded myself I would survive this. I approached the bed and the piece of my heart that lay there, forever sleeping.

  She was beautiful. Even in death, Jasmine stole my breath, so peaceful ... so still ... so young.

  If I didn’t know the truth, I would’ve sworn until I was blue in the face she was sleeping. Her facial features were relaxed and a slight smile rested on her lips. I couldn’t see any of the horror from before, someone having erased the evidence. Whoever it had been, I would be forever grateful because I knew Jasmine’s last moments weren’t happy—far from it.

  Not caring to hide the trembling in my hand, I brushed my fingers through her fine blonde hair, combing it a little over the pillow. She always thought a woman’s hair was their crowning glory and she was always so meticulous with it. I was the kind to dry and put in a ponytail, but Jasmine … she could spend forever brushing, straightening, or curling it. I would lie on her bed and tease her relentlessly over it, but she just smiled and told me to shush.

  Dragging one of the seats over to her bedside to sit, I released the breath I’d been holding. Step one accomplished and I was still okay. I looked down the length of the bed. Someone had clothed her in her favorite dress and lightly covered her with a blanket, as if protecting her from the cold. It was a thoughtful gesture.

  I glanced over her body, as if trying to check she was all there and accounted for. I knew I was being silly, but still I did it, almost like how Mason had done it with me—two arms, two legs, and a body. She was in one piece, sleeping. I caught the lie and didn’t bother correcting myself.

  I reclined in my chair, and exhaled heavily. “Oh, Jasmine.” The words hung in the air, suspended by a hope I knew I shouldn’t have.

  Abruptly leaning forward, I raised my voice, “Wake up, girlfriend. Time to rise and shine. Who s
aid you could be lazy and sleep all day?” I peered at her, waiting for her to open her eyes and poke her tongue out at me.

  Nothing.

  “You’re missing out on things. Daniel’s driving Mason crazy by calling him all kinds of titles. Sooner or later, your brother is going to pound on him. Who’ll be there to bandage the fool if you’re not awake to help?” Grasping at straws, I used her crush on Daniel to try to coax her back.

  My beautiful sister continued to lay still.

  Without thinking, I reached out and took hold of her hand, squeezing it. The instant I touched her, I realized my mistake. Grief beat down on me with such force that a sob erupted out of my mouth and I whipped my arm back, shaking my head frantically.

  “No. No. No.” Somewhere in my mind, I kept telling myself if I denied the truth, I could keep pretending. But the proof was in the chill over her skin, the stiffness of death, and it shattered me.

  It didn’t matter that I’d been surrounded by violence all my life. The reality of death wasn’t something new, especially being part of the supernatural community, because there was always something happening, some feud—particularly amongst the packs. This felt different though. It struck too deep because this had been personal—my relationship with Jasmine a strong one.

  Pulling my legs up into my chest, I wrapped my arms around my knees and cried. She truly was gone and nothing was bringing her back.

  The room felt confining—like the air had been sucked from it, and I struggled to catch my breath. I refused to open my eyes, not ready to see again what my heart was not accepting as fact. We had spoken about it. I had remembered the events and thought I acknowledged it. But this—her cold hand—was like a slap in the face ... a proverbial kick in the gut.

  Are you okay?

  Mason. He’d reached out through our connection and I could imagine him, face concerned, ready to finish what he was doing so he could come. I shook my head, even though I knew he couldn’t see me do it. He was needed where he was. There were other things of importance. He had already helped me over the worst and this too would pass.

  I am. How are you doing? Meeting almost over? I hoped we’d be able to get a few moments alone together before the ritual, just so I could make sure he’d at least eaten something today. I knew he’d been on the go and he had to be exhausted.

  I could almost feel his sigh as he answered. I’m doing okay. It’s been a long day, so once I’m done here, I’ll come get you.

  The connection closed and I spent the next few moments soaking in the surrounding silence. I sat there in the glow of the flickering candlelight until I found myself speaking out loud again.

  “I’m sorry, Jasmine.” I remained quiet as I let my apology settle. “But I got justice. I wasn’t able to protect you, or stop it from happening, but I did avenge you. That has to mean something, doesn’t it?” My voice was small, almost childlike in tone.

  Looking over at my best friend, suddenly there didn’t seem enough time to tell her everything my heart contained. All those unspoken moments and thoughts were begging to be released. How many times did I say, “Oh, I’ll tell her tomorrow,” or, “I’ll wait until I see her next?” Staring at her, I realized there would be no more tomorrows for us. I did something I didn’t think I would’ve had the strength for only moments earlier.

  Careful not to disturb her, I inched myself toward her, lowering my body down beside her on the bed. Ignoring the cold feel, I took hold of her hand and began from the start. I poured out my heart and shared everything, no matter how small, or insignificant. Whatever entered my mind, I shared and soon all my hopes, dreams, and memories filled the room.

  It was our final bantering session—our last time staring at the ceiling while baring our souls. I held onto the hope and belief that wherever Jasmine was, she was listening and smiling. She was at peace and missing me just as much as I was her.

  A blanket of exhaustion fell over me, making my words jumble as I fought yawn after yawn. Soon it became difficult to speak, as I settled deeper into the bed, and with one final whisper, I gave in to sleep.

  “Goodbye Jasmine. I love you.”

  Chapter Thirteen