Page 18 of An Anomaly of Sunlight

Reluctantly, I drop the cigarette butt in the bin and head my separate way from Amethyst. I wanted to put her in the passenger seat and take her home where I knew she’d be safe. Staring at the dashboard, a sigh leaves my lips. No matter how much I want to protect her, I need her to want that too. I won’t steal her freedom.

Although, the thought of her going to GGs with Nitasha makes my skin crawl, my inner wolf protesting. She always gives me trouble at work. Showing up late or just ignoring the tasks I put her on. Pushing my buttons and constantly trying to bait me into an argument. Not to mention the time she went as far as trying to frame me for a large amount of cash coming up missing. I don’t know if she is after the store manager position or if she just wants someone else to take it, but she’s certainly never been a fan of me.

It’s more than that, though. My gut just screams not to trust her; that she has malicious intent. For her demeanor to shift completely when interacting with Amethyst, it sets me on high alert. Why does she want to show my Sunlight an overly friendly side, and what is her interest in Amethyst?

I slide the gear shift to drive, debating going to GGs myself, before giving in and turning toward the house. The last thing I want to do is scare Amethyst away. Light stalking is a one-way ticket to doing just that. I just have to trust that Nitasha won’t harm her.

I don’t.

After what Amethyst revealed to me tonight, I don’t want anyone to be alone with her. Especially not a witch who’s always kept her affinity hidden. Perhaps Nitasha wasn’t blessed by The Mother. The insistent chill down my spine when she’s around suggests otherwise.

Every mile I put between us is hell. I want to hold her. Show her what it is to truly be cherished. She must feel it, too. We’ve long since crossed the line between boss and employee. There’s something between us. A beautiful, budding love just needing nurtured into full bloom.

Turning into the driveway, my headlights shine onto another vehicle. What the fuck? Pulling closer, I see the Mississippi license plate and know it's my sister. Seems like she has a new car. I don’t even recognize this brand. All I know is that it’s a white SUV.

I sigh. It’s the consequences of my own actions, but I am not in the headspace to handle August tonight. I love my sister. Her energy is just too much for me at the moment. Not to mention, she’ll be able to sniff out my mate bond within five minutes. I trust August, but her proximity to our father creates a rift between us.

I rub my temples, gathering mental strength, and light a cigarette for good luck.

As soon as the car door clicks shut, August pops her head out of the front door. I scoff. She acts like she owns the place everywhere she goes. My house included, apparently. She steps out and I narrow my eyes, taking in her appearance. She looks ridiculous. A leather jacket and a bra. Completing the look with leather pants and boots. All black, of course.

“Fuck you too, Skyler.” She meets me halfway, punching me in the chest. “Thought you might like to hear it in person.” She bats her lashes; I roll my eyes. “You know, it’s a courtesy to call before showing up.” I take a drag of the cigarette. August promptly swats it from my hand.

“Oh, I know. Just don’t care. And how many times have I told you to keep that shit out of your mouth?” I glance between her and the fading embers on the gravel. “Too many to count. Also don’t care,” I shrug. “You do realize nicotine doesn’t affect the paranormal like it does humans.” She crushes it under her boot for good measure. “Just because we’re immune to the effects doesn’t make it any less nasty. Goddess fucking above, Sky, have some class.”

She motions toward the house, “Anyway, come on in. I was just finishing up dinner.” I huff; there’s no arguing with her. I kick my shoes off at the door and unbutton my shirt. Damn it. Whatever she’s cooking does smell pretty fucking delicious. A growl rumbles across my stomach. When was my last meal, anyway?

As I step into the kitchen, she’s pulling some sort of bread from the oven. “Gross!” She howls as she slides the bread onto the counter. Turning to stir a pot on the stove, she adds, “Could have done without seeing you naked.” She glances over her shoulder, side-eyeing me to drive the point home.

A laugh escapes me. “Naked? Please. That’s rich coming from the one wearing lingerie as a shirt.” With an irritating smirk, she shrugs, “It’s fashion. I don’t make the rules.” There go my eyes rolling again. August makes her own rules. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Augs.”

I sit down at the kitchen island, and August drops a plate of chicken alfredo and garlic bread in front of me. She stares at me expectantly. I prop my chin up on my hand and stare back. I know what she wants to hear. But getting her worked up is half the fun. She always cracks first.

“Well?” She growls.

Called it. “Thanks for being courteous enough to cook me dinner while breaking and entering, freak.” Turning back toward the stove to make her own plate, she mutters, “Eh, I’ll take it.” I’m practically inhaling the food when she sits her plate in front of me and leans on the counter. She twirls her fork aimlessly, glancing around the room.

“So…” She draws out the word, waiting for me to take the lead. When I don’t bite, she asks, “What’s got your panties in a twist?” I crunch down on another bite of bread instead of answering her. She sighs. “I haven’t heard from you much lately. Then I get that text. I know you, Sky. It was a cry for help. If you’d come back to Sanguine Ridge…”

“August, you know —”

She crosses her arms. “No. I’ve heard the same excuses a thousand times over. Listen, Dad will croak soon. Just come home, kiss ass a few months, then we can split his money when he dies. Easy peasy.” I cross my arms over my chest, huffing. It’s not that simple. She knows that. If she wants to live in ignorant bliss, that’s her prerogative. But I’ll never go back to the pack.

I open my mouth to snap a response, closing it as a pang of empathy washes over me. August stays there, likely being reminded daily that she’s less than. Just because of what’s between her legs. She’s desperate to prove him wrong. She’s always worked ten times as hard as anyone else.

She’s a million times the wolf he’ll ever be. But he has her brainwashed, unable to see her power. Dad is a misogynistic ass. Preaching that strength can only come from a Y chromosome. I rather think the opposite is true.

Women wield the power of life itself. A fact that our father can’t stand. A power he tried to take for himself by becoming an executioner.

“No amount of money could ever convince me to spend another second in the presence of that murderous scum.” I try to keep my tone even. August is quick to snip, “He didn’t kill mom, Skyler.” I throw my fists down on the counter, “No? Just raped her. Is that any better? Does it make him worthy of redemption?”

A beat of uncomfortable silence passes between us. We all know that it’s true. When August was only a week old, our father forced himself on our mother. Desperate for her to give him a son. Or so the story goes. I’ve heard it countless times from our aunt, Quinn.

How our mother called her sobbing for help that night. And again, when she found out she was pregnant with me. I wish I had been a female too. That way he wouldn’t have had the satisfaction of getting what he wanted.

As if mom hadn’t suffered enough, she was murdered when I was just ten, August eleven. Allegedly, the murderer was from the Graveborne Guild, an upcoming vampire group. Even at my young age, I always suspected it was our father finally finding no more use for her. Using the vampires as a scapegoat.

Regardless, her death started a conflict between wolves and vampires that we’ve never quite recovered from. Where peace once existed between our species, now there was only distrust and violence. The Graveborne’s settlement was here in Tarot Lake and allegedly they were all either murdered by my father’s wolves or moved out completely.