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I open my mouth to reply when I hear my father call, “Sophia.” I turn to his voice and hear from behind me, “let’s go. Now!” Spoken like a curse from my would-be mate.
My mom and dad reach me seconds later, asking if I was okay and why I never came back.
“I’m not feeling well, Dad,” I say, and it’s no lie. The hollow ache in my chest intensifies as I rub just above my heart.
“Okay, sweetheart, let’s get you home,” he says, looking to my mom questioningly. We turn toward the car when I see him holding the woman’s hand. Roxanne, I’m guessing. They’re almost around the corner. He doesn’t look back once before walking out of my life.
Two weeks later my parents are dead, and I’m alone.
CHAPTER1
“Piss off,” I mumble acerbically as I drag my bags up to my new front door. The condo I just purchased is right on Main Street. When I look out my front windows, I see Torch Lake with its crystal clear water and beautiful, sandy beach. My kindle and I dream about that beach.
About a half mile down, I see small tourist shops and a few smaller restaurants. In the opposite direction is the Hair of the Dog Bar, crazy name, right? The four men leaving the bar are just as crazy, shouting at me about the beauty of my ass while I lug my stuff up the walk. Throwing my bags through the open front door, I turn and give them a two-finger salute. They laugh and coo like it’s foreplay. “Jackasses!” Slamming the door, I put my back to it and slide down.
I’m home. I haven’t had a home in five years, not one that felt like home anyway. “Not now, Sophie,” I say out loud. I’ve already had all my new furnishings delivered. After a few adjustments to the kitchen, I have just my personal stuff to unpack. An hour later, I’m done and drinking a big cup of coffee to celebrate. Today is Wednesday, my nineteenth birthday is Saturday, and my first day as a college student is Monday. I can’t believe I’ve finally made it to this point.
Michigan is new to me. I’ve always lived in some random Kentucky city. One of the first things I noticed about my new home, at least for the next few years, were all the lakes with beautiful beaches. I came for the small, private college located just a few blocks from my new condo. Why did I pick this college, you ask? Well, it all started with the name, Hope. Hope College in Point Pleasant, Michigan, cool right? That’s something I need, hope. So here I am.
The death of my parents orphaned me. With no family to speak of and being too young to be on my own, I, an underage shifter, ended up in foster care with humans. The first home I went to wasn’t so bad; I think they knew I had money and thought they could get it. I wasn’t there for very long before they figured out there was no pot of gold with this rainbow. My secondhomewas horrible; the third night the woman, Beth, backhanded me for speaking at the table. I’d never even been spanked by my parents. Things escalated quickly. I think the worst was listening to the other kids get hit. I hadn’t shifted yet, but was still stronger than your average fourteen-year-old. More often than not, I would get myself into trouble to distract the Check Cashers from the other kids. Some hated me for it, but for the most part, they didn’t understand why I’d do it. I don’t always understand it myself.
After I shifted for the first time, things became easier and harder all at once. I healed even quicker and was able to fight back better, but I needed much more privacy. There were times I only shifted once a month, just barely enough to let my wolf run. I had to learn to control her alone and quickly.
I don’t remember how many nights I wished my parents lived in a pack so I would have been taken in, cared for by my own people, but they lived off the grid as they called it. I never knew why they never hid things from me; they just didn’t live long enough to tell me everything.
I did know it wasn’t safe to seek a pack alone as an underage or un-shifted wolf. I could easily become someone’s property. Dealing with the humans was bad enough.
I never did tell my parents I met my mate that night all those years ago. Maybe if I had things would have been different, they could have explained to me why he left, helped me understand what to do with the rest of my life. We assume there will be time to tell the people we love the secrets we keep, whether from embarrassment or just thinking there will be time tomorrow. Hindsight is twenty-twenty and all that.
When they first died, I was sure my mate would come for me. Every night, I would dream of him saving me. I even held out hope that after my first shift he would find me. Those thoughts evaporated when one of mydad’stried to rape me not long after I turned seventeen. I walked away that night with the hope of a Prince Charming coming to save me gone. My foster dad didn’t walk away that night. In fact, I don’t think he’ll ever walk again.
As soon as I turned eighteen and could get to the money my parents left me, I was gone. I lived in a small apartment and finished high school. I took every self-defense and martial arts class available, making sure I’d never be a victim again.
Hello, pity party, table for one. I need a distraction, stat. Grocery store, here I come. Hours later, I’m loading the back of my white, vintage Jeep Wrangler with everything from a broom, vacuum, and cleaning supplies to all the groceries I could fit into the second cart. I love to cook, and it shows. Since I’ve been on my own over the past year, my hips, butt, and boobs thank me for not starving. I’m still short, just not as wiry as I used to be. My long, dark hair catches on the roll cage as I shove everything in. The broom and mop handle stick straight up out the top.
As I pull from the parking lot, I catch the scent of another shifter; it’s the first shifter I’ve smelled since my parents passed. I’m so taken aback I gun the engine before anyone can scent me.
“Shit, shit, shit!” I slam my hands on the wheel as I pull into my parking space. I don’t know how to deal with other shifters. I knew I might run into one eventually, just not this soon. I don’t know why my parents kept us away from others; I just know that a rogue shifter can be considered a threat. Am I a rogue? I don’t even know.
I quickly bring my supplies in and put everything away, unsuccessfully trying to forget about my almost meet and greet.
Thursday and Friday pass with little fanfare. On Saturday, I make myself a pineapple upside-down cake and buy a few new books for my birthday. Exciting, I know.
Then I hit the beach. There are a few families with small children. It’s not very busy considering it’s the last week before school. Most of the tourist fugees, the town people’s name for tourists, are gone.
My blanket is warm from the sand and sun, and I can feel the cool breeze blowing in from the lake. I keep my cut-off shorts and tank top on while I read. Completely relaxed, I roll on my belly before turning on some music.
I must have started to doze. Before I’m fully awake, I feel someone near me. I can hear them breathing. My heart speeds and my fight or flight response kicks in. Before I move, I feel him inhale at my neck and I freeze.
“She smells so fucking good, man. Do you smell that?”
I open my eyes before whoever he’s talking to can get near me and roll out from under him. His arm flies out when I move and caught off guard, he falls to my blanket where I was just lying. I’m on my feet and ready to run before he can blink.
“Shit, she’s fast. How the hell do you do that?” another voice asks from my right.
Keeping both of them in sight while I look for more of them, I raise my hands and back away in the universal “I don’t want any trouble” gesture. Sniffer is now getting up and looking at me like I’m a wild animal.
“It’s okay, love. I’m not going to hurt you. Are you okay? Don’t run, okay. I’m Casper, and this here is Michael. Are you new here?” He tilts his head. “I haven’t seen you before. Are you here for vacation or school?”
