Pack of lies, p.1
Pack of Lies, page 1
Copyright © 2023 by Madison Martin
Cover by MiblArt
Edited by Halima T. and Becky Michaels
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
E-Book ISBN: 978-1-962099-00-4
Contents
I. The Beginning
1. Ashley
2. Wyatt
3. Ashley
4. Wyatt
5. Ashley
II. The Rest of the Story
6. Wyatt
7. Ashley
8. Wyatt
9. Ashley
10. Wyatt
11. Ashley
12. Wyatt
13. Ashley
14. Ashley
15. Wyatt
Epilogue
Free Book!
Charmed & Dangerous
This Spells Trouble
About the Author
Also by Madison Martin
Part One
The Beginning
Chapter 1
Ashley
Werewolves weren’t good dancers.
We were good at a lot of other things—baking, construction, foreign languages—but our dancing was below average compared to humans.
This observation wasn’t backed by any empirical data, but it was a consistent pattern I had noticed passing by the town’s sole dance studio.
Situated on Silverwood’s main street, the We Heart Dance sported a large window, providing a clear view of the lessons within. I could easily discern the werewolves from humans by their towering height and muscular build. They moved with an unmistakable clumsiness as if burdened with two left feet.
I was, unfortunately, no exception to this rule. Despite my deep love for music, my dancing was horrible. As a result, I stuck to playing instruments and listening to CDs.
I turned away from the window and continued down the street, hoping I remembered where I parked later. There was never any parking by the music store, but it was the best music store in town. The only store in town, actually. At Harmony House, you could buy just about any instrument or piece of sheet music. I walked into the store, the smell of pinewood and cinnamon bringing me back to my childhood.
My mother always used to take me here. She regretted it now since I chose to major in music and not something more sophisticated like law or biology. But she didn’t stop me from pursuing music.
I was a college student now, officially an adult in the eyes of the world, but I was still her little girl. My parents exerted an immense amount of control over my life. I could study, go to classes, meet friends, but always with their silent conditions hovering in the background. If they forbade me to do something, a night out too late or a trip too far, I’d have to obey. It was an unspoken agreement, a power dynamic that hadn’t changed since elementary school. I loathed that feeling, that sickening throb of compliance, but I was so used to it that I didn’t know how to shake it off.
Part of me yearned for freedom, for the chance to spread my wings without their constraints. But another part of me, a much more terrifying part, craved their approval.
“Back again, Ashley?” Mr. Thompson, the store owner, greeted me warmly. He was a middle-aged man with a kind face framed by salt-and-pepper hair. He hadn’t aged in all the years I’d known him, having been my very first piano teacher. “Looking for something specific today?”
“Actually, yes,” I said. “There’s a sheet music book I’ve been searching for, with a composition I’ve been dying to learn. I’m hoping you might have it in stock.”
“Ah, always on the hunt for a new challenge, aren’t you?” he chuckled. “Well, let’s see what we can find.”
Music was something that was wholly mine, a part of me that couldn’t be influenced or shaped by my parents. It was my secret world where their voices faded into the background, and my own desires took center stage.
It took us a few minutes to dig through the books, but finally, Mr. Thompson handed me what I’d been searching for. The book was heavy and old, but it had the pieces I wanted. I paid at the register.
“Thank you so much,” I beamed, clutching the book to my chest. “I can’t wait to get started.”
“Enjoy,” he said, waving as I left the store. “I look forward to hearing about your progress!”
I stepped outside, immediately drawn to the smell of coffee from next door. The Moonbeam Cafe was a cozy cafe with dark wood paneling and warm lighting. Its windows were lined with twinkling, multi-colored lights, still up from Christmas.
Moonbeam Cafe was never crowded. It didn’t have the shiny exterior of the other cafes, the chic decor, or the extensive menus. Instead, it had charm, a quiet allure that called to me and my friends. The windows were always slightly foggy, the wooden tables worn but welcoming, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingering in the air.
The menu was small, but what they lacked in variety, they made up for in quality. The coffee was robust, the flavors rich and tantalizing. It was a simple pleasure, but one I cherished.
“Hey, Ashley!” Emma called out, her vibrant red hair catching the light as she waved me over. “What are you standing around for? Come here!”
I made my way to our usual table, where my close-knit group of friends waited. Emma, Jared, and Olivia greeted me with smiles, their presence always bringing a sense of comfort that only members of my pack could provide.
“Long time, no see,” I greeted, settling into my seat beside Jared. His tall, athletic frame exuded a calm and dependable presence, one that had always been a source of support for me. He slid me a cup of coffee, my usual order of dark roast, 1 sugar, no milk.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” Olivia asked, gesturing to my book. Despite her youthful appearance, she possessed an innate wisdom that never ceased to amaze me.
“Yes,” I replied, slipping the book into my tote. “I can’t wait to practice.”
“You’ve always been such a nerd,” Jared teased. “How do you have time for practice? Aren’t you busy with your other classwork?”
“I’m prepared for midterms.”
“Uh, don’t remind me,” Emma groaned. “Midterms are going to kick my ass this semester.”
I laughed, understanding Emma’s struggle all too well. College was tough, and balancing it with my werewolf responsibilities was even tougher. Yet as our conversation flowed, punctuated by sips of drinks, a soothing sense of contentment washed over me. Surrounded by my pack members, I knew I’d go to any lengths for them. This bond, transcending blood, was one formed at heart. With such strong relationships in the pack, it was difficult for me to continue keeping my secrets from even my best friends.
But secrets were like glass bottles, shimmering briefly in the depths of darkness before inevitable cracks revealed their concealed truths.
“Earth to Ashley,” Emma said, snapping her fingers playfully in front of my face. “You’re a million miles away. Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I reassured them. “Just lost in thought.”
That had been happening more often nowadays, but I tried to focus on my friends instead of my own problems for now. The table was alive with laughter and banter as everyone took turns sharing their latest adventures. Jared regaled us with a humorous tale about his clumsy attempts to learn parkour, while Olivia described an intriguing dream she had about finding a hidden forest waterfall. Emma, always the life of the party, entertained us all with a particularly embarrassing anecdote from her recent blind date.
“Then he actually said, ‘My ex would never have spilled wine on herself like that!’” Emma said, barely able to contain her laughter. “I couldn’t believe he had the nerve.”
“You know what that means,” Olivia teased. “We need to find you a new man. How about we go to the Howling Den on Saturday night?”
“I’m in,” Jared said, looking at Emma slyly. “I’ll be your wingman.”
“You are a terrible wingman!” she exclaimed. “I’d rather have Ash there. You’ll come, won’t you?”
“It’s been ages since we went to a club,” Emma reminded me.
My fingers drummed nervously on the oak table, the rhythm echoing the restless beat of my thoughts. “It sounds fun, but I don’t know if I can make it.”
“Come on, Ashley,” Olivia groaned. “You know we always have a blast when we’re all together.”
“Please say you’ll come,” Emma pleaded. “We miss having our favorite wolf along for the ride!”
“I promise I’ll try,” I offered, hoping it would be enough to satisfy their curiosity for now. I hated lying to them—I knew I wouldn’t be able to make it—but I couldn’t explain why. “But no guarantees, okay?”
“Deal,” Jared agreed. “You need to let off a little steam, though, Ash. You’ve been really out of it lately.”
“Sorry.” He was right, I knew—but there wasn’t a thing I could do about it.
I walked up to the massive estate, which had been in my family for generations. It was situated in the center of Silverwood, surrounded by trees and a path directly to the forest. It symbolized all that my family represented within werewolf soci
Tradition left us stuck in the past, anchoring us to bygone eras while the world moved forward, unencumbered by the chains of antiquity. Meanwhile, power was something people would do anything to obtain, unaware that you were either born with it, or you weren’t. And I wasn’t. At least I knew that.
The heavy wooden doors creaked open as I stepped into the foyer, its polished marble floors reflecting the light from the antique chandelier above.
“Ah, Ashley, you’re finally home,” my mother’s voice rang out. She appeared at the top of the staircase, her every movement poised and graceful as she descended.
My mother was a beautiful woman, her chestnut brown hair cascading in gentle waves down her shoulders. Her green eyes, much like my own, held a perpetual melancholy in them, the source of which I could never pinpoint.
“Hello, Mother,” I replied.
“Your father and I have been worried about you,” she said as she reached the bottom of the staircase. “You have been distant lately. You completely missed family dinner last night.”
“Mother, I can explain,” I began, but her stern expression stopped me short.
“Save it, Ashley,” she said. “Let us just hope that your father can see past this indiscretion and remember what is truly important for our family.”
That was harsh. Clearly there was something else going on. “Which is what? Maintaining our status in the community? Keeping up appearances?”
“Survival,” she answered without hesitation. “This world we live in is dangerous, especially for those who dare to challenge the established order.”
She led me down the hall to my father’s study, where he waited for us at his desk. He never came to me if he wanted to speak—he summoned me like this, using my mother as an errand girl.
My father wasn’t the alpha of our pack, but he was high-ranking and wealthy, which earned him respect. I could see the arrogance in the lines of his face.
“Sit down, Ashley,” my father commanded, his deep voice so loud it echoed through the hallway as he gestured to a nearby chair. I obeyed, feeling the cold leather under my fingertips as I settled into the seat. “Your mother and I have been discussing your future. You are aware of the longstanding customs that govern our pack.”
A knot of dread formed in my stomach. I swallowed hard, trying to maintain my composure. “Yes, Father, I understand.”
“Good. As you know, marriages within our pack serve not only to strengthen our bonds, but also to secure our position within the community. It is time for you to fulfill your duty to our family and our pack.”
“An arrangement has been made,” my mother interjected. “You are to be married to Liam Sullivan, the alpha’s son.”
The words struck me like a physical blow. “Arranged marriage?”
The concept of an arranged marriage had never been broached in our household, and the sudden revelation left me grappling with a sense of unease. I hardly knew Liam. We’d met before at pack meetings and went to school together, but he mostly kept to himself. He was very polite and had a good reputation, but that didn’t mean I wanted to marry him.
“Love will come with time,” my father assured me. “This union is necessary for the continued prosperity of our pack.”
I didn’t see how such a union, predetermined solely for the sake of pack prosperity, could guarantee genuine love or lasting happiness.
I searched their faces for any sign of sympathy or understanding but found only resolve. It was clear that this decision had been made, and there would be no room for negotiation.
“Please,” I implored. “I’m not ready for this.”
“Your readiness is not the issue here. Your loyalty to your family and your pack must come first,” my mother said.
How could she completely disregard my feelings about this? A mix of frustration and hurt welled up within me. Searching for strength in my voice, I gathered the remnants of my plea. “How can I find true happiness if my own feelings are cast aside so easily?”
Silence hung heavy in the room, the tension palpable between us. In that fleeting moment, I held on to a flicker of hope, a desperate longing that my mother would see beyond the confines of tradition.
Finally, she said, “You will do your duty, Ashley. There is no argument to be had, only orders to be given.
“I understand, Mother. I will do my duty,” I lied.
“Good,” my father said curtly, offering me a tight-lipped smile. “We expect nothing less from you.”
And just like that, it was done. My future had been decided without my input. But somewhere deep inside, a spark of rebellion flickered to life, urging me to forge my own path and fight for the love I truly desired.
With a heavy heart, I retreated to the sanctuary of my bedroom. The walls that once offered comfort now seemed to close in on me. My dreams, the life I had imagined for myself, were all overshadowed by this arranged marriage.
Is this really what my life has come to? Bound to someone I don’t love?
I couldn’t bear it any longer. Desperate for solace, I flung open my window and let the cool night breeze envelop me. This wasn’t how my story would end, and I wouldn’t let this announcement ruin my night. I had other plans, plans that predated my parents’ schemes for me.
Throwing caution to the wind, I slipped out of my bedroom window and carefully scaled down the side of the house. Using the trees as a cover, I ran into the woods.
The night embraced me like a kindred spirit as I found solace in its darkened embrace. The rustling leaves, and the hushed whispers of the wind provided a symphony of reassurance, urging me forward on my chosen path.
Through the veil of shadows, I navigated the familiar terrain of the woods with a sense of purpose. This wasn’t an act of rebellion but a reclaiming of my own destiny, a pursuit of the dreams that had been quietly burning within me long before my parents’ pronouncement.
I ventured deeper into the woods, the moonlight filtering through the dense canopy of foliage above, casting ethereal patterns on the forest floor. Finally, I reached a clearing on the outskirts of Silverwood.
A low growl sounded from the shadows, followed by the emergence of a magnificent grey wolf with striking blue eyes. He padded towards me, his muscular frame bathed in moonlight. As he neared, the wolf shimmered and shifted until it was replaced by Wyatt’s tall human form.
Wyatt Moor belonged to the Mooncrest pack, a rival pack of Silverwood. He was a low-ranking member, an orphan with no family to call his own. Our love defied the rules and expectations of both packs, but none of that mattered in those stolen moments we shared.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said, reaching out to take my trembling hands in his. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything’s changing,” I confessed. My gaze flickered nervously around us as I struggled to find the right words. “My parents...they’ve decided my future for me.”
“Tell me what they said,” Wyatt urged gently, his thumb tracing soothing circles over my knuckles.
I poured my heart out to him, sharing the news of my arranged marriage. “Wyatt, I can’t marry him. I just can’t.”
His eyes darkened, and he pulled me closer. “I know this is hard, but I promise you, we’ll figure something out. I won’t let anyone stand in our way.”
“Even if it means going against my family? Your pack?” I asked.
“Even then,” he affirmed, his grip on my hands tightening. “I don’t care about pack politics or what anyone else thinks. All I care about is you.”
In that tender moment, as I bared my soul to Wyatt, a rush of relief washed over me. His unwavering support and unwavering love enveloped me like a shield, fortifying my resolve to challenge the confines of my predetermined path. “Promise me something, Wyatt?”
“Anything,” he assured me, never breaking my gaze.
