United: Magiford Supernatural City (Pack of Dawn and Destiny Book 2), page 1
United
Pack of Dawn and Destiny Book 2
K. M. Shea
UNITED
Copyright © 2022 by K. M. Shea
Cover Art by MoorBooks Design
Edited by Deborah Grace White
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any number whatsoever without written permission of the author, except in the case of quotations embodied in articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historic events is entirely coincidental.
www.kmshea.com
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Afterword
Pip’s adventure continues in…
Other books by K. M. Shea
About the Author
Chapter 1
Pip
When I’d been informed that the Pack was going to help me try to connect with my magic, I had a lot of guesses what that would be like. I figured there would be random ambushes in the middle of the night, daytime chases where they ran me until I couldn’t breathe, maybe they’d nip me a few times to see if they could inspire enough terror to ignite my powers.
But the route they’d chosen to take was…not like any of that.
“Are you sure you can’t feel your magic? Or is it just that you don’t like it, so you don’t want to feel it?” Aeric asked. He peered back over his shoulder at me, his red hair sticking out in the green foliage of the forest we were hiking through.
“I didn’t even know I had this kind of magic until the fight with the Fletchings and their allies,” I said. “I couldn’t have been suppressing it, because I didn’t even know it existed.”
“You said you weren’t even aware you were the source of the potent magic during the fight, right?” Wyatt asked. Darkhaired, but shorter and more muscled than Aeric, Wyatt held back a branch for me so I could pass by without getting a face full of leaves.
“Thanks, and yeah. I thought it was Pack magic Greyson was somehow sharing with me. In hindsight, that shouldn’t be possible, since I’m a hunter.”
Yeah, I was a hunter who lived with wolves—the Northern Lakes Pack. I’d been adopted by a werewolf couple after my parents were killed in an accident on a wolf hunt.
While I was a certified hunter, there was apparently some family knowledge I’d missed out on since my parents died before they could teach me much. For instance, there was some pretty rare magic that ran through my dad’s family. Supposedly I’d inherited it, and then used it during a fight against a bunch of renegade hunters who had tried to attack the Pack.
Unfortunately, I still hadn’t figured out how I was supposed to use that magic.
“Did you feel anything when you used it?” Wyatt asked.
“Kind of? I felt awesome—like I could do anything. And I could feel that my hunter magic was around. But suddenly that feeling was just there. I didn’t do, or think, or say anything to kickstart it,” I said.
“That seems odd.” Wyatt adjusted his glasses, pinching at their thin frames. “Though maybe it’s not too surprising? You didn’t smell any different after using it—and there wasn’t any particular scent in the air. Just the smell of you. And your deodorant.”
“Gee, thanks,” I said. “I love getting reminders that I smell.”
“You’re welcome.” Aeric only half paid attention as he peered down at his phone while he tapped away on it, texting his girlfriend—and my townie friend and Timber Ridge Welcome Center coworker—Shania.
I scrambled up a steep hill that was only about ten feet tall, then skidded down the other side as Aeric and Wyatt effortlessly led the way. “Do you guys really think talking about my feelings as we hike through Pack land will help me uncover my magic, or did you just come up with this to get Hector off your back since you haven’t taken a crack at me yet?” I asked.
“Hey, this is a way more valid method than attempting to beat it from you,” Wyatt said. “Based on the one time your magic did kickstart, it seems to be intrinsically connected to your emotions.”
“Dude.” Aeric looked up from his phone. “That was so professionally stated!”
Wyatt puffed out his already broad chest a little more. “Thank you. I did research beforehand!”
“Anyway.” Aeric stuffed his phone in the deep pocket of his jeans. “Yeah, Hector told us it was our turn to see if we could notice anything about your magic, and he gave us the ‘this is a Pack-effort’ talk. But we’re pretty vested in helping you with your magic anyway.”
I had just enough time to get a fuzzy warm feeling in the pit of my stomach before Wyatt added, “Yeah, because we were about twice as strong when we were hyped up on that amplification magic of yours! Talk about feeling awesome!”
“Yeah, and if you can figure out your Wolf’s Kiss powers, we’ll be able to be amped up like that whenever we want!” Aeric laughed.
“Hey, we agreed to call it my trainer powers.” I hiked up the trail we were following, vengefully kicking up some fallen leaves. It was late August—just before the start of school for kiddos—and some of the forests were already considering the matter of autumn. “And could you at least pretend you’re doing this for my sake?”
“We are,” Wyatt assured me. “But we figured you’d want to know that we want you to get your powers, too, since you were pretty upset when you first found out about them.”
I had…conflicted feelings about my hidden hunter magic.
To start with, Wolf’s Kiss was an extremely rare form of magic, which basically let a hunter who lived among wolves—a rarity, even back in history when supernaturals mixed more than they do in modern times—amplify a Pack’s powers.
They could drastically improve the survival rate and successful change rate that a Pack could change humans into wolves and could inspire greater strength and abilities in wolves that belonged to the Pack. Unfortunately, a Wolf’s Kiss was apparently such a powerful presence, it could affect the Pack hierarchy.
That was why Hudson, the previous Alpha whom I had thought of as a kind of favorite uncle and whose daughter had been my best friend, had to leave and take his family. My magic and I had unknowingly been threatening his hold on the Pack.
A stronger Alpha had been called in as a result—Greyson.
“I decided I’d rather call you a Wolf’s Kiss,” Aeric announced. “Because saying you’re a trainer—or a tamer for that matter—makes us sound like we’re wild dogs you’re domesticating.”
“I’ve seen you eat,” I said. “You could use some domestication.”
“She’s not wrong,” Wyatt chimed in.
“Shania hasn’t complained.” Aeric pulled his phone out and tapped away on it in response to a text Shania must have sent him. I didn’t know if he was getting help from his nose or his superior wolf hearing, but he easily avoided trees and obstacles as he kept on marching through the woods.
“Ouch,” I said. “Did you see that, Wyatt? Now he’s rubbing his dating status in our faces.”
“It’s cruel of him,” Wyatt said. “But—I have hope!”
“Oh?” Aeric—as invested as always in his best friend’s romantic entanglements—immediately put his phone away and whirled around. “Who are you stalking now?”
“Aeric, please.” I jumped a fallen tree, almost landing on a huge mushroom on the other side of it. “He prefers the term ‘closely monitor’.”
“Her name is Ashley,” Wyatt said. “She’s a townie.”
“A human, then? Not a bad choice! Not that I’m biased or anything.” Aeric winked and nudged Wyatt. “What about you, Pip? Any choice males you’ve got your eye on?”
“How about Radcliff?” Wyatt suggested. “You’re a hunter, and he’s a hunter. Plus, he’s pretty good looking, and knows his way around a gun—I got to see him and Scarlett practice the other day, and he’s got excellent aim.”
“An important thing to consider in romantic partners,” Aeric said. “For Pip, anyway, because that means he won’t be spooked by her ability to kill things, and he shouldn’t get that dog vibe from her the rest of us do.”
“Thank you so much for the support,” I wryly said. “I always appreciate when you two are willing to chat about my possible romances since I’m a hunter.”
“It’s our duty to be encouraging,” Wyatt said. “Or you’ll lose hope since you have even fewer options than me, and enough failed feelings to get you the label of forever alone. And you aren’t off limits to wolves because you’re a hunter, you’re off limits because you feel like an adorable wolf puppy.”
“Yeah, Scarlett Fletching is a hunter, and she is gorgeous,” Wyatt reported. “But you’re just…”
&nbs
“A Pomeranian!” they cooed together and hugged me, smashing me between their uncomfortably muscled chests.
“Cut that out.” I squirmed out of their hug, but I was pretty used to being manhandled. Wolves were super touchy-feely, and as one of my hunter powers, I had a defensive magic that made me ooze pheromones similar to a puppy.
The positive side meant it was really hard for a wolf to get mad at me and stay mad. The downside was I had the romantic appeal of an eight-week-old puppy. (They’d decided I was a Pomeranian because I was so much smaller than all the hulking wolves, and because my hair had gone white early in my twenties, a trait I had inherited from my dad, along with his family’s weird magic.)
“You know, you either won the lottery with your magic, or you’re cursed.” Aeric pointed to a narrow deer path for us to take.
“I’d say cursed, considering her bleak possibilities of love,” Wyatt confidently said.
I shivered. “Take that back. That sounds too much like a prediction to be a joke.”
“Sure,” Wyatt easily agreed. “If you try to connect to your magic.”
“Boo,” I said. “You’re no fun.”
“Neither is your love life,” Aeric said.
“Okay, I’m ready to get off the love train.”
“So do you think it was that you were fighting someone outside the Pack that triggered your powers?” Wyatt asked.
“Nah, she nearly took down that Low Marsh wolf before Greyson arrived when this whole mess started,” Aeric pointed out. “Maybe it was because she was fighting hunters?”
“And what, had an allergic reaction to them?” I asked.
Aeric and Wyatt stopped abruptly, and I nearly slammed into Aeric’s back.
They were frozen, every muscle in their bodies tensed as they listened.
I copied them and tried to stretch my hunter senses—which would let me feel any werewolf in the immediate area. However, I felt nothing.
“It’s Young Jack,” Wyatt said after a few moments.
Aeric tilted his head from side to side as he picked up what my human ears couldn’t. “Sounds like he drove the golfcart into the ditch again.”
“Let’s go find him, so you two can help him,” I said.
“This way.” Wyatt took us off the deer path and through the knee-high underbrush of the woods.
We popped out on one of the many narrow gravel roads that ran through the Pack lands—they led to all the various cottages/houses, the Pack lodge, some of the nearby lakes, and Timber Ridge—the small, human tourist town the werewolves owned about half the business in.
Young Jack was just a little way up the road, anxiously rubbing the back of his head as he studied his golfcart, which was stuck with its front end dipped down in the small ditch that ran parallel to the road.
I cupped my hands around my mouth. “Jack—are you okay?”
Young Jack swung around and waved to us. “I’m fine. But my parents are going to bite me for crashing the golfcart again.”
Human, and a senior in high school, Young Jack was the child of a wolf couple who belonged to the Northern Lakes Pack. He’d decided he was going to stay human rather than be bitten and attempt the change—the process of being turned into a werewolf—but the Pack was still family to him, so he was living among us until he finished high school and figured out what he wanted to do for college/work.
He was a little hot headed, but fast to smile with a mischievous grin that he’d sported since I first met him when he was a little kid.
Wyatt shook his head as we joined Young Jack’s inspection of the crashed vehicle. “Going too fast down the road, were we? You know, this is why your parents won’t get you a car and you’re stuck using a golfcart.”
“Come on, give him a break.” Aeric rested a foot on the golfcart’s back bumper. “He has a need for speed—and it’s not like you can actually go very fast in a golfcart,” Aeric—a notable car race/auto enthusiast—said.
“He had it going fast enough to crash it,” I logically pointed out.
“Could you guys help me?” Young Jack begged. “I don’t want my parents to find out.”
“Too late for that, probably,” I estimated.
“Don’t worry,” Aeric assured him. “We’ll get you out. Wyatt?”
Aeric and Wyatt—displaying the supernatural strength of werewolves, stood at either end of the golfcart and just…picked it up. With one hand each.
They stabilized the golfcart with their free hands, but their face muscles didn’t even twitch with effort as they popped the golfcart out of the ditch and set it down on the gravel road.
“Thanks—I mean it.” Young Jack hopped in the golfcart with an easy grin.
“No problem,” Aeric said. “Where are you heading?”
“Lake Lycaon,” Young Jack said, naming one of the small private lakes the Pack owned. “I figure I can get one last day of swimming in. It’s going to be too cold pretty soon as the nights cool off.”
Aeric and Wyatt fidgeted—the whole Pack could swim, but given their fighting instincts, water made them a tad uncomfortable as they couldn’t really fight or defend themselves in it.
I, on the other hand, adored water—and climbing—for the very reason that they didn’t like it.
“Have fun,” I said. “Anyone meeting you there?”
“Yeah, Amelia and a few others are supposed to come out in an hour, but I wanted to get there first.” Young Jack swiveled in his seat. “Hey, if my parents happen to see you…”
“I won’t tell them,” Aeric promised.
“Great. Thanks again!” Young Jack winked at us, then started the golfcart and puttered off.
Wyatt watched as Aeric waved to the teenager. “You do know that we won’t have to tell his parents anything, since the wreckage will be obvious?” He glanced at the very clear skid marks that dug through the gravel, and the smashed sapling Young Jack had run down in the process.
“Of course, it’s why I said I wouldn’t say anything.” Aeric wriggled his eyebrows, until his phone beeped and he dug it out again.
“How is Shania?” I asked.
“Good!” Aeric’s smile grew as he read the text message. “Her asthma was kicking up for a while, but she’s doing better today.”
I perked up when I felt two bright spots enter my hunter senses. “We’ve got visitors coming.”
“That would be the parental units.” Wyatt rolled his shoulders back and turned in a circle, looking for his packmates.
I saw them first when they stepped out of the shadows—it was Jack’s parents, Klancy and Roanne.
“Roanne, Klancy. Hey!” I waved to them as they tilted their heads, studying the signs of the wreck.
Roanne was picture perfect, with coppery blond hair that settled on her shoulders in lovely waves and a slim build that belied her sheer strength. She was just a touch taller than Klancy, who was wiry but looked like a lumberjack from a romance book with his craggy good looks and well-trimmed beard.
“He crashed the golfcart again, didn’t he?” Roanne joined us with a few large steps, shaking her head as she studied the skid marks. “We’re going to have to make him retake his driver’s test before we let him leave for college.”
“He’s more cautious with a car.” Klancy—although wider than his wife—moved like shadows. “But the problem could right itself if we let him drive around Timber Ridge.”
“You mean because Mayor Pearl would fix the police on him and give him a ticket for every minor infraction?” Roanne asked. “I suppose that could work.” She turned to Aeric, Wyatt, and me, her intense blue eyes studying us. “Thank you for helping him.”
“Sure thing,” Aeric said. “We love to help the kiddos!”
