Page 199 of Warlords, Witches & Wolves

Chapter 5

Ivy swallowed her mother’s headache remedy. She sighed in relief as the healing powers Abby, the pack healer, had woven into the liquid took immediate effect.

She took another spoonful before putting the large bottle down. She frowned at the bottle. Why was it so large? Usually her mother and Abby didn’t make this in such large batches because it had a short shelf life. It was half empty. Was this because she’d been sick? And just how long had she been sick?

She glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall beside the pantry. The dates were crossed off up to March 29th.

It was March 29th? But the last day she remembered was February 28th.

She gripped the bench, her wolf whimpering inside. She’d been sick for a month? Were never fell sick like that, their immune systems managing to fight off most things, but if not, changing into their wolves usually took care of the general round of bugs and viruses.

What the hell had happened?

She tried to search her memory for a clue—what was the last thing she’d done?

It was shrouded in thick fog, couldn’t remember what had happened. There was a whisper of her having been studying and then getting up because she felt something—an anguish or a pain—then, nothing.

Had she collapsed? And why had she suddenly come back into her head in the middle of the mating ceremony? Surely if she’d still been sick, her parents would have made her stay at home. So she must have been well enough and communicating for them to allow her to go. Not only go, but dance with her brother and stand up and give a speech.

But what had happened to her that she couldn’t remember anything up until Stellan grabbed her and made her dance?

A month. Gone.

Hell.

She glanced at the calendar again, but the date was the same as it had been the last time she looked.

The date!

Uni! She’d only just started back. Now she’d missed a month of it? She’d never missed a day of school or uni in her life. How was she going to catch up?

Oh Goddess, she felt sick.

She clutched her stomach and ran to the loo, getting there just in time to heave up all the food she couldn’t remember eating at the mating celebration.

When she was finally done, she stayed on her knees, gasping and shivering.

Was she still sick? Perhaps she should go to bed.

Her wolf whimpered again in her mind, pawing at her.

Shh girl. I know.She couldn’t go back to bed—by all accounts, they’d spent too much time there already. Besides, even though she’d just thrown up, there was an itch under her skin, a need for wide open spaces and speed, the freshness of the ocean breeze across her face and tangling in her hair. It shoved away any weakness she felt, becoming an energised prickling in her skin, her muscles, her bones.

Yes. They needed to get outside and run. Running had always cleared her head—maybe that’s exactly what she needed to do right now to remember anything of what had happened to her. And to figure out what she was going to do about uni.

She went to her bedroom, slipped out of her shoes, dress and undies, took off her earrings then gathered her change around her.

Rainbow glow lit the room and then she was seeing everything through her wolf’s eyes, the night brighter, the air full of more scents, enticing her out the door. She trotted through the house and slipped out through the sliding glass door she’d left open and into the cool of the night, her thick tawny coat keeping her warm against the chill now in the air. Laughter and cheers and the warm glow of the fires from the pack circle were off to her left. She headed right towards the cliffs and the ocean.

She ran fast and hard, her paws slapping against the hard-packed earth as she took off up the road to begin with, then veered into one of the fields that had been given over to the apple trees that grew so well down here. The McVales were well known for their wine, but thanks to a forward-thinking Alpha, they had begun to diversify and were now investing in apple and cherry orchards. Cherry season was well and truly over, but the boughs of the apple trees around her were heavy with fruit. Normally she would have stopped and picked a few of her favourites—golden delicious—but didn’t want to stop. Couldn’t stop. She had to run. And run. It was the only thing that made sense right now.

She ran to the edge of the cliffs and down the path that led to the private beach that Pack McVale used year round. There was only a sliver of sand—the tide was riding high—but she ran along it, splashing through the waves as they rolled up the beach, enjoying the salty spray against her nose and paws. She ran to the far end of the beach and then turned and ran back the way she came. The water was lapping up closer and closer to the cliff, so she couldn’t stay down here for long, but she knew she could make it to the other side of the bay that was theirs and back to the steps before running became swimming.

It was a close call, but she leaped up onto the first steps as the waves slapped up against the base of the cliff, building with each surge. She stood there for a moment, chest heaving, tongue lolling, and breathed the night in. She felt calmer and no longer like her life had been torn apart by some unseen hand against her bidding. A run and the ocean always fixed things. It was why she so loved it here, why she thought herself so lucky to have grown up here on the main McVale packlands. She loved going to uni but she so missed this when she was away. But soon—the end of this year—she’d be finished her Bachelor and could start on the plans she’d discussed with the Alpha, David, only the other day.

She frowned. No, not the other day. Over a month ago.

She huffed a sigh, the sound coming out of her snout like a snort.

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