Dark Fates (A Paranormal Anthology)

Dark Fates (A Paranormal Anthology)

Carrie Ann Ryan & Marie Harte & Ann Mayburn & Rebecca Royce & Lia Davis & Heather Long




Chapter One


Dying was inevitable.

Being left behind was almost unbearable.

Some days she could remember the exact tone of his voice, the color of his eyes when he smiled, the way his hair looked on a breezy day.

Other days she lost all of it, the thought forgotten on the wind that carried the goddess’s voice.

Emeline never thought twice about her mind and the way it worked. Not anymore. She was far too old to worry about a memory or the lack of one. She never remembered her dead mate’s face. It had been too long, and honestly, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to remember Jeffery any longer.

What did it matter that she was almost five hundred years old and mateless? Though she called Jeffery her mate, she knew that wasn’t quite the truth. In all honesty, she’d never actually mated Jeffery. He’d left to fight a war and died before he completed the mating bond.

She’s spent the entirety of her life alone, dried up, and mateless.

What a waste.

Her phone rang, bringing her out of thoughts of dead mates, old bodies, and older souls. With a sigh, she ran a hand through her shoulder-length blonde curls, knowing she must look a fright. She got up from her spot on the floor, her petite limbs cracking from sitting on the hardwood too long surrounded by books. Oh sure, she didn’t have a line on her face, nor did she look like anything but the healthy twenty-something most wolves did, but she could sure feel her age. She might be a wolf that lived for hundreds of years—and had—but that didn’t mean her body didn’t feel it on some days.

And ever since she’d found friends within the Redwoods, she’d started to feel her age more and more.

The result of hanging with century-old and younger pups.

“Yes?” she said as she answered. She could have looked at the display on the phone, but she still wasn’t used to that. Caller ID was a new invention to her at this point.

“Oh good, I caught you. How are you, Emeline dear?”

Emeline smiled at the sound of Lexi’s voice. It never failed to make her feel warm inside when the other woman spoke. No matter how much the other woman had been through, she always put a happy face and brave front on for the world. That was how she functioned and how she made it through the day. When it became too much, Lexi had her mate, North, to rely on.

Something that Emeline knew she’d never have.

Not that she’d ever truly had it to begin with. She couldn’t miss what she’d never had after all.

“Hi, Lexi, how is your day going?”

“We’re hanging in there.” Lexi sighed, and Emeline’s heart broke once again for her.

She knew why Lexi called that morning. Why she’d called every other day for the past year and a half. Her mate, North, had been blinded by the demon Caym during one of their final battles through a spell and not by a physical injury. Because of that, they all held out hope there would be a way to fix that.

Considering North was a doctor—or had been one before the accident—his livelihood was on the line. He couldn’t practice medicine fully without his eyes. Yes, he was a wolf and could do other things, and even work alongside others, but it wasn’t the same. As it was, the new doctor, Noah, was working out, and people liked him. That didn’t mean North would be okay with that forever.

As for Noah…no…Emeline wouldn’t think about him just then.

She didn’t know if she even could. Not without feeling that odd pang in her heart.

As the months, days, and now years passed since North’s injury, the hope for his recovery was looking less and less likely.

The hope also resided on Emeline’s shoulders alone. Yes, others had helped her, but she was the one with the knowledge and, frankly, the time to spare. She was an elder, one of the oldest wolves of the Pack, and unlike those who had been part of her elder circle, unlike how she herself had been for years before that, she wanted her role to be that of a helper and not a burden.

“Talk to me,” Emeline said as she stretched down to reach her toes. She’d been sitting for hours, so entrenched in her books, she hadn’t noticed that half the day was already gone. Speaking of, she should probably get something to eat soon.

Day in and day out, the life of a wolf who lived alone—and would probably continue to live alone—seemed pretty boring. Even now that the war with the Centrals had been over for a year, the den for Emeline was quiet and peaceful.

But she wouldn’t say boring.

Not anymore.

Not since she’d moved out of the elder’s inner circle and into one of the extra Jamenson homes near the Alpha’s house.

Maybe she should get a cat or something.

Oh yes, that would be great. She could become the five-hundred-year-old cat-lady werewolf. Because people didn’t think she was crazy enough with the way her mind wandered and the fact that sometimes she could hear the moon goddess’s voice in her head.

“Emeline? You still there?”

Crap. She’d done it again. Freaking old age was killing her attention span, and she felt more like a squirrel with a new bag of nuts.

Emeline closed her eyes and tried to think back to the bits and pieces she must have gleaned from having a half ear on the conversation, only to come up short. Apparently today was one of her bad days when it came to playing normal.