One Insatiable(3)

All I know is the burning rage will only get out one way. I’d bought a bus ticket to California, but I won’t be using it. I don’t have anything I care to take with me, so I leave it all behind. I’ll figure out my next moves when I get to the coast.

It’s true, I’ve fallen from a great height, but if Slayde Bennett can turn his fortune around, so can I.

Stripping off my clothes, I crouch at the side of the road and spring into the darkness, disappearing in a streak of midnight, headed west.





Unexpected





Mercy


I shower quickly, dry off, and slip a thin, black cocktail dress over my head. Since I didn’t have time to exercise this afternoon, I never broke a sweat. Shaking out my long, wavy hair, I dust a bit of powder over my nose and smooth beige lipstick over my lips. One quick look, and I’m ready to descend the staircase for our weekly dinner with the Cross brothers.

After my parents died ten years ago, Dylan assumed the role of alpha of our family. She’d only been twenty-two at the time, and we’re only a small clan of lynx shifters. Still, as one of the oldest families in Woodland Creek, we have money and status, and we’re expected to associate with “the right kind.” I’m repeatedly reminded of this, even though I have zero interest in dating anyone in this town.

My middle sister Autumn escaped all the nonsense when she moved to the East Coast for college. She has never returned, and for some reason, no one seems to care. No such luck for me.

“Ah, here she is.” Hayden sits to the left of my sister at one end of our formal dining table. It’s long enough to seat twenty, but these dinners only host five.

I slowly enter the gleaming wood-paneled room and quickly survey the crystal wine glasses, the vase overflowing with harvest flowers, and the small salad plates at every place, including mine beside Hayden’s.

Dylan holds a flute of sparkling wine to her lips. I catch her mid-sip, and her blue eyes narrow. My aunt Penny gets out of her seat on the other side of Hayden’s brother Grant and trots toward me.

“Mercy, I don’t know what we’re going to do with you,” she laughs. “First you insist on taking lessons at that dreadful little pottery studio in town, and then you join that cheap little gym… Now you’re riding the city bus!”

Aunt Pen and I have always been close, despite her ridiculously old-fashioned ideas of how I should behave. For instance, private tutors are the only source of any instruction.

When Dylan took our parents’ place as leader in our house and in society, Penny gladly assumed the role of caregiver to Autumn and me. Autumn was eighteen at the time and already had one foot out the door, but I had just turned thirteen. I hadn’t had my first period or come into my shifter powers. Dylan couldn’t be bothered with such matters, but Penny held my hand through every change in my rapidly developing body. It causes me to be more tolerant of her opinions.

“I like riding the bus,” I say, giving her hand a squeeze before moving to the seat beside her. “It’s authentic.”

My oldest sister clears her throat. “Mercy…” A slide of blue eyes to her left, and I know what she’s communicating. “We’ve already set a place for you.”

“I was talking to Penny—”

“And you can continue from your seat across from her.” Her tone has the finality of an alpha, and I can’t disobey her in front of our guests.

Not that the Cross brothers are shifters or know about such things. More like Dylan would be livid at the thought of us fighting in front of an elder family. Hayden watches me round the table to his side, a cocky grin on his face. I want to take my buttered roll and rub it against his perfect nose.

“That’s a beautiful dress.” His low voice ripples through the air.

“It’s nothing special.”

I want to be difficult. I’m sick of Hayden being forced down my throat. Every person in this room — except possibly Penny — has some idea of who I should be, and not one of them cares in the slightest whether it lines up with what I want.

“I ran into Hal Junior this afternoon,” Dylan remarks as the server carries out our entrées. “He mentioned there might be an opening in the art department next year at the university. They’d like to add a pottery course.”

I almost drop my salad fork. “I am not interested in teaching. Especially not at a university known for science and astronomy.”

“It would be a great job for raising a family,” she continues, sounding more like a sixty-two year old than a thirty-two year old.

Reaching for my glass of red wine, I take a long sip to calm the fury tingling in my throat. I won’t even dignify that with an answer. She knows full well the only thing I’m looking for is a chance to get the hell out of here.

“I always wanted to teach,” Penny says with a sigh, trying to lighten the mood.

“You should send them your application,” I quip, replacing my glass. “You’re never too old to pursue your dreams.”

A plate of roast with dark brown gravy and mixed vegetables is set in front of me. The savory aroma makes my stomach grumble, and I pick up my knife.

“It would be a far better occupation for my future little sister than kickboxing instructor,” Grant says through a guffaw.