Chapter 1
Margo
I closed my eyes and focused on the sounds coming from the surrounding forest. Some small creature scuffled in the undergrowth. A nearby brook made sounds that were almost a melody. Evergreen leaves rustled as though in harmony. My heartbeat thudded evenly. Other than that, silence encroached. Perfect for concentrating.
A sharp breeze prickled my nose, making me shiver, despite the bundle of layers I was wearing. Darkness danced with red and green lights behind my eyelids. I had been sitting still for so long that I could no longer feel my legs, and I still didn’t see death. Wasn’t sure I’d know even if I did.
I blew out a heavy breath. “This isn’t working. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Keep trying,” Amelia said from somewhere behind me. The wolf witch had been unsettlingly still and quiet for so long that I’d half-suspected she’d left already. “Focus. It worked before.”
With Dorian, when I knew somebody he cared about was about to die. Desperation was one hell of a motivator.
The memory of that day, when I’d finally used my gift to help someone before they died, made my skin itch. I opened my eyes. “Maybe there isn’t any death around.”
She snorted. “Something is always dying. Especially at this time of year.”
I rubbed my temples. “So I don’t have long-range on this thing.” This thing being my weird, wholly unreliable ability to seek out death—even when I didn’t want to find it. When I actually wanted to was obviously another story.
“We have no idea what you’re capable of.” Amelia released an exasperated hiss. “That’s why we’re practising.”
“I have homework.” And more than enough excuses not to go anywhere near death.
“That can wait. Stop distracting yourself.” She paced behind me. “This is too important to give up on, Margo. Imagine what you could do if you were able to control your power. The lives you could save.”
“It’s over. I used it all up.” One could only hope.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” She stormed in front of me, her hands on her hips and her tanned face like thunder. Her eyes shifted to a muddy mixture of brown and silver. The intimidating ferocity in her gaze more than made up for her petite size. She was the respected niece of the alpha, yet still feared by most of the werewolves in my boyfriend’s pack. They looked at me with the same eyes they used on her—wary and distrustful.
I couldn’t exactly blame them. She wanted me to play with death, but most of the time, I wanted to be like everybody else.
Her anger melted away, and the silver left her eyes. Without it, she looked normal—but never ordinary. “Sometimes we have to do things we’re afraid of,” she said in a gentler tone. “I learned that the hard way. Let’s find an easier way for you.”
“And if I can’t?”
“Then you keep trying. For as long as it takes.” She sat in front of me in a cross-legged position and tossed her hair over one shoulder. Her ear piercings glinted under a rare beam of light. “Now close your eyes.”
I obeyed because she was right. I needed to know more about myself, to understand what I could do and why. I hadn’t known the werewolves for long, but they had figured out I was a harbinger of some kind. Pity nobody knew exactly what that meant, not even my parents. I had been adopted as a toddler, and I didn’t remember my biological family. Maybe they were like me; maybe they had given me up because I was different.
“Listen to your heart beating.” Amelia’s voice was soft and soothing when she wasn’t barking at me. She was the omega of the pack, the one who calmed the others. I wondered if that trick worked on more than werewolves. “Now try to hear mine,” she continued. “And after you find me, reach outward. Connect with the world around you. That’s all I want you to do.”
I tried, concentrating on my pulse before moving on to Amelia. Her form appeared in my mind’s eye, a darkened silhouette. Straining, I held that focus, and she transformed with colours I couldn’t name—energy that told me she was alive, that death hadn’t wrapped itself around her shoulders. The thought came unbidden, and I shivered.
“It’s all right,” she said. “Keep trying.”
I tasted life on my tongue. How odd a thought that was, too. The novel sensation of an awareness of life webbed outward into the trees surrounding us. So much life. The wind vibrated against my skin. Pulsing, almost like a heartbeat. Life beat against me, comfortingly so, but something else encroached under the surface. I couldn’t put words to it, only that it was an undercurrent of something sour and bitter and bad. A tiny place in my chest grew cold.
The new feeling clung to me then expanded, roping around me to constrict my breathing. My heartbeat sped up. I wanted to pull away, to stop, but I felt trapped by an unseen force.
“Calm,” Amelia said.
That didn’t help. The chill spread outward, evolving into stinging pain that pricked at my skin, threatening to devour me. Death was everywhere. I didn’t want it near me, but I couldn’t break free. Panic flooded through me. “I… I can’t.”
“Margo, listen to me.”
Something inside of me wailed loud enough to drown out her voice. My control slipped out of my grasp. My ears thundered, my head pounded, my lips numbed, my eyes stung; I struggled to hold on. The more I turned from the bad feeling, the more my gift tried to take over, to send me away. Amelia wrapped her hands around mine, tethering me to my own body. I held on tight, panting as I fought against myself.
“You’re so cold,” she whispered.