Wounded Kiss (To Be Claimed 1)

With her lips turned down and her gaze looking off to nowhere, I know Lizzie’s thinking the same things I am. My hand grips hers as fiercely as she held me that first night she cried in my arms, in my bedroom when we were only kids. “It’s going to be fine,” I reassure her, surprised my voice is even as the words come out.

A tight smile is my reward, followed by a shrug, then my Lizzie is back. “I’m fine, just … remembering.” It takes all my strength to simply nod, pulling ahead in the line for coffee.

Silence brings memories.

We came last year to watch, just to see what it would be like. It was Lizzie’s idea. She was far worse than she is now. Just being around the werewolves made her tremble.

We nearly left, but we had to know what to expect so we could prepare ourselves. About a hundred girls were lined up single file and in alphabetical order, then they crossed the stage. If I had seen a picture of it and didn’t know the context, I would have thought it was a graduation. A snort leaves me at the comparison. Unlike a graduation, the atmosphere was ominous and grim with no speeches or sense of joy. The werewolves came, the women walked in front of them, and then the shifters left. It was somber and perfunctory, almost like neither party wanted to be there. I know for a fact that was true on our end.

Even though the werewolves were mostly covered by their cloaks, it wasn’t hard to tell that they were pure muscle. Nothing but killing machines. I couldn’t see much from the other side of the stadium but Sherri, one of the cashiers at the bookstore, told me that they looked “scary as fuck,” as she so eloquently put it. She’s a senior in college now, so her last time to walk was last year. She told us she couldn’t be more grateful.

I wondered why all the women walked quickly and quietly with their heads bowed, but I guess that’s why. Not that I can blame them. If someone were staring at me like they wanted to rip my throat out—again, Sherri’s phrase, not mine—I wouldn’t want to look them in the eye either. Especially knowing they could legally take me against my will.

So yes, head down and a fast pace.

“You okay?” Lizzie asks with a bravado I know is fake, but I love her anyway for trying to be strong for us both. Lizzie licks her lips and then pulls out a tube of gloss from her bag. She can barely look me in the eyes.

“Fine. We’re going to be just fine.” I pat her hand before pulling up to get our drinks and then taking off. Time to face the music, so to speak.

“Of course we are.” She smacks her lips after applying a thin, glittery coat of gloss but I notice how her hand trembles. “And then we’re going to whoop it up at Jake’s party.” I force a small smile for her and try to shake off my nervousness. If not for me, then for her. At least I’m concentrating on the party tonight instead of the offering. Arriving at the college a few minutes later, we park in the designated spots for “those participating in the offering.” I turn off the car and grab my stuff from the back seat, keeping my snide thoughts to myself.

“You think Mike’s going to be there?” she asks as she opens her door. I follow her lead and walk quickly with her to the stadium entrance, trying to figure out what she’s even asking. Right. Jake’s party. We only have a few minutes left to get in there for the offering. If you don’t make it, you’re forced to leave town. Supposedly. No one ever risks being kicked out of a protected area, so I don’t really know if that particular law would be enforced. Not that I have any intention of finding out firsthand.

“He told me he would.” She’s been trying to decide whether or not she wants to make a move on Mike. I don’t think she should. He keeps coming into the bookstore just to flirt with her and never buys a book. He’s worked at his father’s construction company since last year when we all graduated. Whenever I suggest he buy something, he always tells me he has no need for any books, not that he has any time to read. He could use a book, though. He’s kind of an ass and she deserves way better than him.

“Do you really have the hots for Mike?” I question, not bothering to hide my disdain. I’m all for blue-collar guys. Just thinking of those rough hands on me sends shivers across my shoulders in a good way. I’m just not into assholes. And Mike is way more ass than he is anything else. A shrug is all I get in reply while we both sign our names at the check-in station. After we’re each handed a pamphlet, we make our way up the steel steps to sit in the back. I toss the handout into the trash as we walk. It’s full of facts about Shadow Falls and how the treaty was formed. I read it last year and I’m not really a history type of girl. Even if I was, that’s not the history I want to read about. It’s basically designed to sugarcoat the one unquestionable requirement from the wolves. If you’re chosen, you must leave with them that instant. No packing your things, no saying goodbye to friends and family. They take you. Plain and simple. I don’t need a pretty piece of paper to brighten up that bit of information.