296
Matt
How the hell was I supposed to get myself a proper date without a way to contact her. I guess I'd have to try and get it during my next visit to Yellow Ridge.
"Now, if you have an active curse, the best thing you can do is eat well and keep the potion on you," the professor started writing on the board. "Here's the list of the best potions in order of most potent to least."
I winced, recognizing every single one of them from my mother's book and the prescription.
"Under what circumstances would someone have to take a mix of them?" Someone else asked. I was thankful that I didn't have to.
"They're damn near dead and probably went too long without feeding themselves properly. If you're a healer and you get prescribed all of that, don't worry. You won't die quickly. You'll have time to recover, but it's going to hurt like a bitch."
I winced, remembering the agony, but that was over now, hopefully. The pain came back every once in a while, but it wasn't all-consuming, and I was grateful for that. The class went on for what felt like hours before he closed his notebook and turned back.
"There's Survival 101. Next class, we'll talk thriving."
I got up and headed toward the door.
"Matt." I went still and turned back to Peter. He glided towards me, scanning me. "You're… looking better."
I cracked a wry smile. "I was told that Yellow Ridge was one of the best."
I swallowed as he eyed me.
"Are you…" Peter frowned. "Better, at least?"
I nodded stiffly.
"That's good," he said. "Could I entice you for dinner?"
I looked at him, dressed in his three-piece suit as if he'd just come from the office and winced.
"I don't think I'm dressed for it."
He scoffed. "We'd be going to a diner, not a 5-star restaurant. How about it?"
I considered saying no, but what good would that do me? He could have us thrown out of Black Moon's capital and the territory wholesale. It was better to just cooperate, at least until everything started to calm down.
Blackmail or not, I didn't have much of a choice. I nodded stiffly and followed him out of the building. I followed his car, which I realized he wasn't driving, and true to what he said, we parked in front of a little diner that smelled like it made everything under the sun.
We sat down. He smiled at the waiter and ordered a shake. I went with a float, and then the waiter was gone.
"You look nervous."
"Shouldn't I be?"
"It depends… do you have a reason to fear me?" Peter asked, cocking an eyebrow at me.
"Do I?"
He smiled. "I should think not. I didn't invite you to a meal to blackmail you… I invited you out to offer… help."
"Help?"
He nodded. "Help."
I didn't know what to say, not sure what to make of it.
"You're hiding," Peter said. "Though not very well. I'm offering to make it a bit more effective."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"… how are your attempts to sever ties with Blue Moon?" My gut knotted, and he tilted his head. "How long do you think you can keep Oren from finding out… Mr. Mountainheart?"
Shit. My blood went cold. I swallowed. Over his shoulder, I could see that woman who claimed to be the Moon Goddess smirking at me as if to say she told me so. I clenched my fist. The waiter came back to take our orders. I ordered what looked to be the biggest meal.
"How… did you know?"
He smiled. "You were tested in Black Moon."
Right. I'd forgotten about that, or rather, I hadn't let myself think about it, even though I had gotten tested using my mother's last name.
"Perhaps… a show of goodwill is in order?" Peter asked. "What do you say? A secret for a secret?"
I frowned but nodded slowly. He placed his hand on the table, narrowing his eyes, and slowly, light began to appear. I could feel the heat of it swirling in his hand. It was pulsing, glowing, and looked almost alive. I had never seen anything like it before. The red-gold ring on his hand glowed like a flame before he closed his hand and extinguished the flame.
Peter smirked at me, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of fear. Werewolves weren't supposed to be able to do magic, and while I knew why my mother was an exception and why I was, Peter's family were werewolves through and through.
"How the hell did you do that?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Peter looked at me, his eyes gleaming with a strange, almost predatory light.
"I'm more like you than you think," he said. "Enough for you to calm down a bit?"
I swallowed and nodded. When the waiter came back with our food, I tore into it. I didn't have anything to say.
"I'm offering a bit of help. Guidance even."
I scoffed. "I'm really not interested in another older brother figure at my age. Tony's enough of a problem."
"I can imagine so, but a) I'm not interested in being an older figure to you, b) you hardly have to hide the truth from me for fear of rejection, and c) the two of you would actually be the elder brothers in this equation." My eyes bulged, and he smirked. "And quite honestly, I have enough of those and have no interest in acquiring anymore… especially not you two helpless sods."
I flushed. "That's a bit much."
"Is it?" He smirked. "For his proposal for alliance, he didn't have the first clue about how to go about keeping his own pack in line."
I bared my teeth. "That definitely isn't fair."
"Oren had no intention of leaving you in power, Matt. There's nothing to be ashamed of for doing your best and being tricked from the beginning." I set my jaw. He smiled. "I'm offering a chance to change that if that's what you and Tony want or to simply be free of it."
I eyed him. "There's no way we're older than you."
"Should we compare IDs to know for sure?" He smirked.
"It could be a lie."
"A magical birth record does not lie," he said easily. "And don't be fooled by my silvering hair. It's a family trait. Every man of my family has aged a bit faster than others." He lifted his drink. The movement was smooth and elegant. He regarded me with a cool, almost regal gaze. I remembered finding him so irritating. I remember Tony deciding to start wearing suits because of seeing Peter on television one day.
I want that air of… control for the pack, Tony told me, pacing. Dad is practically a barbarian by comparison, and where will that get us other than more fear? That's not cooperation… That's not growth.
It would be a real problem if he were to find out he sort of idolized, hated, and mimicked a man younger than him.
"You want to know how much younger?"
"No," I said, shaking my head.
He lifted a shoulder. "The confusion is mostly born of the name. I am Peter III, my father was Peter II. We look very much alike when he was alpha of the pack. "
I frowned. "Your father is still alive."
"Very much so." I smiled. "Overseas with a great deal of my family, running rampant in the Black Forest. I suspect they'll be coming for the Festival or attending something else."
I bobbed my head. "You're offering help, but you're not the type to offer something for nothing."
"No, I'm not," he said. "But it will not be your soul, I think…" He narrowed his eyes. "Information."
"You already know—"
"Not about you," Peter said. "About Oren and his plans."
I grimaced. "Hate to break it to you, but we don't talk."
"Have you any idea what his plans are for the Spear of the Moon Wars?"
I blinked and shook my head. Then, I bit my lip.
"Hold on."
I sent my dad a message. A few moments later, he replied.
Are you talking with Peter?
I sighed. Yes.
Then, he called. I answered. "I didn't need you to call."
"Sure," Trent said. "Except you're ill-equipped for this conversation."
"Don't you think I'm a bit too old for you to be saying shit like that?"
He flashed me a grin. "Your uncle said you looked scared to death in class, took notes like a teenager, and didn't say a word."
My jaw dropped. "My uncle?"
"One of many. We, too, are a line who has only ever had sons." Then, he shifted his gaze. "How long has it been stolen?"
Peter tilted his head. "You have an idea, then."
"With the Awakening coming? Yes."
His eyes widened. He went pale. I frowned.
"Care to clue me in?" I said. "What the hell is the Awakening?"
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