Limitless: A Reverse Harem Shifter Romance (Crystal Lake Pack Book 1) Read online

  Limitless

  Crystal Lake Pack

  Candace Wondrak

   Copyright Candace Wondrak 2019

  All Rights Reserved.

  Cover by Lizzie over at Pixie Covers.

  Chapter One

  Everything in Addie’s life changed because of a C-minus. Instead of spending a full four years at her chosen college, she only spent five months learning and studying. Yes, all it took was five months before she got expelled for attacking a professor in front of the class, all because she received a terrible grade on a research paper she spent weeks working on.

  She was a straight-A student. She didn’t get Cs. She never even got Bs. She was always above a four-point-zero GPA, and she had hoped to keep it that way all throughout college.

  But nothing in her life could ever go right, could it?

  And it wasn’t like she really attacked her professor. First, her professor wasn’t really a professor anyway. He was a grad student, forced into teaching by the college, who didn’t give a crap about what he taught or whether or not his stupid grades would ruin his students’ lives. And secondly, Addie didn’t even attack him. It wasn’t like she went crazy and threw a punch, or a kick, or any other weapon.

  The school board, however, held the belief she’d used a weapon, when in reality all Addie did was use her textbook. Heavy as all hell, so old its corners weren’t even sharp. Apparently textbooks were considered weapons in certain circles.

  The weirdest part of it all was, besides the fact Addie was expelled and kicked out of the college, because she’d never once gotten into trouble in her entire life, that she didn’t touch the book. The book just…flew at the grad student’s head and managed to, uh…knock him out?

  Addie knew it sounded weird, and it was precisely why she said not a word in the hearing. She couldn’t defend herself, could she? She’d been the last student in the lecture hall, staying behind because she wanted to talk to the teacher about her terrible grade. His back had been turned to her, so it wasn’t like he saw the book magically float in the air and whap him in the back of the head, but…

  Yeah, there was no coming back from that.

  Addie stared out of the window, contemplating life, wondering what she was going to do with herself now her transcripts were ruined. It wasn’t as if any college would take her now, not with this incident on her record. Unless she got it expunged, somehow. But it was her word against a grad student’s, and since no one believed in books just floating by themselves, all evidence pointed to her as being the culprit.

  Magic. That stuff wasn’t real, was it?

  But how else could she explain what happened?

  Her mother drove in furious silence, white knuckles on the steering wheel. Sarah was not the kind of woman who fumed silently; she was always the kind of person who spoke out first, before thinking things over. Addie was logical, but stubborn; the latter she definitely inherited from her mother. Maybe the first she got from her father, but she wouldn’t know. He’d died before she was born, and Sarah never really talked about him much, which Addie respected.

  Sorrow was something best left forgotten.

  Addie knew her mother was beyond disappointed in her. Anger and rashness were two things Addie always had to work on. They came on instinct, sometimes too strong. Sarah had done her best raising her as a single mother—raising her as a single mother when she was only seventeen—and she only wanted what was best for Addie. Now that she neared forty, the pressure was on.

  And Addie had failed miserably at trying to be an adult. Now what would her future hold? A part-time, minimum wage job at some local retail establishment? The thought made her stomach churn, even though she knew a lot of recent graduates were stuck in jobs like that until they stumbled upon something better.

  Maybe degrees were useless. Maybe it would only have been a stupid slip of paper Addie would pack away for the rest of her life and forget about.

  Or maybe not.

  Sarah’s blonde hair was pulled back in a messy bun, her hazel eyes narrowed on the road. Her little car was jam-packed full of stuff, all of Addie’s dorm room packed into a tiny vehicle. No radio played, nothing but the sound of wind seeping through the inch-wide crack between the window and the car on her mother’s side. She wore sweats and a baggy t-shirt, her usual clothes when she was doing telephone work.

  “When are we going to talk about what happened?” Sarah asked, flicking Addie a glare as she drove. “I heard what happened from the Dean, but I need to hear it from you. Addie, what happened? I swear on every God there is—if you don’t tell me before we pull into the driveway, you will never leave your room except to use the bathroom. And even that’s generous, considering how much money that damned place cost me. I doubt I’ll see a penny of it back.”

  As if Addie needed another thing to feel bad about. She’d figure out a way to pay her mother back somehow. Somehow, with her part-time, minimum wage job.

  “Adeline,” Sarah warned, “I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt, but I will not give it to you for long. I would advise you not to ignore it.”

  Addie’s bright green eyes turned away from the window as she glanced at her mother. Addie didn’t look much like her; Sarah always said she got her light brown hair from her father, and inherited his eyes, too. She was also shorter than her mother, and nowhere near as muscular. For a psychic fortune-teller, her mother could pack a punch that would knock even a grown man off his feet.

  How could she tell Sarah her textbook had magically floated in the air and smacked her professor so hard he fell unconscious and had to be taken out of the building on a stretcher? Really, Addie was fortunate no one pressed charges, so long as she left campus without making an uproar. She’d thought about it, lost sleep over it, but there was nothing she could’ve done. No cameras in the room, no other witnesses.

  Addie was screwed, and now her life would pay for it. Her future.

  Would her mother even believe her, or would she look at her like she was crazy? Addie didn’t particularly enjoy being stared at like she had three eyes, like she was nuts. She had to be though, otherwise how could she suggest magic was the culprit? Magic couldn’t be real. If it was, everyone would know about it. Science would be all over it, the government would try to control it. Right?

  Addie wasn’t a drinker or a partier. She had hardly ever left her dorm room unless it was to go to class, the library, or to get food. Her friends from high school had left to go to colleges out of state, so she had no one nearby. Honestly, she wasn’t a huge fan of people anyway. Most people were jerks. Or skeeves.

  “Mom,” Addie said, trying to sound normal even though her entire life was falling apart around her, “it’s…complicated. I’m not sure what happened.”

  Sarah was unimpressed with her plea. “It sounds like you attacked your professor.” They drove into the sunset, her eyes darting to Addie. “Did you attack him? Was it an accident?”

  Yeah, Addie wanted to say. A really bad, we-need-an-ambulance accident. “Of course it was an accident. I’d never attack anyone.” She’d thought about it before, but she never actually did. That was normal, wasn’t it? Keeping her baser instincts at bay. Humans were just animals with better self-control.

  Usually.

  “Sometimes things happen, Addie,” Sarah was unusually understanding, a complete switch from what she was five minutes ago.

  “Not these types of things,” Addie said, tugging at the sleeves of her jean jacket. Her light brown hair was lined with pink highlighted strands. When she had time, when she had no
coursework to do, she liked doing her own hair. If she had friends, she could maybe make it a side hustle, because it was something she was good at.

  But she had no friends. None in the state, currently. And even then…her friends hardly texted her. It was like they moved on with their lives, forgot her when they went out of state. Try and try as Addie might, people moved on. Friends left, and she was never the type to make more, since her little circle had been all she needed during elementary and high school.

  Now…now she was just a sad, expelled girl living with her mother, destined for an average existence, no matter what her dumb GPA was and what she would have accomplished in grad school.

  “Is something going on with you?” Sarah asked, “Any parties or drinking or…” There was a long pause before her mother got the courage to say, “Drugs?”

  Addie wanted to shoot herself. “No, Mom. No parties, no drinking, and definitely no drugs. I’m as clean as a whistle. We can swing by and have me tested on the way home—”

  “I don’t need any attitude,” Sarah practically growled as she made a left turn. They drew nearer and nearer home, the place Addie thought she’d only spend summers and holidays. “Especially not from you, not now. I’m only trying to understand what could’ve possibly happened to make you attack one of your teachers.” Her mother’s tone was bitter and upset, and Addie bit her tongue, stopping herself from saying anything she might regret.

  She was a logical one, but sometimes her emotions got the better of her.

  And sometimes freaky crap just happened, like magically floating books.

  Addie wouldn’t tell her mother the truth. How could she? She didn’t want to be put into some hospital or something, whatever happened with mentally unstable people today. Not that she meant she was mentally unstable, because she totally wasn’t, but…oh, who was she trying to kid? She probably was crazy. How else could she explain the floating book? Maybe she developed a hallucination or something.

  “I’m sorry,” Addie whispered, returning her green stare to the window, watching as the houses they passed grew more and more familiar.

  “Yeah,” Sarah muttered. “I bet you are. You’re also lucky I’m not one of those parents who can kick their kid out, but I won’t have you mooching off me forever. We’ll…we’ll figure something out.”

  As if she could ever kick Addie out. She and her mother were a team, and her mother was fiercely protective of her. Odds were, Addie could come home, covered in blood, and her mother would offer to help hide the body.

  Within fifteen minutes, her mother turned the car onto the long, winding driveway of Addie’s childhood home. A quaint, two-story house nestled between giant pine trees, a forest directly adjacent to the back yard. The neighbors’ houses were far enough away that their business remained their own. Not like a college campus, where everyone was packed so tightly like sardines in a can.

  Gross, in more ways than one. Sharing a bathroom with thirty other girls? Addie wouldn’t miss it.

  As she got out of the car, Sarah checked the time on her phone. “You’re unpacking the car. I’m late for a phone reading.” Because in their small town, not many people wanted to pay an exorbitant amount for some stupid psychic reading that was all mumbo-jumbo anyway. Phone readings and her website were her top sellers. It was enough to pay the bills, so Addie couldn’t complain.

  Not too much, anyway.

  Heck, maybe Addie could learn the business, since her future prospects were shot thanks to a magically-floating, ridiculously-overpriced textbook. As she thought this, she paused as she reached into the trunk for the first batch of luggage and boxes. Could she see herself as a fortune teller or a tarot card reader?

  No. Not at all. She’d have to figure out something else to make money.

  Another night, though. Tonight, Addie would wallow.

  Chapter Two

  Wallow she did.

  Addie unpacked and thought about texting her friends but quickly decided against it—they were probably all having fun, anyways. It was a Friday night. Friday was prime partying time when it came to college campuses, even she knew that, and she’d never set foot in a party. At this rate, maybe she should’ve. She’d gotten zip, zilch, nada for being a good and studious girl. She might as well have had some fun when she had the chance.

  And now she was stuck at home with her mother, with those blasted eagle eyes, always watching her, waiting for her to explain her side of things. At least Sarah didn’t lock her up in her room like she’d threatened, but at this point, Addie had nothing but her room. It would’ve been a worse punishment to take her room and her bed away.

  She didn’t even eat dinner, much to her mother’s annoyance. Addie wasn’t hungry. She lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, watching as the light coming in from the window dimmed and darkened until night fell outside. She still had all her clothes from today on, including her shoes, but she was too depressed to take anything off.

  How in the heck did she so royally screw up? What did she do to deserve this? Maybe, Addie thought, she was just cursed from birth. A depressing thought, one she was usually able to combat with happy thoughts of her future and the love she had with her mother, but tonight her thoughts would be nothing but morose.

  Addie was downright sad, and she couldn’t be mad at anyone but herself.

  And that stupid grad student who gave her a frigging C-minus on a paper she’d poured weeks of sweat into.

  Hours ticked by, and eventually Addie crawled off her bed and wandered to the window. A strange, restless feeling rose within her, and as she leaned her forehead on the glass, her eyes took in the world of night outside. It was a clear sky, a giant silver moon hanging in its dark, starry depths. A full moon, she was nearly certain.

  Addie set a hand on the glass, the tips of her nails dragging along the smooth, cool surface. She wanted to run, dash through the forest sitting behind her house and let it all out, let everything go. An impulse, one she’d never give in to, but the thought was nice enough.

  Gazing up at the moon, strange as it was, calmed her. Made her feel less sad than she was just moments ago. Something about its presence always made Addie feel more at peace. Probably because she grew up with a mother who was so into psychic crap that some of it had worn off on her. Some people acted crazy when the full moon was high in the sky; Addie felt alive, content. Happy, even though she had nothing to be happy about.

  Addie let out a soft sigh, slowly wriggling herself out of her jean jacket and slipping out of her shoes. She shuffled to her bed after tearing herself from the window, from the beautiful moon, and threw herself onto her pillow. Sleep took her, but it was not a dreamless sleep. It hardly ever was.

  Darkness. A world of black. Addie could see nothing, but she knew there was a world of nature around her. She could feel the dirt between her toes and the cool, crisp air caressing her cheeks. She was outside, naked, from the feel of her chilly body, and she wasn’t alone, if the heavy breathing behind her meant anything.

  A slow, drawn-out inhale, into a deep, wide chest; an even slower exhale, sharp and loud, in tune with her own breathing. With her heartbeat. Addie knew she should be fearful, should run, but why run from the inevitable? Why run at all when acceptance was so much easier?

  The darkness and the heavy breathing swallowed her whole.

  Addie woke with a start. She breathed in sharply, sitting up in her bed. Her head pounded, and she reached a hand to her forehead, rubbing her temples to try and help the light ache resting within her skull. Was it because of her dream, the strange darkness and the odd breathing, or was it because of all the stress that had taken over her life lately? Stress gave headaches like no one’s business.

  Light flooded her bedroom, alerting her to the fact she’d overslept. She nearly leapt out of her bed before she remembered she wasn’t in her dorm room, she had no papers to worry about, and she was back at home, in her childhood bed and her old room, boy band posters and all.

  Okay, so maybe
she hadn’t fully outgrown those yet, because some of those bands still came out with catchy songs the radio overplayed the moment they were released, but Addie didn’t care. She had no friends to come over anyway.

  Growing up, she hardly ever had friends over, mostly because they always asked question after question about her mother, if Sarah could play at their birthday parties and other stupid and insulting things. It was easier for her to go over to her friends’ houses rather than vice versa.

  Addie changed into some shorts and a tank top, bounding down the stairs to find her mother busy on the phone, sitting at the kitchen table. Her tarot cards were splayed out, some upside-down, some sideways, and she was busy chattering away, trying to be mystical through the phone line. A bunch of random stuff that could probably mean something to the majority of the population. It was how stuff like that worked.

  Hell, Addie mused, silently tiptoeing to the cupboard where the cereal was, Sarah probably would believe her if she said her textbook had floated up by itself and launched its hard spine at the back of her professor’s head. Her mother was a believer. It was one thing Addie never inherited, something she always doubted.

  Aliens, magic, the paranormal and the supernatural. Addie was fully in the thought process that if it was real, there’d be evidence by now. Hard, concrete evidence no one could deny. Possessions, hauntings. Those were all faked and disputed. If things like magic existed, society would be all up on it like flies on a pig.

  Addie went into the living room, giving her mother peace and quiet after pouring milk into her cereal. The room was narrow, but it served its purpose. One couch, one recliner, a thin coffee table between the seating and the television set on the opposite wall. Half a dozen pictures of Addie and her mother graced the wall behind the TV, all various stages of her life. Sarah had her so young, half the time they were more like friends than mother and daughter.

  Sighing, she ate her cereal in silence. Two bites, and just as she reached for the remote to turn on the television—as quietly as she could of course—her mother rounded the corner from the kitchen, no longer on the phone. Today her blonde hair was pulled back by a gypsy-looking bandana, all purple and tie-dyed. Addie hesitated, her finger hovering over the power button, a huge bite of cereal in her mouth, having stopped chewing the moment she came into view.