Crystal Lake Pack: The Complete Series: A Reverse Harem Shifter Romance Read online

  Crystal Lake Pack

  The Complete Trilogy

  Candace Wondrak

  © 2019 Candace Wondrak

  © 2020 Candace Wondrak

  All Rights Reserved.

  Book cover by Elizabeth Dunlap at Pixie Covers.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Books by Candace Wondrak are only available at Amazon. If you are reading elsewhere, please note it is an illegal, pirated copy, uploaded without my permission. I, the author, nor the distributor received payment for the copy, and if prosecuted violation comes with a fine of up to $250,000. Please do not pirate books.

  Limitless

  Undying

  Evermore

  Limitless

  Chapter One – Addie

  Everything in my life changed because of a C-minus. Instead of spending a full four years at my chosen college, I would only spend five months learning and studying—but it wasn’t totally my fault. It wasn’t like I meant for any of it to happen. Things just…spiraled. I couldn’t even explain it, really, but here’s the gist.

  I was expelled five months after starting my freshman year at college for attacking a professor in front of the class. Granted, it wasn’t like I meant to do any of it, and to this day I still wasn’t sure what the heck happened, but I knew it was because I got a terrible grade on a research paper I happened to spend weeks working on.

  You see, I was a straight-A student. I didn’t get Cs. I never even got Bs. I was always above a four-point-zero GPA, and I had hoped to keep it that way all throughout college. It got to the point where I was anal about it. Coming from a single-mother family, I wanted the best chance at a good job after college, and what better way than to graduate summa cum laude?

  But nothing in my life could ever go right, so here I was, driving in the car with my mom.

  It wasn’t like I really attacked my professor. First, my 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, I didn’t even attack him. It wasn’t like I went crazy and threw a punch, or a kick, or any other weapon.

  The school board, however, held the belief I’d used a weapon, when in reality all I had done was use my 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, beside the fact I was expelled and kicked out of college, and beside the other fact that I’d never once gotten into trouble in my entire life, I didn’t touch the book. The book just…flew at the grad student’s head and managed to, uh, knock him out?

  Okay, I knew it sounded weird, and it was precisely why I said not a word in the hearing. How could I defend myself? I’d been the last student in the lecture hall, staying behind because I wanted to talk to the teacher about my terrible grade. His back had been turned to me, 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.

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

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

  But how else could I explain what happened?

  My mom 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.

  I was logical, but stubborn; the latter I definitely inherited from my mom. Maybe the first I got from my father, but I wouldn’t know, honestly. He’d died before I was born, and Sarah never really talked about him much, which I respected.

  Sometimes sorrow was something best left forgotten.

  I knew my mom was beyond disappointed in me. Anger and rashness were two things she’d always told me to work on. It came on instinct, sometimes too strong. Sarah had done her best raising me as a single mother—raising me as a single mother since she was only seventeen—and she only wanted what was best for me. Now that she neared forty, the pressure was on.

  And I had failed miserably at trying to be an adult. Now what would my future hold? A part-time, minimum wage job at some local retail establishment? There was nothing wrong with it, but the thought made my stomach churn, even though I 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 I would pack away for the rest of my 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 my dorm room shoved into the vehicle. No radio played, nothing but the sound of wind seeping through the inch-wide crack between the window and the car door on my mom’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 me 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 I needed another thing to feel bad about. I’d figure out a way to pay my mom back somehow. Somehow, with my 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.”

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

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

  I was screwed, and now my life would pay for it. My future.

  Would Sarah even believe me, or would she look at me like I was crazy? I didn’t particularly enjoy being stared at like I had three eyes, like I was nuts. I had to be though, otherwise how could I 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?

  I wasn’t a drinker or a partier. I had hardly ever left my dorm room unless it was to go to class, the library, or to get food. My friends from hig
h school had left to go to colleges out of state, so I had no one nearby.

  Honestly, I wasn’t a huge fan of people, anyway. Most people were jerks. Or perverts. Best not to deal with them.

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

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

  Yeah, I wanted to say. A really bad, we-need-an-ambulance accident. “Of course, it was an accident. I’d never attack anyone.” I’d thought about it before, but that was normal, wasn’t it? Everyone imagined some violence every now and then, but they were able to keep their baser instincts at bay. Humans were just animals with better self-control.

  Usually.

  “I know sometimes things happen, Addie,” Sarah was unusually understanding, a complete switch from what she was mere moments ago.

  “Not these types of things,” I muttered, tugging at the sleeves of my jean jacket. My light brown hair was highlighted with pink strands. When I had time, when I had no coursework to do, I liked doing my own hair. It was fun, relaxing. It got my mind off of things, at least temporarily.

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

  Now…now I 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 my mom had the courage to say, “Drugs?”

  I wanted to shoot myself. “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 an attitude,” Sarah practically growled as she made a left turn. They drew nearer and nearer home, the place I’d thought I would 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.” My mom’s tone was bitter and upset, and I bit my tongue, stopping myself from saying anything I might regret.

  I was a logical one, but sometimes my emotions got the better of me, what could I say?

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

  I wouldn’t tell my mom the truth. How could I? I didn’t want to be put into some hospital or something, whatever happened with mentally unstable people today. I didn’t think I was making it up, but…what other option was there?

  I probably was crazy. How else could I explain the floating book? Maybe I had a hallucination or something.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, returning my green stare to the window, watching as the houses we passed became 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 me out. My mom and I were a team, and my mom was fiercely protective of me. Odds were, I could come home, covered in blood, and Sarah would offer to help hide the body.

  Within fifteen minutes, Sarah turned the car onto the long, winding driveway of my 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? Something I wouldn’t miss.

  As I 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 our 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 I couldn’t complain, even if it made me the butt of a lot of jokes in school.

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

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

  Another night, though. Tonight, I would wallow.

  Chapter Two – Addie

  Wallow I did.

  I unpacked, thought about texting my 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 I knew that, and I’d never set foot in a party. At this rate, maybe I should’ve. I’d gotten zip, zilch, nada for being a good and studious girl. I might as well have had some fun when I had the chance.

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

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

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

  I was downright sad, and I couldn’t be mad at anyone but myself.

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

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

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

  Gazing up at the moon, strange as it was, calmed me. Made me feel less sad than I was just moments ago. Something about its presence always made me feel more at peace. Probably because I grew up with a parent who was so into psychic crap that some of it had worn off on me.

  Some people acted crazy when the full moon was high in the sky; I felt alive, content. Happy, even though I had nothing to be happy about.

  I let out a soft sigh, slowly wriggling out of my jean jacket and slipping out of my shoes. I shuffled back to the bed after tearing myself from the window, from the beautiful moon, and threw my body onto my pillow. Sleep took me, but it was not a dreamless sleep.

  It hardly ever was.

  Darkness. A world of black. I could see nothing, but I knew there was a world of nature around me. I could feel the dirt between my toes and the cool, crisp air caressing my cheeks. I was outside, naked, from the feel of my chilly body, and I wasn’t alone, if the heavy breathing behind me meant anything.
/>   A slow, drawn-out inhale, into a deep, wide chest; an even slower exhale, sharp and loud, in tune with my breathing. With my heartbeat. I knew I 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 me whole.

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

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

  Okay, so maybe I 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 I didn’t care.

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

  I changed into some shorts and a tank top, bounding down the stairs to find Sarah 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, I mused, silently tiptoeing to the cupboard where the cereal was, Sarah probably would believe me if I said the textbook had floated up by itself and launched its hard spine at the back of my professor’s head. My mom was a believer. It was one thing I never inherited, something I always doubted.