Law of the Pack
Law of the Pack
By Rayna Midnight
Copyright ©2022 Rayna Midnight
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, events, locations, organisations, and businesses are a product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously.
No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical without express permission from the author.
Contents
Chapter One: Temporary Accommodation
Chapter Two: Strange Encounter
Chapter Three: Thinking About Her
Chapter Four: Seeing Things
Chapter Five: A Second Opinion
Chapter Six: Saved by a Wolf
Chapter Seven: Urban Legend or Reality
Chapter Eight: Long Awaited Arrival
Chapter Nine: A Bizarre Inheritance
Chapter Ten: What Lies Within the Woods
Chapter Eleven: New Roommates
Chapter Twelve: Protectors
Chapter Thirteen: Family History
Chapter Fourteen: Duty or Something More?
Chapter Fifteen: Making Friends and Enemies
Chapter Sixteen: Not Staying Silent
Chapter Seventeen: Gardening and Dancing
Chapter Eighteen: Taming the Beast
Chapter Nineteen: Everyone Has a Story
Chapter Twenty: Interrupted
Chapter Twenty-One: Heightened Feelings
Chapter Twenty-Two: Falling Fast
Chapter Twenty-Three: Making It Official
Chapter Twenty-Four: Some Positivity
Chapter Twenty-Five: Spurred into Action
Chapter Twenty-Six: A Cruel Manifestation
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Agony
Chapter Twenty-Eight: A Sight Like No Other
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Bewitched to Kill
Chapter Thirty: Something Has Begun
Chapter Thirty-One: New Territory
Chapter Thirty-Two: Turning Tides
Chapter Thirty-Three: Bad People
Chapter Thirty-Four: Proper Date
Chapter Thirty-Five: The Next Step
Chapter Thirty-Six: Sensing Trouble
Chapter Thirty-Seven: ‘She’
Chapter Thirty-Eight: Rift
Chapter Thirty-Nine: Family
Chapter Forty: Magic is Calling
Chapter Forty-One: Landscaping
Chapter Forty-Two: Advice From the Past
Chapter Forty-Three: The Facade
Chapter Forty-Four: Anticipation
Chapter Forty-Five: Fit for a Queen
Chapter Forty-Six: Playing the Part
Chapter Forty-Seven: Loud and Clear
Chapter Forty-Eight: The Truth Will Out
Chapter Forty-Nine: Confrontation
Chapter Fifty: Snatched
Chapter Fifty-One: The Coven
Chapter Fifty-Two: Sacrifice
Chapter Fifty-Three: An Old Friend
Chapter Fifty-Four: Returned
Chapter Fifty-Five: Clean Slate
Chapter Fifty-Six: Finally Home
About the Author
Chapter One: Temporary Accommodation
Margot
Waking up in a new house is always a little disorienting for the first few weeks. It’s as if your subconscious takes a while to catch up with the sudden change in location. I rolled right out of the bed this morning, forgetting that my bed is on the right hand side of the room as opposed to the left like in our old apartment. I haven’t even unpacked despite being here for three weeks already. I have to get the motivation for that task. It’ll come in a few more weeks when I have worn all my clothes and used all of my make up. Everything will be in piles on the floor rather than in the suitcases, and it’s only then that I get the urge to tidy. It may be dysfunctional, but I have a system.
Yes, we have moved that many times.
I knew my system after the first five times. This is the twentieth town in ten years. For the first eight years of my life, Mum kept us pretty steady. We lived in one place, I went to mainstream school, and we knew our neighbour’s names. Then Dad got sick and passed away all within a six month period. Everything quickly changed.
On my eighth birthday - just a few weeks after Dad died - Mum was robbed at knifepoint on her way home from the grocery store and she never felt safe in our hometown after that. We moved within days of the attack and have been moving ever since. Only, this move feels different. Mum is usually upbeat about moving. When we settled into a new place you could see the relief wash over her. This time, it has been the opposite. I’ve never seen my mum so withdrawn and jumpy. I’m unsure why she came back to Hallow Cove - her home and the place she met Dad. She said it felt like the right time, but it clearly still causes her grief to be here.
It has become her new routine in the mornings to get up at the crack of dawn, make herself a coffee, then sit in the conservatory. We call it a conservatory, but it is more like an enclosed veranda that stretches around two sides of the house. The house is perfectly designed for the location. The upstairs is the downstairs, so to speak. Our bedrooms are on the ground floor, so you can enjoy the view from the living areas during the day. It sits in a row of modern builds atop a cliff overlooking the cove below. For early spring, the cove is bustling with activity; surfers, kites, exercise groups, and dog walkers fill the sand. All of the shops and restaurants along the front are surprisingly busy too. The last beach town we lived in was a ghost town apart from the eight weeks of summer, so Hallow Cove is refreshing.
Mum stares out at the choppy seas, absentmindedly swirling the spoon in her coffee mug. Her Ipad Pro sits idly beside her, an art project discarded in her melancholy. Mum’s a freelance, digital artist. It’s a good career for someone who moves a lot. She makes decent money from it, not that we need it. Dad came from old money and left us the entirety upon his death. We’ve never lived extravagantly, though. Yes, the houses we move into are lovely, but Mum will only rent. It gives us the option for a swift upheaval without going through the rigmarole of selling.
The floorboard creaks under my foot and startles Mum out of her reverie. “Hey, Sweetness, there’s a storm blowing out there today,” she says, plastering on a fake smile. She retrieves a parcel from under the bench. “This arrived for you. I ordered you a new camera. I thought you could get back into your photography. It’s the perfect weather for it.”
I thank her and take the unnecessary, expensive gift. I hadn’t picked up a camera in about three years. I know what this gesture is, a bribe to keep me from straying too far. We had a huge blow out a few days ago about how she’s smothering me, especially since we came to Hallow Cove. I’m eighteen and should be going to house parties, festivals, and moaning to my friends about boys.
Friends.
If only.
The lifestyle we lead doesn’t lend itself to forming friendships, and sometimes, it gets claustrophobic being just the two of us..
“Actually, I was thinking of walking down to the cove to job hunt.”
Mum sighs. “I told you, you don’t need to work all the hours under the sun for a minimum wage, Margot. We are fortunate that Daddy saw to that. Focus on your photography. I could set up an online shop for you. You could make a career out of it.”
The bite in her words contradicts the smile on her face.
“I’m going stir crazy,” I snap. “I need to do something, anything away from you.”
I regret it as soon as I say it. The dark, solemn cloud that has been following her for the last three weeks comes back.
“I didn’t mean it to come out like that, but you know what I mean.”
Mum gets up and heads into the kitchen. “I don’t want to argue about this again, Margot.”
“Why come back here to just coop yourself up in this house? Surely, you have old friends here or places you want me to see and experience? I hoped coming back here would be freeing for us. You could face your grief for Dad and find closure, get back to home comforts and all that. Just because you’re not ready to do that doesn’t mean I’m not. I’m not asking for much, just a job. Most parents would be encouraging their adult children to stand on their own two feet.”
Mum’s glower disarms me for a moment. “I will adjust to being back here in my own good time. You have no idea how hard this is for me.”
“Then talk to me! Stop shutting yourself in your room or the conservatory and expect me to just accept this life for the next six months before you decide to up and move again.”
“We’re not leaving here, Margot. I told you that this would be the last move and I meant it.”
I scoff. “I’ll believe it when I see it. I think that letting me have my own life, my independence, scares you. You're worried that the next time you choose to uproot again I may not want to come with you. I’m an adult now, Mum. I don’t have to follow you around the country anymore.”
We stare at each other in heated silence.
Mum’s mug clatters into the sink and she marches back into the conservatory, slamming the door as she goes. Maybe I overstepped the mark, but it wasn’t strictly lies. I’m no longer legally bound to her, but keeping me so close isn’t doing anything other than pushing me away.
I grab my coat from the rack and set off for the cove.
Chapter Two: Strange Encounter
Margot
The wind practically blows me all the way down to the cove. My hair is windswept and bedraggled by the time I make it to the promenade. Every shop, restaurant, and ice cream stand I enquire within tells me they are not recruiting and to come back in the summer. We probably won’t be here in the summer.
Feeling dejected, I stroll along the beach, watching the surf school practising manoeuvres on the sand and the men flying an enormous kite that lifts them dangerously off their feet.
Across the cove, my attention is drawn to the cliffs. Those cliffs are directly opposite the cliffs our house is perched on. Atop is just dense woodland. There is a metal staircase down to the beach from that side, but I noticed when we first moved here that there is a large ‘Private Property, No Access’ sign hanging across the bottom. However, today there is a man jogging down the stairs, quite spritely considering how steep they appear. He strides across the sand and into the nearest cafe.
My attention wanes as quickly as it is captured, and once again, I take to watching the sports taking place. I continue to wander across the compacted, damp shingle and head over to the small kiosk selling hot chocolate to order myself the most self-indulgent, glutinous drink on the menu with extra whipped cream and sprinkles..
The weather is steadily worsening, and I eventually plan to head home and face the storm brewing there, but I’m not in a rush. Walking the beach is soothing for me. I feel like I can finally breathe. As I step back onto the sand, I spot the man I was watching before emerge from the cafe just a few yards ahead with a tray of smoothies in his hands. He is handsome; dark hair tied back out of his face, towering height, and the most piercing brown eyes. He’s older than me, but not by much; early twenties at a guess.
The wind riles up, the gust whipping my hot chocolate right out of my hand. I groan as my heaven in a cup splatters on the beach. The man’s attention is suddenly on me, eyes boring, expression fixed. For a moment he looks set to turn and make his way back to the steps, but his severe expression gives way to a coy smile.
“That just about sums up my day,” I sigh, smiling back.
He looks at his watch. “And it’s only 10.30 in the morning.” He steps up to the kiosk and hands over some money. “The same again for the lady, please.”
“Oh, thank you, but you don’t have to do that.” I can feel my cheeks flushing crimson.
“Happy to change the course of your bad day,” he says, handing me a fresh hot chocolate.
“Thank you--”
He holds out his free hand. “Beau Murphy.”
I shake it. “Margot Adamson.”
“Are you heading this way?” he asks, stepping in time with me. “I’ve not seen you around here before. Are you new to Hallow Cove?”
I point to our house at the top of the cliff. “Yes, we’re renting the house just there. My Mum is from Hallow Cove originally, but it is my first time here.”
He whistles through his teeth. “Nice place.” Again, I feel myself flare with embarrassment. I’m never comfortable when someone talks money with me. I think he senses it because he swiftly changes the subject. “How do you like it here?”
I shrug. “It’s pretty. I’ve moved around a lot, so I tend not to get too drawn in by a place.”
“I guess it is pretty,” Beau replies, staring out to sea.
I’m very conscious that my hair is wind swept and pointing in every direction. I steal a glance at Beau’s profile. He has a strong jawline that tenses a little as the wind picks up once more. His attention flits back to me, and as our eyes meet I sense that he’s confused or unsure of me.
“You say your mum is from here?” he asks.
I take a sip of my hot chocolate. “She left Hallow Cove with my Dad when she was pregnant with me. I don’t think she could face coming back sooner. My dad passed away when I was eight.”
Why am I telling this to a stranger? It seems that having adult conversation with someone who isn’t Mum has given me verbal diarrhoea.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Beau says, softly. “I lost my Mum when I was ten. I’ve still got my Dad, though.”
We have more in common than I first thought. “Do you live in town?”
Beau points to the cliffs with the staircase. “I live just through the woods. It’s known to locals as The Estate.”
A car horn from the road makes us both jump. Mum’s car is parked at the side of the road and she looks set to explode at any moment. She honks again when I turn my back on her.
She winds down the window and hangs her head out. “Margot!”
I cringe outwardly, inwardly, any way there is to cringe. “I’m sorry, that’s my Mum. I have to go.”
Mum opens her door, the wind almost blowing it closed again. In that moment, Beau locks in on her as if entranced by something. His mouth falls open as the pair stare each other down.
“Margot Jane, get your butt in this car right now!” Mum shouts one last time before scrambling back inside the car and slamming the door shut once more.
“I can only apologise for her manners. She hasn’t been herself since we arrived here. Thank you for the hot chocolate. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
Beau swallows hard. “Um, yeah, no worries. See you later, Margot.”
I jog away, fury raging in my chest along with utter embarrassment. Mum tears off as soon as my butt hits the seat, nearly swerving into oncoming traffic.
“What the hell was that?” I shriek at her. “Could you be any ruder?”
Mum shakes her head in anger. I’ve never seen her so flustered and worked up. “Do you know how dangerous it is to wander around with strangers you’ve just met?”
“We were talking… on the beach… surrounded by people. It’s official, you’ve gone insane. I’m eighteen, Mum. An adult. You understand that, right? I’ll talk to whomever I like. Never embarrass me like that again.”
Chapter Three: Thinking About Her
Beau
My encounter with Margot has thrown me through a loop. I could sense something powerful about her, something different, but then when I saw her mother… I can’t quite process what I felt. I don’t know what it means. Perhaps it is why I was drawn to Margot.
“Earth to Beau,” Penny calls, clicking her fingers. “What’s up with you today?” br />
All eyes are on me as I mumble some spiel about being tired. These meetings are boring at the best of times, but I can usually make it look like I’m interested.
“Good job you’re not on duty tonight, then,” she says, eyebrow raised. “Actually, I want you all on high alert twenty-four seven,” she continues. “We’ve been seeing more activity these last few weeks. We’re not sure what has caused it, but something is drawing them over the boundary.”
My attention is piqued and Penny notices.
“Yes, Beau, something to add?”
“No, nothing,” I lie. I have plenty to add, but I’m not saying a thing until I do a little more research.
Coby nudges me with an elbow. “You’re such a bad liar,” he whispers.
Samia rolls her eyes. “We’ll get it out of him later,” she says, taking Coby’s hand under the table.
When my best friends got together when we were teenagers it was weird at first, but now, it’s as if they’ve always been Coby and Samia the couple. The three of us have been inseparable since we were kids, but I can’t help feeling like a third-wheel lately. Maybe it’s because recently I’ve been feeling out of sorts. I can’t explain it… I’m stuck in a rut.
Penny calls the meeting to a close and marches out of the room, high heels clicking as she goes. She glances over her shoulder at me, her short, red hair like fire around her face. “Get your head straight tonight, Beau. Oh, and check in with your Dad. Take him some coffee or something. The poor guy has been fixing the big mower all day.”
Samia grabs her bottle of water from the floor, huffing her thick curls back from her face. “You’re on Penny’s radar. You don’t want to be on Penny’s radar.”
Coby agrees with a vehement nod of his head. “What is going on, though? You’ve been weird all day. This isn’t something to do with that girl you met on the beach, is it?”
I follow them out of the room. “You’ll know as soon as I know.”