Redamancy

Lyra Winters

Copyright © 2020 Lyra Winters

All rights reserved. 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 permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Editor and Proofreader: Jessica at Diamond Editing and Proofreading Services

Alpha Reader: Kelly

Beta Readers: Hayley, Katelynn

Visit my website at lyrawinters.com

Printed in the United States of America

First Printing: December 5, 2020

Dedicated to my sweet daughters. Being stuck in the house with you two during the quarantine has been a blessing.

Redamancy (n.)

“The act of loving in return. Redamancy is distinguished from most of the other words about love in that it is one of the few that specifies reciprocity.”

Prologue

Xavier

With each stride away from the packhouse, from my position as Beta, and from my friends and family, my mind became clear, more resolute, as if the growing physical distance between us had become an emotional chasm.

I’d wondered if I had a soul left or if it died with Olivia. It’d been two years since my soulmate was murdered in front of me, and no amount of coping could heal my heart.

My childhood friend, Sophia, called weekly to check in on me after leaving the pack to be with her mate, but it didn’t fucking help. My current Alpha, about to be former once I went rogue, Riley, tried her best to accommodate me and keep me busy, but she didn’t understand. Our pack coroner, Caroline, had lost her mate as well. She’d become a great friend, someone who understood the soul-ripping pain of losing one’s soulmate—but even that wasn’t enough.

I wanted revenge on fucking Lockhart. The bastard had his sister killed, my mate, killed for the hell of it. He deserved to rot in hell, and I’d be the smug bastard to send him there.

As I stepped over Maxwell Pack’s boundary, a sharp memory penetrated my mind as the bond that tied me to the pack snapped, fueling my need for revenge.

“I love you, Xavier. Please remember that! This isn’t your fault. It’s nobody’s fault.” Olivia’s swollen green eyes locked with mine as she sobbed.

Determination rippled through me. “I love you, Liv. I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you.” I shifted into my wolf, launching myself toward the warrior from Lockhart Pack.

I was mere centimeters away when the sonofabitch slid the silver knife across her throat. Blood poured from the gaping wound. Her eyes widened as she clutched her throat and gurgled on her blood. She was gone before her body hit the ground.

My wolf caught the murderer’s neck in my powerful jaws, and I tore it open, decapitating him with one bite. My claws dug deep into his chest, splattering his blood in my fur as I shredded him to pieces. I bit chunks of flesh off his face and spit them out, the thick metallic liquid coating my mouth.

“Xavier, he’s dead,” someone told me, but it didn’t register as I continued mutilating the warrior’s body.

My primal instincts had taken over, and the thirst for revenge began.

I gripped my head tight, shaking away the memory. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to protect you, Liv.”

I shifted; my bones popped and scraped against each other as they manipulated into the skeleton of a wolf, and thick hair sprouted through my skin. My canines shredded my gums, and my snout extended.

I shook out my brown fur and stretched my wolf body. Shifting used to hurt like a motherfucker, but not anymore.

Hell, some days, I’d shift for the hell of it—just to feel something—but I’d become numb to the pain.

I took off at a sprint, darting through the thick, overgrown forest that reeked of muck and an overwhelming, nauseating scent of peonies.

I was a rogue now, and not belonging to a pack drew a massive target on my back. But it didn’t fucking matter.

I only cared about one thing, and that was killing Alpha Lockhart—the bastard that put an order out to destroy my mate, his flesh and blood.

ONE

Harlow

Isolation wasn’t so bad. I’d thrived on my own for seven years, ever since Hollows Coven banished me. I didn’t miss interacting with humans, witches, or any other supernatural beings. They couldn’t be trusted, so why even bother? I had the forest animals, spirits, and elements that lived in harmony around me.

Deep down, I knew I belonged in the core of the forest, immersed in its ancient heart. I’d put down roots where I felt the magic buzzing the loudest, embedded in the thick of the woods.

Trees surrounded the cottage I’d built, and I could feel the protection of the tree spirits within the walls. I’d done a binding and a protection spell to make it untraceable to anyone who’d approached it, and that’s how I preferred it.

There was little to no chance someone would stumble upon this area. It was too remote, untraveled. Besides, nobody had managed to find this place in all the time I’d lived here—but it didn’t hurt to be careful.

The forest hummed with life all around me. I twirled about, gazing up at the dense treetops, listening to the singing of the birds. Some sunlight broke through the cracks of the limbs, lighting up the dirt path ahead of me.

Outgrown roots, wildflowers, and fallen leaves crunched beneath my bare feet as I glided down the familiar path. Magic flowed freely through the air and radiated from my heart. I never

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