The Wolf’s Kidnapped Mate: Black Ops

Wolf Shifter Romance (Beaufort Creek

Shifters Book 11) Layla Silver
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 THE WOLF’S KIDNAPPED MATE

Black Ops Wolf Shifter Romance

Beaufort Creek Shifters Book 11

Layla Silver

Copyright © 2023 by Layla Silver.

All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of the book only. No part of this book may be reproduced,
scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form, including recording, without prior written permission from the
publisher, except for brief quotations in a book review.
 Contents
Chapter 1 - Fred
Chapter 2 - Kylie
Chapter 3 - Fred
Chapter 4 - Kylie
Chapter 5 - Fred
Chapter 6 - Kylie
Chapter 7 - Fred
Chapter 8 - Kylie
Chapter 9 - Fred
Chapter 10 - Kylie
Chapter 11 - Fred
Chapter 12 - Kylie
Chapter 13 - Fred
Chapter 14 - Kylie
Chapter 15 - Fred
Chapter 16 - Kylie
Chapter 17 - Fred
Chapter 18 - Kylie
Chapter 19 - Fred
Chapter 20 - Kylie
Chapter 21 - Fred
Chapter 22 - Kylie
Chapter 23 - Fred
Chapter 24 - Kylie
About the Author
Books by Layla Silver
 Chapter 1 - Fred
I wasn’t sure it was such a good idea.
That wasn’t exactly my mission, to be thinking of whether or not the plan was a good idea, but it was something I kept
thinking about as I set my burner phone on the simple wooden table. Plants circled the kitchen around me, from verdant jade
flooding the window to several pots of cactus and about a dozen miniature pots of succulents crowding the counter.
This place was my sanctuary, my home. It needed to feel like a home if I was going to be here for a while. While Blake
had made it abundantly clear I could stay in the Beaufort Creek pack for as long as I wanted, I got the sense that he was only
doing it because of Virginia.
She’d been trouble from the start, that girl. But I’d done everything in my power to ensure her protection as far as
documents and relocation could carry her. Now she had a home within a pack—and a mate. She’d extended kindness to me by
getting me into this pack too. I packed my old life up into boxes and stored them in the small crawl space above my new cabin.
But without my old office, I felt strange, staring off at the normal-looking items lined up on the compact table near the
entryway of the kitchen. Notepads and pens sat next to a set of keys and a few smaller potted plants, mostly more succulents.
Beyond the doorway was a small living room, and then the adjacent rooms were my bedroom and the bathroom. Small but tidy.
And weird.
Well, weird didn’t even begin to cover it. Everything in here was totally foreign to me. Tangled networks of ivy grew
along the window to my left where I could see the greenhouse that was slowly coming to life. Other than the cloudy pane of the
windows, everything was clean. Cleaning was a byproduct of boredom—and I was going for the gold with boredom at this
point.
“Sharp eyes, soldier,” came a husky voice from the burner phone. “Look alive.”
“But play dead.”
Laughter followed. Then dead silence.
I sighed while leaning toward the old Nokia. Funny how old things still worked just fine even when they’d gone
obsolete by all common standards. “Liam, are you sure this is a good idea?”
“What can go wrong? Tell me.”
“Our cover could get blown, for starts.” I pulled a few white strands of hair from my tattered army jacket. “Your cover
could get blown. I mean, you’re supposed to be hiding. Not completing missions for a different firm.”
He chuckled. “Danger loves me.”
“Or you have a problem.”
“You’ll be having a problem soon if you don’t complete the rest of the mission. Remember? We agreed.”
Yes, that was all very true. We had agreed—about three-ish weeks ago, I’d decided to change my stars for the sake of a
close friend. He was an old friend, and if memory served proper, he was a protective and caring friend. His plans didn’t
always make sense in the beginning, but they were typically successful.
“We did agree,” I replied. “And we owe Virginia a huge thanks for getting me into this pack.”
“Not yet, soldier.”
I sighed. “I know. Protect Kylie first. Say thanks later.”
True, it wasn’t the time for such gratitude. This was a top secret mission, and I couldn’t be handing out thank-you cards
to civilians. Though it wasn’t like I was in the black ops anymore. I had technically gone rogue.
Four years had passed since I had marched out of the black ops. It’d been the same amount of time since I’d last worked
with Liam. Until today, not much had drawn us together. Other than the odd Christmas card here or there, the trimmings of a
succulent, or a random postcard, I didn’t keep in touch.
I closed my eyes with a sense of defeat.
Me. I didn’t keep in touch. Liam did plenty to toss out lines of contact. I just hadn’t wanted to touch any of the subjects I
knew would come up if we were to actually talk on the phone. Like we were doing now.
Except we weren’t talking. I was just staring at the ancient brick of technology like it was a new type of bomb I was
tasked to deconstruct. Time wasn’t ticking on any clocks—I despised analog clocks, personally—and nobody’s life was on the
line. Just me. Just my resolve wavering the longer I stared.
 “How is she doing?”
I drew air through my nostrils like I’d been holding my breath. Heck, I probably had been this entire time. “Your sister
is good as far as I can tell.”
“Have you spoken to her?”
“Not yet. She’s been, uh…” I scratched behind my ear. “She’s been working at the community center as an event
coordinator or whatever.”
He huffed, amused. “She’s always been the better of us at organizing.”
“Wasn’t she the one who came up with Operation Paragon?”
“Yeah, she was the brains. I was the muscle.” He coughed, cleared his throat, made another hacking sound that made it
sound like he might have been sick. He spat whatever he’d collected in his mouth into what I hoped was a sink or a toilet.
“Should have never taken her to fucking Tehran of all places.”
My shoulders dipped together as I bowed my head. “Yeah, well, we can’t change the past can we?” I drummed the table
with the fingers of my left hand. “Anyway, she’s doing alright, Liam. You can rest assured on that.”
“You have to protect her at all costs.”
“All costs?” I lifted my head. “So like, what, marry her?”
He cackled, making the speaker crackle with static. “Not in a million years, my dude. Don’t even dream of it.”
I shrugged. “Well, you said all costs.”
“Look alive. But don’t you dare marry my sister.”
Those were clear orders. I would respect them within an inch of my life. And considering I didn’t have any romantic
plans for Kylie, it was an easy task. “10-4.”
“You should have been the one to come to Tehran. I can’t believe Douglas sacked you.”
“Yeah, well…” Distance grew between us. More than what already existed. And then I felt the urge to run into the
greenhouse. “I should get going.”
“Not before we review the plan.”
One massive sigh later, I was leaning back in my chair. “Alright, hit me.”
“I will if you get my sister hurt.”
“Noted. Now, I already got into the pack through Virginia. Blake and Troy know what’s up. I’ve got to talk to their
security dude. Some guy named Jermaine.”
Liam whistled. “That guy’s a grumpy-ass bear. Be warned.”
“Twice noted.”
“You’ll go over the basics with Jermaine. I’m sorry I can’t be there. I’m sorry you have to deal with my mess.”
I shook my head. “How long were we the grim dogs?”
“I don’t know. Ten years?”
“And in that time, when have you ever apologized?”
My buddy seemed stunned by the question. Or he was trying to quietly scrape more crap out of his lungs without me
being privy to it. Who knew which it would be with him? His reactions weren’t exactly predictable, and it wasn’t like I could
see his face right now.
Sometimes, technology could just be a huge pain in the ass.
“Don’t get used to it,” Liam warned in a flat tone. “I need to apologize to Kylie too. But one thing at a time. I’m
wrapped up in this shit in Canada and—”
Static crowded the line. I took the phone off its barely functional speaker setting and held the brick to my ear. “And you
need someone on the inside. I get it.”
“Bernadetti was spotted in the areas surrounding Beaufort. I don’t have exact coordinates yet. I need you two to draw
him out into the light if he happens to go into town. Karla and Cora should already be en route. They’ll stay nearby.”
“Where nearby?”
He coughed. “Irrelevant. You’ll move Kylie into position, yank Bernadetti out of his little hidey-hole, and the Blonde
Dalmatians will take him into custody.”
I snorted. “Blonde Dalmatians.”
“Listen, they picked their code names. Not me.”
“And what’s your name in all this mess?”
He sighed. “I don’t exist right now, remember?”
Neither should I.
Pops should be yelling down the hallway that I have another customer waiting for me at the counter. Oscar should be
shedding on the stained carpet of my office. Popcorn paint should be raining from the ceiling where I usually hid in the loft to
get what was passable for sleep in those days.
I didn’t exist then. I shouldn’t exist now.
But I did.
I was dragging things out. But who wouldn’t in this situation? “I’m not sure about this.”
“You don’t have to be sure about the plan, Fred. You just have to protect my sister.”
“What if she resists?”
He snickered. “She shouldn’t. Everything should go according to plan.”
“You haven’t told me everything, have you?”
“Don’t sound so unsure.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. But if things go wrong, I’m coming for your ass first. Got it?”
“Sure, keep it real, dude.”
“I gotta bounce. Meeting in ten.”
Something about shoving my finger into the red button to end the call felt viscerally satisfying. We just didn’t get the
same feelings these days with our technology. Even my computer was one of those archaic boxes that weighed about a hundred
tons just to haul from the damn bar to this tiny home behind the greenhouse. I used it because it was reliable, I could swap out
the parts easily, and I didn’t have to worry about being tracked by any of that new touch-screen stuff.
I took a breath, inhaling the scent of a freshly built home. Blake wasn’t kidding about their builders being quick. Though
the space was compact, it was nice, and it smelled of fresh wood still. They’d built it faster than I could blink, and I was
forever grateful even if I was suspicious of the circumstances. Uncertainty like this was not something I would typically carry
into the field.
But this wasn’t a typical plan, nor was it a standard mission. This was a personal task handed to me by a close friend. It
wasn’t about me. It was about Kylie, who I had watched grow from an awkward teenager into a badass close-combat tactical
soldier. I remembered the phone call that had changed it all back when we were too young to understand what we were doing,
back when the vampire-wolf wars killed her parents and sent her into fight mode.
Every shifter black ops story started off with some kind of tragedy. Hers wasn’t much different. And I wouldn’t try to
pretend that there was a gaping crater of difference between Kylie and me. Because my motivations were similar—no parents,
fight mode. I knew that the smile she wore hid horrors unseen by most people—by most creatures—because I did the same
damn thing.
I knew what kept her up at night. That was why Liam wanted me to protect her. I knew her, and I knew exactly how to
make sure she didn’t do anything reckless.
An alarm beeped from the other room. I launched into the living room and smacked the digital clock, resetting the time
on it to go off again this evening. That would mark my next task—making sure that Kylie walked home safely from her job.

***
“You’re late.”
I grumbled something under my breath while scooting past Jermaine. Liam wasn’t lying. The bear had a grumpy stick
shoved up his backside and it seemed to rigidly twist him around. Blake and Troy sat on opposite sides of the table, putting me
squarely in the middle. I felt like I was about to be interrogated.
 My salute made Jermaine grunt. He popped open a thick folder and dropped it on the table. “Since our last meeting,
I’ve collected intel on every footprint that your Ray Bernadetti character has left in the world.”
I studied the folder. “More than I thought.”
“Much more.” He flipped through a few pages and slid a couple of photographs toward me.
Bernadetti looked just the same, except his hair was thinning on top. Other than that, he had beady black eyes, gray
streaks in his black hair, and sun-spotted skin. He was shoving a bagel into his giant mouth in the top photograph.
“Any leads on his exact location?” I slid the picture aside to reveal one grainy-looking security screenshot of
Bernadetti at an order counter. “Bakeries, huh?”
“He likes to eat.”
I focused on Jermaine. “You’ve got eyes everywhere.”
“I have connections. So does your buddy.”
“I’m well aware.”
Jermaine squinted at me while pointing to the folder. “There’s more for you to review. The task is quite simple. Ensnare
the target in a trap with minimal damage.”
“We’ve got the trap part covered.”
“And I’ll handle the security. But I need you to be cautious here, Fred. Everyone is on edge in this pack because of—”
His head snapped in the direction of his alpha.
Blake calmly waved. “It’s alright. My mother is at peace now. We don’t have to tiptoe around the subject of that war
anymore, Jermaine.”
“I know. It’s just…”
The energy in the room shifted. Metaphorical strings made of fond energy formed between the alpha and his dearly
beloved head of security. I could tell they had plenty of history together.
I could relate to that heavily. “It’s alright. Liam briefed me on the attack on your pack by the Gilberts and Myrtles.”
“So, you understand the gravity of this situation,” Jermaine said sharply. “I’m not taking any chances. I want reports on
everything you do.”
“You’ll have it. No arguments.”
That response eased the bear shifter a bit. He nodded and tapped the folder. “This is top secret for our pack. Nobody
but the people in this room and Liam Mullen have any idea what’s going on.”
Troy frowned while his brows dipped together. “Kylie doesn’t know?”
Blake took a breath and then nodded. “We think it’s best she’s not aware of what’s going on, so her cover isn’t blown.”
Before Troy could argue, Blake added, “And that means her conditions are still the same—she’s not permitted to leave the
pack. She knows that. I’ve already double-checked with her.”
“Won’t it be suspicious that you checked?” I asked.
“No, she’s grown tired of me checking in,” Blake replied with a laugh. “Jermaine usually keeps tabs on her as well. It
wasn’t out of character at all.”
I stared at the folder, absorbing the life of a man who I used to trust. Who Liam used to trust. Who Kylie used to trust.
That man had nearly been the end of everything. And now, I would make sure that things truly ended with him. “Is there
anything else? I need to catch a nap before I tail after Kylie tonight.”
“Oh, there is one more thing, Fred,” Blake said.
Troy leaned forward. “We’ve discussed it at length and believe it’s best you participate in all of our usual customs.”
“Yeah, sure,” I said with a shrug. “I won’t argue with that.”
Blake smiled brightly. “Great, then you won’t mind us announcing you as part of the next mate pairing.”
I choked on air. “The next what?”
“Mates are commonly paired in our packs,” Troy explained confidently. “Blake plans on releasing the next set of pairs
tomorrow during our meeting. He wants you to be one of them.”
I didn’t usually experience panic like this. But I wasn’t one to be thrown into situations like this. Not without being
paid. “I don’t know about all that.”
“You’re one of us now,” Blake said pointedly. “That means you act like one of us. It’s the best way to protect your
mission.”
I glared at the table—because something needed to sustain my wrath, and I wasn’t about to turn it toward any of the
three shifters in this room. I’d reserve most of it for when we caught up to Bernadetti. He deserved it more than anybody.
And heck, it wasn’t like I had to go through with the whole mating ritual thing I’d seen these guys do. No, this was just
part of my cover. I would do my time, pay my dues, and then bounce when everything was said and done.
It wouldn’t take long at all. Three weeks, tops. By then, any sane woman would want me out of her life. I could get back
to being on my own.
Three weeks.
After a deep breath, I nodded. “Alright, fine. But I reserve the right to complain the whole time.”
Everybody laughed.
 Chapter 2 - Kylie
Athleticism was next to godliness if my bestie was to be believed. And right this second, I believed that staying fit was
the only way to provide any kind of divine intervention in my boring life. Maybe I could have biked to the community center,
but why would I do that when I could jog instead?
My legs needed a change from their usual routine. They were used to pedaling rather than pressing heel-to-toe into the
tan dirt of the stony path.
Gray and slate-black pebbles decorated the sides of the path, freshly laid. Tall trees sprang out of the dirt near the
rocks, along with seasonal bushes that displayed some kind of angelic white flower that bloomed beautifully by the time the sun
was high in the sky. I didn’t know a thing about them other than the fact that they smelled nice in the evening when I walked
home. Lanterns hung from iron hooks over the path, also new additions.
Blake and Troy had made plenty of adjustments in the past few weeks that had improved the liveliness of our pack land.
Before all this, before the edits and the languid nights I spent rolling in my bed, I had been overseas—in France, riding
the train to other cities, other countries. Because that was the price I paid for being part of the grim underground of my
previous job. Grim dogs. That was what my brother called us.
Maybe I had sacrificed too many thought molecules to those evenings. I barely had anything left.
I panted as I slowed my pace, trotting in place to keep my legs from locking up. Damn things loved doing that
nowadays. I didn’t have much activity keeping me from a sedentary lifestyle, so I had taken it upon myself to yank Faye from
her cozy apartment early in the mornings for some ocean swim time.
Luckily, Faye wanted to be as active as I did. She never complained, and she always invited me to various events in the
area. But it wasn’t like I could attend much with the rules Blake had set down for me. Troy had agreed to them too when he
took up his co-alpha position. Other than those two men and the security team, nobody knew that I couldn’t leave the confines
of this pack’s land.
And it was so aggravating.
I just wanted to do normal things with normal shifters. The life I had left behind—along with my brother, I mentally
recognized—was part of my nightmares now. Evenings that should have been blissful occasionally turned into relived
experiences. I hated thinking about those memories, and I hated that I couldn’t talk to my best friend about them.
She had no idea who I had been in the past, and she would probably never know. With Liam out in the field again, I
couldn’t say a word. I lived a life of secrecy, one that didn’t even involve me doing anything secretive. There weren’t any
missions for me these days. There wasn’t intel for me to review or operations to plan.
Liam had dropped me off with this pack a year ago. That was too long to go without a mission, or much of anything.
Sometimes, the old team sent some cards—Banks loved those damn Christmas wreaths, Harp was into classic cards,
and my brother usually scrawled something on a random postcard—and the people we rescued occasionally sent a line too.
Normally, those were kept under code names, the most recent being Karla and Cora’s ever clever “Blonde Dalmatian” bit. I
thought they’d sent a pair of Dalmatian photos at one point, maybe three months ago.
Memory didn’t serve me well. And honestly, it wasn’t really something I liked thinking about. Because thinking of the
old team and those soldiers we had rescued made me think about Bernadetti. And I hated to think of that man.
His glassy eyes and sharp demeanor had always made me uncomfortable. I’d often wondered what it was about him
that put me on edge, and then I got my answer when our convoy was attacked.
Tyson and Harvey were in the frontmost vehicle. I was with my brother, the Blonde Dalmatians were behind us, and the
others were spread out. Bombs exploded in my memory, not as loud anymore. But certainly still impressionable.
I stopped jogging next to a bench and plopped onto it, stretching my legs out to keep my muscles from locking up. I bent
forward and stared at the ground between my sneakers, watching sweat darken the soil drop after drop. Bomb after bomb.
A team of four black ops soldiers rescued a team of five black ops soldiers. We were lucky to get out of there alive, but
luck didn’t follow us to the States. Bernadetti spilled every single detail about our missions to our enemies in Tehran, then he
disappeared right off the map, leaving our lives stranded in wild directions.
Like the way my brother had left me here in the south under house arrest.
Karla and Cora have it better, I thought. They have a cute little cottage up in Canada where they grow produce and
sell it at the farmer’s market every weekend.
 I sighed.
Why couldn’t I have a life like that? Those two had found love in each other, while I was stranded here in the middle of
a ranch with two alphas, a small apartment, and a dead-end job.
Oh, and there was always Fred. It wasn’t like he’d said a word to me since he got here, but he was here. He was
around. I saw him sometimes.
My shoulders ached when I sat up. I saw the recreation center up ahead and noticed the growing crowd of people
dwindling through the doors. Right—there was a meeting happening soon. That was the whole point of my jog. When Faye
joined the masses, I launched from the bench and sped in her direction. I didn’t stop until I looped my arm with hers.
She beamed. “I was wondering where you were.” She wiped the sweat from her forehead and sighed contentedly. “I
see we both had the same idea.”
“We did. Where did you go?”
“Around the cornfields to the other side. There’s a little nature trail leading to the beach.”
I nodded. “That’s a good one.”
“I was thinking about doing a swim competition.”
My interest piqued as we wandered into the cafeteria. A low thrum of conversation circulated us as we searched for a
good table. These meetings didn’t usually last long, but I wanted a good spot where I would feel comfortable. Fred was
lingering near the stage at the other end of the room. Our eyes locked.
He looked away. I tried to pretend it didn’t hurt, that after all these years of knowing him I wasn’t offended by him
abruptly joining our pack and then avoiding the crap out of me. No, there were more important things to be offended about.
Like the fact that the snack table was already half empty. I grabbed a plate while keeping my arm looped with Faye’s.
“Did someone really already go through the Oreos?”
“Blame the kids,” Faye joked. “I mean, can you blame them? Oreos are good.”
“Get me some of those chocolate cookies before they disappear.”
She grabbed two and placed them on the plate. “How about some cucumber sandwiches?”
“Nah, I want more carbs—grab some bagels, please?”
“You got it.”
We walked through the line connected at the arms, Faye collecting food while I held the plate. I nudged her softly. “Tell
me about the competitive swimming thing.”
“You ever heard of cross-channel swimming?”
“Yeah, sure. People swim the English Channel all the time.”
She grinned. “That’s what I want to do.”
My heart sank. That was good for her, and I was glad for her. Yet I felt the disappointment gnawing at me like the
hunger pangs in my tummy. I put on a smile and tugged her toward an empty table near the back of the cafeteria. It was the
farthest away from the stage—and away from that awkward tension with Fred.
With the plate between us, I munched happily on a bagel, waiting patiently as the rest of the pack got sorted in their
seats. After a few minutes, a hush fell over the room, and then our alphas walked onto the stage.
Blake held up a microphone. “Thank you all for joining us this afternoon. We’ve got a lot of announcements to cover
today.”
Murmurs traveled through the crowd, mostly curiosities about the next mate pairings.
I rolled my eyes. It was such a weird tradition for such a forward-thinking alpha to keep around. Yet the man insisted he
could hear people’s hearts calling for each other. His co-alpha made the same claim. The guys were already doing me a favor,
so I didn’t want to judge them for their customs.
True love was different than mating, in my honest opinion, but I wasn’t about to say that out loud. So many people here
were convinced that mates were a thing.
Tell that to my ex when he left me at the altar.
Yeah, nope. I wasn’t about to go there today. A few more bites of bagel satisfied my craving for carbs, and partially put
my memories to rest. It was just one of those days, wasn’t it? Nothing a nice swim at the beach wouldn’t fix.
 “You’re all eager for more pairings, I hear,” Blake joked, sending a wave of chuckles through the crowd. “I have more
of them here.” He held up a card.
I snorted. Here we go.
Blake wore his dashing bad-boy grin. I couldn’t deny our Beaufort Creek alpha still had that dangerous charm about
him. While his hunky appearance was attractive, I preferred slimmer muscular builds. It wasn’t like I was counting on finding
that myself any time soon, but it was fine for me to dream.
Especially when those dreams took the place of my usual nightmares.
I nibbled on a chocolate chip cookie.
“Parker Owens and Clay Barker,” Blake announced. “Congrats on being mates.” Some applause broke out while Parker
and Clay stood up to embrace.
Wow, it wasn’t like nobody had seen that coming. Those two had been spotted holding hands every chance they got
while walking around the pack.
Was our alpha losing his razor edge on surprise pairings?
Blake gestured with the card to a table up at the front. “The next pairing is Dahlia Matthis and Sean Combs.”
More applause. This wasn’t that interesting. And I felt like the people around us were also showing growing signs of
disappointment. Mate pairings lately had been rather amiable. Where was the drama? The passion? The rumor mill?
“And the last,” Blake announced, cutting the sound of clapping down to a trickle, “is Fred Duke and Kylie Mullen.”
I dropped my cookie.
There was no way my alpha had just slapped my name into a list of mate pairings like it truly was no big deal. He
slammed me right next to Fred, probably knowing good and well what our history was like with each other. All was friendly in
that world—and nothing more than that.
I lifted my head, noticing the way the crowd turned its attention to me. The heat in my cheeks made me feel like I was
about to start sweating bullets. And maybe I was. Yet no matter how much Faye was patting my shoulder, I couldn’t seem to
break out of the weird funk I was in.
Fred looked right at me. His green eyes sparkled with recognition as a lock of dusty white hair fell to his cheek. He
squinted, that look he had when he was trying to figure something out, and then he offered the smallest of smiles. That smooth
pale skin made me want to reach out for him, like he was inviting my touch.
Oh, that was a relief. Liam would probably throw a fit or something, but of all the people I could have been lumped
with, Fred was probably the best. He was highly intelligent, quiet, clean, and he completed every mission with a zest for life.
There couldn’t have been a more perfect pairing.
Alright, I can get used to this, I thought as I stood tentatively.
Some applause reached my ears. Maybe it was a lot. I didn’t know, because I was too focused on Fred, on his absinthe
eyes drawing me toward him.
I bit my lower lip. A tingling sensation started up in my core. And then that grew into a wave of goosebumps. Yeah, I
could definitely get used to this.
Truthfully, mating still seemed like a silly thing to me. But if I had to do it with anyone, then Fred was my first choice. It
had never occurred to me, and maybe that was why Blake had chosen Fred. I was confined to this pack—maybe being with
Fred would finally get me outside the perimeter.
With a smile, I started walking toward him.
And then his eyes flickered away, and the smile faded. “Alpha, I’m sorry, I can’t do this.”
Fred walked out of the room, leaving me with my breath caught in my throat and my heart thundering in my chest. He
left me there, and the tiny sliver of hope that I might leave my prison left with him. It was like I was being left at the altar all
over again.
At least this time, it was well before the wedding.
 Chapter 3 - Fred
This was definitely a bad idea.
I wasn’t sure what the alphas were thinking, but they must have been up to something sinister when they decided I
should be paired with Kylie. My mission required a certain level of care and discreetness. If I mated with her, then I wouldn’t
just be violating the mission—I would be disrespecting the very clear request of a close friend:
Look alive. But don’t you dare marry my sister.
Was Liam in on this? No, that was impossible. He would have said something. He would have prepared me for it, so I
didn’t offend his sweet sister’s sensibilities. The look on her face when I walked out of there told me everything I needed to
know about her.
Like how she could get hurt over the rejection of a guy she didn’t even care about.
I already knew a lot of things about Kylie—like how she sang in the shower and cycled every morning—and I knew she
didn’t have an ounce of interest in romance. Unless she texted those secrets to Faye. It made me double-check my mental log as
I walked rigidly toward the other side of the path, the part hidden by a line of trees.
Every evening was a lot like this. I napped until my alarm went off, and then I went to watch Kylie walk home. I kept a
good distance, letting my sharpened hearing tell me if anything about her or her situation had changed. It usually hadn’t. She
was often with Faye when she walked home. Today wouldn’t be much different, since the two had been sitting with each other
when Blake decided to make that truly magnificent announcement to the whole damn pack.
There was no way that Liam had signed off on this. The guy wasn’t possessive of his sister or anything, but he was
definitely protective of her. When Bernadetti showed interest some years ago, Liam had drawn a very sharp and bold line in
the sand. This couldn’t possibly be any different. And it wasn’t part of the plan.
I whipped out my burner phone. Sometimes, I wished I could use one of those fancy smartphones everyone used, but it
was a huge security risk. No social media. Not even a damn email outside of the encrypted one I used that was based in
Switzerland. Even that one didn’t have a speck of information on it that could be traced back to me.
Right now, none of that really mattered. I just wanted to get a hold of Liam and get his opinion on this wildly reckless
idea from the alphas I was supposed to trust with my life. And my best friend’s sister’s life.
Was this their idea of fulfilling my mission?
“That was just plain rude,” claimed a high-pitched voice.
I halted behind a huge magnolia. The girls were walking up pretty early by my watch—but we’d just walked out of a
meeting. Or I’d just walked out of a meeting. Everyone else had probably filed out a few minutes after me, seeing as the drama
hadn’t produced much to talk about.
Blake had probably saved the best for last, thinking it was a good idea.
Nope. It was a terrible idea. Hadn’t I been saying that all damn day? I didn’t understand why nobody wanted to listen to
me. Kylie wasn’t my mate. Even if I wanted her to be my mate—which I definitely didn’t—she wouldn’t ever see me as
attractive or appealing. She’d never showed signs of it growing up. Anyway, Liam would have stamped that out quicker than a
flamenco dancer trying to stomp out a fire.
Their footsteps grew louder on the dirt path. One of them kicked a rock that skittered off into a flower bed. I kept my
eyes on the prize, although of course Kylie was much more than a prize, with her aggravatingly positive outlook and sunny
disposition. She was practically a galaxy of giant suns.
Her tan was like an autumn’s brown, and her reddish-auburn hair rested straight against either side of her face, stopping
at her chin. Every time she turned her head, the bob moved with her. Short bangs framed her face, seeming to enhance the hazel-
brown of her eyes. Trim brows appeared to be penciled in a darker shade than her hair, and her face was contoured expertly
with makeup.
How she managed not to break a sweat through her foundation this late in the day, after jogging, was amazing to me.
Kylie was talented like that. She could sport a hot smoky eye and still manage to spot the enemy through her sniper scope.
Nothing really stopped her from getting her job done, and she looked good while doing it.
Not like I was checking her out or anything.
And who in the world was so upbeat all the time? Especially given her experience. I didn’t understand it. But then
again, there were cases of people who left the black ops and turned into the most Zen people on the planet. Some of them even
went on to take vows of silence for world peace.
 That was all horseshit to me. I didn’t think silence did much of anything. Certainly not for the injustices of the world.
And those were just too many to count at this point. Sure, we all did things to cope—I had my greenhouse and my sweet
evergreen, Oscar—but I didn’t want my terrifying nightmares to turn me into some snake-oil peddling shmuck.
“He’s just…he’s so…” Kylie talked about me for what might have been the first time since I’d arrived. “I don’t know.”
Faye rubbed her friend’s shoulder. “Do you know him at all?”
“Not really.”
Even more lies. Great. I rubbed the back of my neck while avoiding a bumblebee. After sliding my burner phone into
my back pocket, I scooted beside the bushes and smaller trees, keeping my distance while keeping the two women within sight.
Look alive.
But play dead.
Faye beamed. “Then it’s not much of a loss, right?”
Ugh, why did they have to be this way? If the rejection hurt, then they should say that. I honestly had expected Kylie to
walk out of there in tears considering how soft she truly can be on the inside. There wasn’t enough Krav Maga in the world to
hide the hurt she harbored in her delicate heart.
You know better, I told myself. You’ve seen what she’s seen.
But how could I know better when all she did was spew those disgusting positive mantras all the time? They weren’t
even mantras. They were cultish phrases that made her seem like a robot. In my head, I didn’t mind the hurt or the fear. I
processed it by feeling it, not ignoring it.
People like Kylie didn’t make sense to me. Good thing we weren’t actually real mates. I’d get tired of that crap real
quick.
“He’s kind of handsome,” Faye added. “Pale, though.”
I snorted and rolled my eyes. Every woman wanted a tall, dark, and handsome guy without knowing whether or not he
could protect her.
Kylie shrugged. “I don’t mind.”
My eyes couldn’t have rolled any harder. Gee, thanks.
Faye tapped her chin. “And the tattoos?”
“Who doesn’t have tattoos these days?”
As much as I despised her attitude, she had a nice way of defending me. Even after I’d rejected her. Maybe she wasn’t
half bad.
Faye wrinkled her nose. “The hair…”
“It’s just white hair, Faye. What do you want? To marry him?”
Faye cackled.
And not one bit of that sound sliced through my heart. Nope. Because I was a steel fortress. And women like them
wouldn’t ever get to me.
Never.
Faye skipped forward a few feet and flipped around, jogging backward to keep her pace with Kylie. “I’m not saying
that. I’m just saying maybe it’s not that big of a deal.”
“Virginia got him a place here. He must be important to her.”
“Then she should mate with him.”
Kylie shook her head. “Virginia already has a mate, remember? Slater.” She sighed. “Fred doesn’t seem bad. He just
seems grumpy.”
Wow, what a vote of confidence. While I didn’t shit rainbows or vomit sunshine, I didn’t think I was that dark. I
retained a realistic view of the world—every bit of its horrifying glory.
“Yeah, he seems kind of…” Faye trailed off while pointing to her right temple. “You know, maybe there’s some screws
loose up there.”
I growled as I shuffled behind a tree and paused for a second. Loose screws? Seriously?
 Kylie stopped and flipped around. “Faye, did you hear something?”
I kept perfectly still behind the trunk, hoping to hell and back I hadn’t blown my cover. Because this looked bad. To
anyone else, I was being a huge creep, not keeping an eye on my best friend’s sister to make sure she didn’t meet a worse fate
than an IED out in the middle of the road.
I was pushing the limits here. But I knew better than to move. So much as a twitch would set her off and I’d be caught
red-handed.
And then I would hear even more statements from Faye about my unworthiness as a mate.
Goes to show what she knows, I thought angrily. I’d make a great mate. If I wanted to be one, I could.
Kylie pursed her lips thoughtfully and then turned back to her friend with a shrug. “Must have been a squirrel or
something.”
“You have some sharp senses.”
“Faye, I’m a wolf.”
Faye giggled. “Uh, duh. We’re both wolves. But I don’t have nearly as much sensitivity as you do. It’s like you were a
spy in another life.”
Close enough.
Kylie chuckled. “I think it’s just from watching my cousins growing up.”
That wasn’t particularly true. Kylie had been at Liam’s side for years after their parents got killed. When Liam said
jump, Kylie did jumping jacks. She did everything with her brother short of going to the bathroom and taking showers. She
didn’t have cousins growing up—none of us did.
She was probably talking about the black ops.
“Did you have a big family?” Faye asked.
Kylie nodded. “Yeah, roots everywhere.”
Considering we’d been stationed in many places, that had a hint of truth. Our missions were relatively small, but we
could end up camping with up to fifteen additional soldiers at a time.
That was back when I was doing it, anyway. I wasn’t sure about the four years following my forced retirement. While
that irritating meeting with my previous boss haunted my mind, I kept a close eye on the woman who had been announced as my
mate.
I truly hoped it was just a ruse put up by the alpha, because Kylie and me together was just plain bad news.
“My brother is around, north,” Kylie continued. “I don’t hear from him much.”
Unfortunately, that remained mostly factual. Liam didn’t like putting those he loved in danger, so he kept
correspondence to a minimum. Usually, something coded came through the mail on a postcard, or there would be an encrypted
email that needed an entire team of cryptologists to decipher.
And it always turned out to say something like, Hey, what’s up. Miss you. Alright, take care.
Ass, I thought. You could be nicer to your sister, you know.
As soon as the girls got to the end of the rocky path, I scooted on to the next tree, trying to stay as casual as I could just
in case people were watching. Nobody was lingering around from the meeting, but I couldn’t be too sure. If it came down to it,
I could just use Jermaine as an excuse.
Kylie paused and clicked the heels of her sneakers together. “Well, at least this means I get a new path.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, I don’t have to worry about Fred. He doesn’t mean anything to me.”
Yet something about the tone of her voice told me that was partway a lie. Being in the black ops for so long had helped
me learn the dozens of ways people could withhold the truth, and all the signs that signal just that. By Kylie’s rigid stance and
stiff upper back, I could tell she wasn’t being entirely honest with her friend.
Then again, Faye had no clue about Kylie’s past. All their walks were void of any black ops information, which was
for the best, and for the safety of everyone in the pack. Besides the alphas, Jermaine, and myself, nobody knew Kylie had been
in the black ops at one point. The same applied for me.
Even Virginia didn’t know about my past. She just knew I peddled in some illegal circles around town. That was the
bulk of it.
Faye huffed and waved nonchalantly. “See? No harm done, right?”
There was no way both of them were that bad at lying.
I stared at the back of Kylie’s head, watching the way her hair bent to the breeze. She seemed to be sizing up her friend,
or maybe trying to get a gauge on how much lying she could get away with this time.
Best to keep it simple, love, I thought. Don’t let the lie turn into another lie.
Kylie shrugged. “Right. No harm done. On to the next mate.”
“Since when do you date?” Faye chuckled. “You don’t even leave the pack.”
“Hey, I go places when you aren’t looking.”
Faye strayed off the path, heading toward the woods. “Want to go for a quick swim? I’m feeling grimy after that weird
meeting.”
But Faye didn’t wait for a response. She took off running, giggling like a maniac as Kylie ran after her. Given the
circumstances, I knew I had to keep a close eye on Kylie in case Bernadetti got any ideas about scoping out the supernatural
scene. One whiff of this pack might send him in this direction—or maybe he wouldn’t care.
There was no way to know.
At the end of the day, I had to cover my bases. I walked briskly onto the path and headed in the direction the girls had
taken. As soon as I reached the trees that separated the path from the ocean, I noticed a couple of things resting on the bushes up
ahead. Two shirts, two pairs of pants, and some shoes with the socks stuffed in.
I rubbed the back of my neck. Liam had said to protect her at all costs.
If the cost was to see her a little bit naked, then hell, I’d take one for the team.
 Chapter 4 - Kylie
I never quite understood why I took a job at the community center. Not much about it felt appealing other than the
organizing side of things. While a lot of folks who came through just wanted to plan a birthday or retirement party, I got a
wedding reception every so often. Sometimes, it was the wedding itself.
Since Blake and Troy were going trigger happy on the mate announcements, weddings were booming. We were taking
requests left and right to rent out the recreation center, the barn, or any other patch of land available on the Beaufort Creek side
of things. Less often, somebody asked to have a party on the beach. Those were easy.
But I was getting tired of parties and nuptials. I was getting sour just from staring at the emails on my screen from
various dating websites. Meet your match today! None of the dating services had really appealed to me, but I was curious
about them. I was curious about meeting someone.
Who am I kidding? I can’t even leave the perimeter. These were just fanciful dreams I was having. It wasn’t like I
could initiate a conversation, let alone actually meet somebody. I was fooling myself. I never clicked on the emails to sign up,
but I thought about it. I really thought about it.
I sighed while stepping into the lobby of the community center. This wasn’t really the life I’d pictured when I went into
hiding. I had thought maybe I’d find a nice little spot to tend to a garden and maybe do the farmer’s market thing like Karla and
Cora. They were living a sapphic paradise dream up in Canada.
Technically, I didn’t need the money from the pack. Liam had dropped a huge sum on my apartment. I wasn’t hurting for
cash or anything.
I pushed on the glass door, letting the breeze into the lobby. I’m just bored.
Something about that public rejection the other day felt weird. I didn’t have any feelings for Fred as far as I knew. Not
the slightest tingle in my gut. My chest didn’t heave at the sight of him, and anyway, what was that supposed to mean if I
couldn’t catch my breath around a guy? Allergies. That was what that would mean.
Men made me feel funny, and not in a creepy way. Just funny. Like I didn’t much know what to do with myself.
Sometimes, a guy would waltz into the community center looking to do something extra with his time—volunteer or something.
I usually handled the lists for that kind of thing. Maybe sometimes it would be a cute guy, or even a handsome guy.
But nothing would happen that made it feel extra special. I didn’t feel compelled to text or, heaven forbid, call to
follow up on a number I’d been given. Guys just weren’t my thing. If I wanted to have fun, I could watch the pile of rom-coms
on my watchlist and drink a bottle of wine by myself.
Who could I date that wouldn’t mind me being in hiding? It wasn’t like I could tell anyone. Fred would have been
perfect because he knew everything about me. I wouldn’t have to lie for once. I wouldn’t have to cower in fear or wonder if he
was going to leave as soon as he found out I could kick his ass right after applying the perfect daytime palette to my eyelids.
I just wanted to be a normal woman going overseas for a normal competition with other normal people.
Shifter status aside, it would be nice to get out. I would accept something as simple as a ride into town so long as it got
me some fresh air. I was getting tired of the mates thing. Left and right, up and down, I couldn’t escape the mates business.
Everybody talked about it. Every person in this place lived and breathed for the mating ceremonies.
The breeze rustled my hair as I stood in the open doorway. People were probably talking about me right now. They
were probably gobbling up that nonsensical rejection, that horribly awkward and quiet way that Fred had trudged out of the
room. Everyone had been quiet after that. Shoot, with so many heartbeats in that room, it hadn’t been quiet at all. It’d been
thunderous.
I could still hear it now, my shameful inability to recover marked by the sticky sweat clinging to my upper neck.
After pushing the door wider, I stepped outside. I walked on the main path for a bit, staring at the structure that had been
erected just a few weeks ago. Right when Virginia and Slater got married, Blake had started building a greenhouse. As far as I
knew, it was probably Fred’s doing.
I didn’t see him around much. When I did, he ducked out of the way like he was avoiding me. Did Liam put him up to
that? Pfft, it wasn’t like my brother had told me a shred of anything since I last saw him. Where was he now? Canada?
I bet he’s having fun with the girls without even telling me. My heart sank. FOMO is such a bitch when I can’t go
anywhere. Doesn’t he know that?
Panic swelled in the back of my mind, forcing me to turn sharply toward the greenhouse. No one really went in there. If
Fred was in there right now, he would probably just leave. It was probably the best place for me to have a panic attack if I was
being honest. Fresh vegetation, foreign plants, trees—heck, I could do with a change of sight and smell.
I picked up the pace, jogging until I reached the door. To the right of the door was a posted ad asking for a plant
caretaker. Funny enough, the actual title was plant caretaker, and it made me think of Victorian houses with thick cobwebs and
creaking doors. A caretaker for plants—wouldn’t that be something different? Wouldn’t it be nice?
I launched inside. A calm quiet fell over me as I just stood there, waiting to feel something happen. Something.
Anything.
But nothing came. Not a sound. Not a tweet from a bird outside. Just silence.
In its simplicity, I felt serene. For once, I didn’t have to listen to the drone of gossip or drama around me. I didn’t need
to heed the panic crawling up my spine over a flashback. I wasn’t forced to engage in small talk or avoid the questions about
why I didn’t have a mate, why I never left the community center, or why I turned down invitations to the events in town.
So quiet. Could the rest of my life be like this too? Maybe someday.
Hope returned, the tiniest sliver of it curling to rest somewhere in my mind. It inspired me to move forward, to study the
towering plants and flowers, the unfamiliar stalks of oceanic blue, and the strange shapes of the pink petals—or maybe they
were leaves—of some plants that seemed to be from another dimension.
A lot of the flora here didn’t resemble the outside world. There was so much verdant green, yet also such vibrant
kaleidoscope shades of red and orange, pink and blue, that I wasn’t sure if it was real or if maybe I had fallen asleep at my
desk again.
Maybe I was drooling all over my keyboard. Or maybe this was another place entirely. Finally, a place that didn’t feel
like a prison, more like a wonderful forest. It was then I realized how much I wanted to be the caretaker of this place. Lovely
dreams might sprout from communing with such pretty plants. Shoot, I needed dreams for once. The nightmares were getting to
be too much.
I paused near a plant with large orange bulbs and plump leaves the size of my hands. With a chuckle, I reached out for
the bulb, surprised by the way the bulb parted, looking more like a huge mouth than a collection of petals and leaves.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
I snapped my hand away just in time for the plant to chomp at me. As I reeled back, I ran into a massive palm tree—
only the palms seemed to whisper something that made me stumble away. I covered my head and ran for, well, more cover to
try to get away from whatever was happening in the greenhouse.
Suddenly, the silence broke open like a crater opening in the earth. Great cracks and booms echoed in my ears, sending
me back to Tehran. Back to the car. Back to the explosive device underneath us.
Beep, beep, KABOOM.
I covered my ears, the deafening roar forcing me to curl into a ball. Cover the ears. Cover the head. Protect the head.
My brother’s words came easily to me, recounting the right steps, the right ways to ensure my success on any mission.
Look alive but play dead.
That was his motto. That would protect me until the very end.
A piercing shriek rang through my ears and then a glittering light beckoned me to open my eyes. I blinked a few times,
staring up into the most delicate irises that reminded me of springtime. Odd, considering the face that held the eyes. The rest of
him was pale with freckles of rusty orange.
I sat up, nearly knocking my head into his. “Fred.”
He hissed while cradling his nose. “Need you to dial back on that alertness, soldier.”
I studied the roman numerals tattooed on his fingers. The ones on his right hand had always been there. But the ones on
his left hand—the same hand holding his nose—were new. “Where did you get those?”
He coughed and then revealed the speck of crimson under his nose. “Uh, from just now, genius. You head-butted me.”
“I didn’t even feel the—” I grimaced while bowing toward my knees. Oops, there it went. The pain. I felt it snap right
through my eyes like a botched lobotomy. “Sweet good goddess, that’s awful, wow.”
A disgruntled snort signaled his position—to my right a few feet away from me—and the sound of a door squeaking
lightly told me he was going somewhere. Strange. I hadn’t noticed any other doors in here. But this was a new building, and I
hadn’t ever been in here, and it seemed to be a playground for Fred, so—
“All that Krav Maga and you still manage to be a klutz.”
 I blinked up at him, clearing the spots in my vision. The pain wasn’t as intense, but the lingering effect of slamming my
skull against his had certainly cracked something open between us.
He shook a bag of ice in front of my face. “Hello. Take it. Seriously, Mullen Two. Worse than your damn brother.”
I snatched the bag from him and plopped it against my forehead. Cool relief had me sighing within seconds. “Don’t you
talk about my brother like that.”
“Sends me one Christmas card, one postcard with that stupid pinup on it, and then lumps you into the equation.”
The bag slid down enough for me to peer up at Fred. “What?”
Fred glared at me. I mean, he really gave me this hard stare like he was trying to laser through the bag of ice and get
into my skull. Was he trying to read my mind?
I lowered the bag. “We’re civilians now, aren’t we?”
“Just me.”
“I’m not in an active operation.” I played with the bag. “Nobody wants to give me a mission. I’m in hiding.”
Fred nodded slowly, absently. “Sure. Nobody wants to compromise your position.”
“Correct. Civilian.”
“You’re not a civilian, genius.”
I snarled. “Would you stop calling me that?”
“Would you stop acting like a genius?”
I gestured widely at his collection of…well, I supposed I could just call them plants. “Want to explain this to me?”
“It’s a hobby.”
“When did this happen?”
He shrugged, averting his gaze. “Years ago. Whatever.”
“Four years ago?”
His gaze sharpened but he still didn’t look at me. “Yeah, something like that.”
I thought about the roman numerals on his fingers, and then it hit me. I stood up, wobbled a bit, and then planted my
hands on my hips. “Those tattoos are your exit date.”
“Real quick on that sniper, aren’t you, genius?”
“I swear to the heavens, if you so much as think of that word in conjunction with me again—”
Fred exploded with chuckles. They were shocking sounds coming from such a stern guy, but boy, did they break the ice
of my irritation. I already had ice. I didn’t need more ice from his attitude, so the laugh—so full of life and warmth—really
eased my anxiety.
When he was through laughing, he wiped his face. Goodness, he couldn’t be any stranger than he had been growing up.
I tossed the bag of ice from one hand to the other. “Where have you been?”
“In town.”
“That explains a lot.”
He studied me quietly, no expression blooming on his face despite his eyes dropping to my waist. “Do tell.”
“I can’t leave the pack, or else I would have probably run into you in town, right?”
His demeanor sank. Was that disappointment I saw in his eyes? “Not with the circles I ran in.”
“How do you know that?”
“I don’t know, Kylie. I don’t control fate.”
I tossed the bag at him, hoping to catch him off guard. He didn’t even have to look when he grabbed it out of the air.
And then he tossed it over his shoulder where it landed in a bin underneath a window.
I squinted at the window. “Is that a kitchen?”
“Are you here for a reason?”
“Yeah, I saw the posting.” I tried to skip around his irritated tone. We used to be friends at one point, right? I didn’t
understand what had happened. “The plant caretaker thing. I want to apply.”
 He made a high-pitched squeaky sound that sounded like he was about to start laughing again. Though I expected his
expression to change, nothing but his eyes seemed to hold liveliness. It was like he was dead everywhere else. Dead from the
missions he had carried out.
Dead from being considered dead for so long, no doubt.
“Well?” I snapped.
It wasn’t like me to act like that, especially not with Fred, but he had really gotten under my skin with that performance
at the pack meeting. One rejection was fine by me. But two?
He had to know the details of why I was hiding here. Why was he trying to make it harder for me? “I guess there’s
always tomorrow.”
There—that did it. That got a reaction out of him. I didn’t know how, but saying that really did it.
“There’s only ever today,” he said stiffly. “At least for those of us who aren’t treated like royalty in a damn castle.”
“I didn’t ask to hide here—”
He snorted. “But you sure have lapped it up, haven’t you? I mean, you’ve gotten really fancy with the damn makeup
these days. It looks good.”
I blinked with bewilderment. “Is that supposed to be an insult?”
“It looks damn good because you have all this time on your hands while the rest of us are cleaning up the tiny fires
leftover from Tehran.”
My throat tightened. “Don’t you dare talk to me about that mission. You weren’t even there. You have no idea how
slimy it felt for Bernadetti to—to do the—” I choked.
Now something really must have cracked between us because there was a moment—a split second, I swore—where
Fred started to move toward me with a sudden spark of concern in his eyes. I knew because the green was typically solid, cold.
But right this second, right when I was about to break, the sharp emerald softened to a forest pine.
Softened. Just for a second.
“Kylie, I—” His face hardened, eyes dropping to the ground. “You should leave.”
“Yeah, I should.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. If I hadn’t known Fred personally, I would have thought it was spite or annoyance—
but I knew it was him resisting the urge to smile. This was my brother’s closest friend, the guy who had been with us from the
very start of our black ops journey.
I knew him. And he knew that.
And part of me, regardless of how much I knew it was useless, wanted to stand firm and fight. I took his command as a
challenge, one that I wanted to pick apart until he was firmly annoyed. Then maybe he would understand the frustration of the
other day, how he had lost something that could have been actually kind of nice.
The way he tightened his lips into a firm line flexed the muscles of his neck—and then I noticed how much the corded
muscle of his arms seemed to follow suit. I’d known he was fit, but damn, I hadn’t realized he had such good-looking arms.
And when he fashioned them expectantly over his chest, ouch. I just wanted to know for a second how they might feel wrapping
around my waist.
Another round of blinking helped me clear away the wonder. I squinted up at Fred and shrugged. “Fine.”
As I spun around to walk away, I noticed the aisle behind me had changed drastically. What used to be a path was now
a huge row of those strange, whispering palm trees. After swallowing my fear, I held my head high and weaved my way
through the trunks to get to the other side.
Each of the palms waved gently over my head. One or two of them tickled my shoulder on the way through, soft
syllables reaching my ears that felt encouraging. A couple of the thick trunks parted. Ahead was the door for the greenhouse
leading back to the outside world. For a second, and just a second, I wanted to stay behind. I wanted to explore the wonder of
these trees and plants.
I paused at the mouth of the tree aisle to peer back, noticing the trunks had created the perfect tunnel leading right back
to Fred.
The same Fred who was once glaring daggers into me now appeared more sorrowful than ever—and I couldn’t figure
out why that made me want to run to him.
 I fought the urge, reminding myself that it was him who wanted me to leave. And as I forced my muscles to obey the
command, I felt something. Maybe it was the first time I had ever felt something for somebody of the opposite sex that wasn’t
pure empathy, but it was definitely something, and it had my thighs aching as I jogged away from the greenhouse.
 Chapter 5 - Fred
I was never one to regret things, but sending Kylie out of the greenhouse was bothering me. That girl made trouble look
mild—and it wasn’t entirely her fault that the hands of fate had molded her life this way.
As I’d already told her, I didn’t control fate. I couldn’t loosen the threads or snip a couple of them to make her web
look different. I just couldn’t do that. But what I could do was follow the carefully laid out orders of a close friend to keep her
safe.
I was doing that, right down to the damn syllable. So, why did I feel like I had just made a huge mistake?
Tending to her was second nature. People who worked in the arena of death just did that for each other. And for Kylie,
her flashback wasn’t surprising, just off-putting. It was too random to be inspired by anything in the greenhouse. But that was
kind of the thing about PTSD in these cases.
Much like the enemy in an active warzone, we never knew when it was going to hit. Her slim, delicate fingers had
locked perfectly over the back of her head as she’d bowed to the ground. It hurt to see her make herself small. She was reduced
to a trembling cocoon.
Interestingly, unfolding her limbs hadn’t been difficult. She seemed to know my touch, her warm autumnal flesh pliant
under my rugged hands. Soft skin like that belonged to a woman who wasn’t weighed down by night terrors. She had sighed in
her hazy day-mare, the flash taking her consciousness temporarily and dropping her somewhere in the past.
When I’d rolled her over, I saw the worry knit into her features, the delicately trim brows warped together and dimpled
with concern. Strands of reddish-auburn hair clung to her lips and cheek. I plucked them away so she could breathe better.
And goddess, that breath she took had sounded like the first inhalation after a coma. Her eyelids fluttered. Her irises
swirled with a hazelnut that blended with dots of green. They were like hazel stones containing the various colors of the ocean.
Her full lips kept drawing my attention like I expected her to say something.
But she’d head-butted me instead.
The memory made me rub my nose. Some flecks of dried blood crackled from my left nostril. While I had wiped up the
mess, I hadn’t exactly put ice on my nose or anything. That girl had a hard head, and she wasn’t afraid to use it.
Sighing, I turned to the trees.
Kylie wanted to tend to the plants. She came in here specifically to ask about the job, and honestly, the only reason I
had posted it was because I knew I would be away from the greenhouse during the traveling part of the mission. Even if she did
look like a natural among the greenery, she would be with me during that portion of the mission. It wouldn’t make sense to hire
her.
One of the whispering palms beckoned me to join them. Though no breeze came through here, their massive leaves
floated about like they were being jostled by a generous wind. On more than one occasion, I’d caught them dancing like the
long legs of squid in the ocean, wiggling in an aimless drift that seemed inspired by a phantom breeze.
Around the trees were the usual plants—the biting bulbs that nearly poisoned Kylie, for example, situated right next to
the teal stalks that hosted leaves the sizes of hands. In the dead of night under a full moon, the leaves often looked like hands. It
was fascinating stuff to handle plants from another dimension. It took up most of my spare time.
It was also hard work. Kylie would definitely be up for the job, considering her commitment to difficult tasks. The
whispering palms adored her. They didn’t say much that wasn’t gibberish, but they were definitely whispering up a fierce
storm because of her. That energy had caused them to create that strange forest in which Kylie could have gotten lost.
That was the thing about whispering palms. They were tricky plants with nefarious purposes. Most often, they were
used for hiding things. Given their shifting nature, they were perfect for planting outside a safe house or war room. A few of
them would do just fine seeing as they multiplied easily.
Yet their confusing restructuring hadn’t deterred Kylie at all. And why would it? She had experienced the horrors of the
human world. It must have been refreshing to indulge in the wonders of the supernatural dimension for a change. Yeah, sure, we
got to see people turn into animals or levitate pretty much all the time. That was the usual stuff.
But these trees? This greenhouse? It was one of a kind. Anybody on the supernatural black market would have literally
sent an army to retrieve the leaves of the kaleidoscope plant. Those healing gems were also psychedelic in nature. Blake
allowed me to grow them for both research purposes and bartering tools.
You never knew when you needed an illegal plant to get somebody to do something.
A palm landed on my head. Though it didn’t say much, I got the message just fine.
 Go after her.
Why would I do that when there was nothing I could do to fix the situation? Liam had said to protect his sister at all
costs—and occasionally that cost might be her emotions. Alright, so maybe Liam hadn’t said to hurt his sister’s feelings, but
what was I supposed to do instead? Coddle her?
Go after her.
I shrugged off the whispering palm and got to the greenhouse door, looking back at the five rows of perfectly prim
plants. Every single one of the whispering palms got back into place like they had never moved. Good. I didn’t need them
acting up too. I had bigger vegetation to worry about cutting down.
Like Bernadetti.
My burner phone buzzed in my back pocket. I whipped it out as I pushed out the greenhouse door. A giant ray of sunlight
like a spotlight smacked my vision, making me cringe. Nothing like the sunny disposition of the daytime to get on my nerves.
I jabbed the green button and held the phone to my ear. “What?”
“Well, hello to you too, sunshine.”
I grimaced. “Shut up, Liam. It’s your sister.”
“What’d she do now?” His tone was playfully expectant.
“She’s just being Kylie.”
He chuckled. “Well, let her be Kylie for a little longer. We got coordinates.”
I stopped in my tracks. Could it really be over so quickly? “No shit.”
“Bernadetti was spotted at a gas station just outside of Beaufort. Looks like he’s heading into town.”
“Fuck.”
I picked up my pace again, easily trailing after the scent Kylie had left behind. My nose twitched at every turn. It was
hard to ignore the distinct scent of rose that carried me toward the community center. In the lobby, the scent faded. A few
passing shifters gave me curious eyes with plastic grins. I tried to smile. The shifters briskly walked past me while huddling
closer to each other.
Well, gee, it seemed my smiles weren’t looking too realistic these days. After brushing off the awkward encounters, I
jogged down the hallway to the right, following the faded rose scent. She had been here at one point, but she wasn’t here now.
Maybe she’d run home.
“Fred,” Liam said into my ear. I nearly dropped the damn phone that I’d forgotten I was holding. “Yeah, what?”
“I sent the coordinates to Blake with an update. He knows what’s going down.”
“Time for a ride?”
Liam coughed and hacked. Must have been that cold again. “10-4.”
I nodded curtly, ended the call, and headed back to the lobby. Empty couches, empty desk. Not much happening in the
way of community these ways, eh? This was Kylie’s world, not mine. I didn’t care much about the children’s paintings on the
wall or the mural just behind the welcome desk. It felt weirdly polished in a marigold color with white stripes.
Hell, everything did when I spent most of my time in a cubicle with a crowded loft above it. Space felt strange when
there was so much of it. And in here, with the scrubbed white tiles and tan walls, I felt like I was suffocating. Like the walls
were closing in on me.
Like I was exposed.
I darted out the door and took a left. More of her rose scent in this direction. I could catch Kylie before she ran off for
the beach or took her bike. The thought of shifting into my wolf form wasn’t particularly appealing because then I would have
to shift right in front of her, and then I’d be naked, and then we’d really have a problem on our hands.
My thoughts jumbled up. I’ve never been worried about being naked around her. Why am I worried about it now?
No, we didn’t have to worry about things like that when our special black ops units were made entirely of shifters.
Wolves had mostly been the top choice for a long time, but we had a few bears and lions as well. Shame didn’t come easily
when shifting would save the lives of many. Nope, not a damn bone in my body carried any hint of bashfulness about being
naked to shift.
But the thought of being naked in front of Kylie made my stomach knot.
 At all costs, I reminded myself as my pace quickened. Don’t get shy about shifting in front of her just because she’s
gonna see your junk, man.
The dirt path forked ahead—to the left was the bustling neighborhood and to the right was the path leading to the fields.
I could cut past the cornfields, duck into the woods, and cut Kylie off before she hit the sand.
Easy.
Doubt crept into my mind as I took the path to the right and broke into a sprint. How did I know Kylie was heading for
the shore? Aside from the information I’d gathered about her since I got here, I didn’t know for sure that she was going to the
beach. Technically, she should have gone back to work given the time, but she wasn’t there.
Her scent led me this direction. I hauled gulps of the alluring rose scent into my lungs, the presence of it inspiring a
feral desire to shift into my wolf form right this second. Adrenaline like I hadn’t felt in ages heated my limbs and encouraged
me to move faster.
Yes, finally, the thrill I had been seeking for the past four years was right here. No wonder Kylie did so many activities
—biking, hiking, running, swimming. It was a rush, and adding a little danger to the mix could really get the blood going. Black
market transactions had initially given me that spring in my step, but only because they were illegal in both the human and
supernatural worlds.
What used to be thrilling had become like an office job. But running after Kylie—knowing that I would be taking her
right into the heart of danger soon—made my blood rush through my body like I was about to encounter the boss at the end of a
long video game.
My heart thumped through my ears as I slowed my pace near the cornfields. From beyond the trees came the distant
sound of waves, though with my superb hearing, I could have very well been standing right next to the ocean. I reduced my run
to a jog and honed in on my hearing, adjusting the volume to a lower level so I could hear everything else in the area.
Years of training had taught me precisely how to handle my enhanced senses. Untrained soldiers had a hard time
separating things like city noise from individual sounds. Because I had a mentor like Liam, I was able to develop my
heightened senses to perform for me in the specific ways that I needed.
Most shifters could just hear everything at a louder volume. Though plenty could pluck distinct things out of a jumble of
noises, it would take a while. And these days, most shifters didn’t need to do that anymore. There weren’t any wars as far as
we could tell, and our pack wasn’t under any kind of threat.
So long as nobody finds out about those poisonous bulbs…
I jogged up the miniature hill to the tree line and stepped over the threshold. Everything changed as soon as I entered the
forest separating the pack from the ocean.
How was it that things could change so drastically from one moment to the next? Just moments ago, I’d been bickering
with Kylie in the greenhouse. Now I was in hot pursuit of her scent to get her back to—
Shit, what was I about to do? Apologize?
Protecting her at all costs came with a cost on my damn pride, it seemed. It wasn’t like I had done anything wrong. I
knew better than to hand her a caretaker job that she wouldn’t even be present to do, and besides, the plants needed round-the-
clock care that was incredibly sensitive to fluctuations. How the hell was she going to balance her cushioned office job with
the demands of a supernatural greenhouse?
Oceanic salt tinted the breeze along with a luscious explosion of roses. I closed my eyes and allowed my nose to lead
the way, using skills I hadn’t touched for a good while. My body acted as a beacon that alerted me when a tree or debris was in
the way of my path. I stepped around or over the obstacles. I shoved things aside. I stumbled out onto what felt like the resistant
sensation of sand clutching my boots.
I opened my eyes, revealing the rich sapphire water winking with white strips of sunlight. Clay-brown, tan, and onyx-
black specks made up the sand, as vast and expansive as the ocean. A few large boulders sat on the sandy waves, leading to the
edge of the water where Kylie stood.
Her hair blew wildly around her head, lit aflame by the afternoon light. Her golden skin reflected a bronze sheen under
the direct sun, drawing me to her like a bug to a zapper on a porch. Logically, I knew that taking Kylie into town would be one
of the last big moves of the mission.
After our trip, I wouldn’t necessarily need to stick around if I didn’t want to.
I stared at her backside, noticing the amber halter top that she had pulled up to expose her midsection. White shorts
hugged her curvy hips and accentuated her round bottom, stopping mid-thigh where her delicate skin resumed. As I approached,
more of her profile came into view, and I noticed her shoulders bowed forward toward her hands that were clasped in a prayer
position at her chest.
She was lost in thought. And something about the way she was staring at the ocean made me want to stand guard. There
was a slight furrow to her brow, a worrisome crease to the corners of her mouth that were sloping toward her chin. That kind
of deep frown didn’t come from arguing with me. No, it had to be more than that.
I had to find out what it was.
“Kylie,” I said—but the wind swallowed my voice. “Kylie!”
She whirled to face me, eyes round as moons with vibrant sea-like colors living inside the hazel brown. Her thousand-
yard stare went on for a few minutes as her hair was whipped around her face by the ever-changing wind. Sea salt burned my
eyes. Roses tickled my nostrils.
She squinted. The worry dissipated, but what I saw there didn’t exactly feel that much better. It was a kind of strange
disappointment that came with rejection.
With my rejection.
Maybe turning her down in front of the pack hadn’t exactly been one of the smartest things to do. At all costs didn’t
include mating with her. And really, it contrasted the orders I was given. What the hell had Blake and Troy been thinking when
they paired us?
A second later, Kylie stumbled toward me. Her chin tilted back as she approached so she could hold my gaze. I always
forgot how short she was until she stood right in front of me. The uneven sand started to swallow my right boot.
“Come on,” I said over the breeze, “we’re going out.”
She blinked. “What?”
“I’m taking you into town.”
“For what?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you like anything in town?”
She grabbed my shoulders. “I swear to the goddess herself, Fred, if you’re joking right now—”
Goddess, the way her fingers burned through my cotton shirt was like radiant fire. It pulled me right toward her
unwillingly—though I wasn’t complaining much about proximity with her eyes keeping my attention.
“I’m not joking,” I assured. “Blake’s orders. We’re going into town.”
Hope twinkled in her eyes. Though the rest of her expression drooped a bit, she seemed alright with the statement.
Alright enough to loosen her grip on my shoulders.
But she didn’t let go. And she didn’t step back. “I like boba. And waffles.”
I nodded. “Then we’ll get some.”
“Right now?”
I glanced at the dim screen of my brick-like Nokia. Right now might be too soon for Liam to set everything up with the
Blondes. Tomorrow would be better.
I took Kylie’s hand and tugged her toward the trees where the ocean and the wind weren’t roaring in my ears. Again,
the burn came through her fingers, a singular flame seeming to exist in her palm that encouraged me to hold tight to her.
Allegiance might have inspired that kind of feeling—or something else.
But I didn’t want to think about it.
“Tomorrow,” I told her as I marched forward. She tugged on her hand, but I wouldn’t let her go. “You’ll go tomorrow.”
“Fred, why are you dragging me through the woods?” she groaned as she fought against my grip.
I laughed. “I’m not even holding you that hard.” I peered over my shoulder. “What’s wrong, genius? Have you lost some
of your strength?”
She tipped her head back with a defiant smirk as she dug her heels into the ground. My shoulder and elbow made a
resonant pop sound as the joints were abruptly pulled taut. The motion allowed me to pivot about on my heel, so I was back to
towering over her. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out how to wipe that aggravating smirk off her lips.
It would have to be something smart, something that she wouldn’t expect.
Like a kiss.
 “Oops,” she said with a shrug. “Guess I don’t know my own strength.”
I released her hand. Heat slicked my palm where our skin had practically fused together, the sudden sensation of cool,
salty air making me feel like I was missing something without her hand in mine.
She rubbed her palms together, and it made me think perhaps she felt the same thing, until she opened those plump,
glossy lips of hers. “If we’re not going now, what are we doing, soldier?”
“Going back to base.”
My eyes scouted the trees, branches, anything that moved—but never once did I feel like avoiding her gaze. Every
chance I got, I looked right into those hazel delights, trying to tell myself that the warmth growing inside me was just excitement
for the mission ahead.
Just for the mission. Not for Kylie.
And certainly not for the hope that sparkled in her eyes.
 Chapter 6 - Kylie
I stood on my front porch with my hands shoved in the pockets of my pleated skirt. The tank top I wore was the shade of
pink coneflowers with a few swirling ivy designs on it in an elegant green. White tennis shoes, scuffed up from wearing them
for everything but tennis, covered my feet decently enough. Maybe I needed new ones.
My eyes never left the dirt road. A couple people had passed by this late afternoon, but it had mostly been quiet since
I’d come out here and leaned against the freshly painted posts. Faye was probably in her apartment—sectioned in half, so the
left side was mine and the right side was hers—doing that sweaty yoga stuff she went on about. It got a bit musky in the foyer
that separated our apartments on the days she practiced it.
I zoned out while staring at the cobblestones leading to the dirt road.
One year in hiding had pretty much robbed me of any good socialization. I mean, I couldn’t fault my pack for being
weird with me—I was technically still a stranger around here—but I wasn’t sure how to interact with them. I didn’t know how
to join their celebrations or talk to other people inside the community center.
Those compact offices were usually pretty busy most days, and I found myself drawn to the crowds just as much as I
wanted to go for a ride on my bike. Yet no matter how much I tried to indulge myself with other people, I just missed too much.
Like the part where I got to act like everything was normal.
Because I had to face it at some point—I couldn’t leave the pack. I couldn’t waltz beyond the perimeter marked by that
grumpy bear, Jermaine. If I stepped a toe out of line, Jermaine showed up with the troops and I was escorted right back to what
was deemed a much safer zone.
One year of that had made me feel a little stir-crazy. So, when Fred had said he was taking me out of town—well, I sort
of lost my mind.
After he’d authoritatively marched me off the beach, I’d parted ways with him at the forked dirt path leading to the
community houses. Mostly, it was family cabins situated next to various homes sectioned into separate apartments that had
gorgeous green yards, Christmas lights in the windows, and awnings decorated with flowers.
So many flowers grew here. So much greenery sprouted from every part of every yard. Outside in the human world,
most lawns were just lawns. They were for showing off how short the grass could be and how barren the yards could get. One
of the things Id liked when I first arrived here with Liam was how much they utilized their spaces.
And neighbors were actually neighborly. That was how I had met Faye and gotten to be so close to her.
Or as close as someone in hiding could get to anyone.
Maybe I wasn’t as bad at socializing as I thought.
I heard the truck before I saw it—and then I had to cover my mouth while the tank shuddered up to the stony curb. Fred
leaned out of the open window on the driver’s side and patted the spotty metal like it was the most spectacular vehicle he had
ever driven.
After a couple of hesitant steps, I realized the pride on his face wasn’t for show—it was real.
I rounded the front of the rugged truck, noticing how the metal bumpers had plenty of scuffs and dents. The faded teal
paint had dozens of sun spots. The side mirrors were larger than my head. I felt like I was hauling myself up the side of a cliff
after I yanked open the hefty door to get inside.
The engine rumbled. Fred toggled the gear shift while the behemoth chugged forward.
“Isn’t she gorgeous?” he called over the center console—which I noticed was made of torn white leather with bright
green stitches. It reminded me of his eyes.
The same eyes that were staring ahead at the road with a simple contentment shining through them. A second later, he
was casting that shimmering glee in my direction, revealing a more striking verdant shade dashed with flecks of yellow. In his
eyes, brand new worlds existed, ones I hadn’t seen before.
I beamed. “I expected you to get mad about me taking too long to get to the truck.”
“What kind of asshole would do that?”
I shrugged while ignoring the voice in the back of my head mentioning the ex-boyfriend who had ditched me at the altar
—Drew.
To Fred, I smiled and said, “Good point.”
 “Just because I see the realistic side of life doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy things, Kylie.” He toggled the gear shift again as
he yielded right, turning toward the road that would take us out of the pack.
My heart raced.
Was this really happening?
“Sure,” I agreed. The truck lurched, sending me into the passenger door a bit harder than I anticipated. “Goodness, she
handles like a boat.”
“Isn’t she dreamy?”
I chuckled. “Fred, I’ve never seen you excited about anything that wasn’t a homemade bomb.”
But it was like he didn’t really hear me as he ran his hand over the dashboard. “This baby has seen some real history.”
“What is it with you and old stuff?”
The corner of his mouth—the side that faced me, anyway—twitched up. It was like a smile was slicing into his cheek.
Honestly, it was a bit intimidating because Fred, the guy who spent most of his time hunched over a keyboard, barely did much
grinning unless something was really interesting.
Like this truck, for example.
“I like vintage things,” he admitted as he shifted to second gear. We were hitting the twenty-something mile range of
speed. “Blake has a Jeep in better condition, but I’ll save that for a rainy day.”
I was starting to feel our increased speed as the wind snapped through the wide-open windows. I rested my arm on the
metal, feeling the heat of this morning’s sun glowing there. I felt like I was waking up after a long, deep sleep.
With the engine making that guttural roar and the breeze flinging my hair about, I felt like I was on the edge of something
brand new. We waved at Jermaine in the security booth, and right as we paused at the mouth of the pack entrance, I felt my
heart jump into my throat.
This was it.
I was venturing out today for the first time in a year.
A whole damn year.
As the truck lurched onto the main road, I couldn’t help the smile on my face. Tears stung my eyes as the lump in my
throat exploded, sending pressure right through my chest and to my core. Excitement consumed my very being as we hustled
right up to twenty, thirty, and then forty miles per hour, each threshold marked by Fred adjusting the gear shift to the appropriate
number.
I didn’t much understand manual vehicles, seeing as we had plenty of automatics, but the sheer joy that reverberated
from Fred right now—the jovial pleasure that poured out of his eyes as he dared to look over at me—shoot, nothing could beat
that feeling of satisfaction.
Nothing at all.
We didn’t speak much as we headed into town. It wasn’t until he pulled up to a normal-looking street in the most
normal-looking part of Beaufort that the sensation truly hit me.
I wasn’t on pack land anymore.
I shivered as I hopped out of the tall truck, wincing as I forced the door shut. “Might as well name it Goliath or
something.”
Fred appeared from around the front of the vehicle and stood near me with the keys twirling on his right finger. They
didn’t make a sound as he spun them around the digit, eyes glowing with interest as he stared down at me. He tucked his left
hand into the pocket of his baggy charcoal-black pants, dipping his shoulder in that direction in a sort of nonchalant, bad-boy
kind of stance.
His black shirt had gray stripes and looked like it had seen better days. It hung loosely around his muscular frame,
hiding what I knew to be defined pecs and abs underneath. It almost seemed unfair to hide that statuesque physique on such a
warm day—but who was I to judge his poor fashion choices?
I fixed my hair and glanced around, feeling overwhelmed by the sight of beautifully constructed tar roads with
sidewalks, decadently trimmed trees, and shops as far as the road extended. Boutiques, antiques, tourist spots, and local cafés
made up this road. I wanted to go inside every single shop and talk to every single person in the vicinity.
I was practically salivating over the idea.
 But as I tried to brush past Fred, he caught my shoulder, his touch like lightning against my bare skin. “Boba first.”
“But I wanna—” My faraway stare stopped short at the sight of his thin lips parting.
Oh. I hadn’t realized how close I’d stepped, or how he had drifted toward me to keep me from walking off, or how he
was bowing toward me, his white hair scooting over his eyebrow and drifting toward his mouth…
I pushed the lock of hair behind his ear. Right then, I felt the whole world shift, like we were two wolves standing on a
rotating disc. Too much weight in one direction would topple us off, so we had to stay still. I had to stay still, or else I might do
something weird with the guy who didn’t even have the dang balls to tell me no to my face.
“Sorry, I just…” His attention dropped to my mouth. No way were we both doing the same thing right now. He tried to
give me some excuse for why he had stopped me. “I just didn’t—”
“Want me wandering off?”
Neither of us moved. Were we just frozen in time now?
He blinked. He stepped back. He looked away.
And I tried to pretend like that didn’t make my heart sink.
He seemed to shake off the funk and put his usual steel mask into place. Sharp eyes, stone expression, a flat line for a
mouth. His brows were relaxed, but I could tell he was watching everything, even if he didn’t look in any specific direction.
He nodded toward my right—there was a boba shop right frickin’ there. I’d been so distracted by the street, by the fact
that I was free, that I just hadn’t noticed it.
Among other things.
He opened the entrance door for me, guiding me inside by the small of my back. The slightest pressure there made heat
blossom in my core. I stepped up to the counter, inhaling the rich smells of baked goods and freshly brewed tea. Everything
looked so good that I couldn’t figure out what I wanted to get.
Behind the counter, the short attendant wore a visor with cat ears over their red hair and a thick mask that had whiskers
on it. Their smile was evident in their crimson-brown eyes even though their mouth was hidden. They wore a typical barista
uniform made of a black collared shirt, slacks, and a matching black apron with a giant kawaii cat paw printed on the front.
Fred leaned toward the counter and ordered quickly in a husky voice. “Two strawberry milk teas, half sugar level, star
jelly pearls, regular sized.”
The attendant quietly tapped the screen in time with his order.
“Two mochi waffles, one chocolate and the other—” He narrowed his eyes at me like he was trying to read my mind.
“—and the other brown sugar.”
I just couldn’t stop blinking at him. I couldn’t believe he was ordering for me. I couldn’t quite grasp how he was just
figuring things out as he moved along. It wasn’t like we were on a mission or something.
“And a sitting cup of coffee for whoever wants it.”
I raised one brow at him. “Sitting coffee?”
“It’s for people who can’t afford to buy a cup of coffee,” the attendant explained. “Coffee on reserve.”
I nodded with a grin. What a lovely thing to do for a stranger. It made me look at Fred differently for a second—
because it didn’t seem like something he would do. Yet in all the time I had known him, it wasn’t like he was an asshole.
Not necessarily nice. But not an asshole either. I was impressed.
Fred plucked a duct tape wallet from his pocket, handed over a few bills, and waved off the receipt offered to him.
“Tell Mauve I said hi.”
“You got it, Fredster.”
The attendant smiled at me with their eyes and then wandered off to complete our order.
I was plain stumped by the time Fred got me to move down the long black counter to the pick-up window on the other
side. “How—why did—how did you—?”
“You really think I spent the last four years living under a rock?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just—” I gaped up at him and added softly, “Has it really been four years since I’ve seen you,
Fred?”
Faded memories seemed to be playing in his mind as he shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “I paid attention on the
few missions we shared.”
“The brown sugar was a great guess.”
“Liam mentioned how he used to make you two—”
“Brown sugar waffles,” we said simultaneously.
My heart lurched in my chest like it was a gigantic manual truck being driven by a grumpy shut-in named Fred.
I smiled weakly. “I miss him.”
“I know. Me too.”
“Is he okay?”
He shrugged. “He’s fine. You know Liam.”
“Yeah. He knows me.”
“I know you too.”
Our eyes locked, and goodness me, the way the world tilted again made me nauseous. Something was happening here,
something much stronger than Fred just inviting me out on a whim—no, on Blake’s orders.
“I don’t know what you did,” I admitted gently, “or why you changed your mind—but I’m glad you did, Fred. I haven’t
gone anywhere in a year.”
He nodded slowly. “Took some string-pulling, but Blake allowed it in the end.”
“Is that because he wants us to be mates?”
That word sounded bizarre coming out of my mouth, and I noticed how Fred squinted at the statement like it was a
poisonous snake.
His gaze drifted south past my nose, my lips, my chin…
“We’re not supposed to be together, Kylie,” he said in a low voice. “We just don’t match. We don’t get along.”
“Because we’re definitely not getting along right now.” My words were teasing, but my stomach was doing that flip
thing that happened when I looked over the edge of a tall cliff.
I felt like I was about to fall over.
“It’s not that.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “We’re total opposites. You’re all fashion and makeup. I’m practical.”
I chortled while tugging on his shirt, stretching the worn cotton thin. “I can see through this. That’s how fragile this poor
thing is.”
“You’re missing the point.”
“I think I’m enhancing the point.” I straightened my posture so that I was standing as tall as possible next to his
somehow-still-tall-while-hunched position. “Opposites can attract.”
“Are you making a case for us being mates?”
My whole face stiffened while I froze up. “I mean—I didn’t say—I wasn’t trying to make us sound good together.”
His eyes grew brighter as his pupils blew open wide. “You’re cute when you’re fumbling over your words.”
“And you’re just cute.”
Just as we became statues again, the attendant brought our order over. We gathered it up and went outside, settling in at
a black table with a huge umbrella over it. More cat paws and kawaii designs. It was too cute, too overwhelming, too sweet. I
didn’t want to go back home, but I knew that moment was coming since our trip was already halfway over.
I lifted the cup of milk tea, shook it, and then popped one of the oversized straws through the plastic kawaii film on top
so I could slurp up a few tapioca pearls. Flavorful jelly exploded over my tongue while I hummed contentedly, continuing to
slurp the sweet stuff greedily until one of the beads tapped my uvula. I choked, sputtered, and then covered my mouth while
trying to catch my breath.
Fred slid one of the mochi waffles over to me on wax paper. “Try not to die before you eat this, genius.”
“Try not to be so sour about everything.”
“You know what they say about old habits.”
I sniffled and cleared my throat. “And you know what they say about opposites.”
 He gave me a critical glare that held a hint of a smile behind it. But before he could really smile, he shoved the giant
straw into his mouth and took a long sip. Now I wasn’t the type to really pine after someone, but if it had to be anybody, Fred
was a great choice. He had gorgeous eyes, smooth pale skin, and this whole grouchy bad-boy façade that would have been
perfect for the lead in a murder mystery film.
He was plain hot. I didn’t have any problem admitting that. What I did have a problem with was how he treated me like
I was a problem.
I set the boba aside to lift the waffle. Heavenly sweetness filled every bite, causing me to hum so much that Fred gave
me an inquisitive look. I didn’t care that it seemed like I was a prisoner suddenly experiencing the outside world for the first
time in several years. (Technically, that was true.) I was just happy.
Happy.
And it was all thanks to Fred.
Our eyes locked again. I had half a mind to smile, but my mouth didn’t want to work well enough to thank Fred for the
outing. Whatever he had done to make this happen—or whatever had motivated him to do it—I was beyond grateful.
Say something. Sitting like this, I was level with his gaze, able to meet him head-on. It felt good to be on the same
level. It would make my thanks feel more meaningful. Just say it, Kylie. Stop stalling.
“Fred?”
His brows twitched up. “Yeah?”
“I just wanna say—”
“What?”
I nipped my lower lip. “The sunset looks really nice from here, right?”
He started to respond, but held up a finger while reaching into his pocket instead. Goodness me, that Nokia had to be a
thousand years old at this point. How was it still working? He pressed the green button and held it to his ear.
Without breaking eye contact, he listened. He nodded. He ended the call.
Concern swirled in those verdant seas. Who called him? What did they say?
“We have to go,” he said pointedly. His gaze flickered over my shoulder, to the truck, to the road behind him where the
tourist shops were located. When his gaze fell on me again, he sharply snapped, “Now.”
 Chapter 7 - Fred
Kylie reluctantly climbed back into the truck that Blake had allowed me to borrow. While I wanted to spend more time
talking to her about the sunset, I knew we had to drive back to Beaufort Creek pack land—slowly, diligently.
Like we weren’t setting a trap.
Silence fell over us in the cab. I kept my eyes peeled, my senses sharp. Everything came in striking contrast through the
mildly scratched windshield. Sunlight bounced off the window, blinding part of my view of the street. We had to get back
before the sun set completely.
Kylie cradled her boba cup and the half-eaten mochi waffle. “Thanks.”
I paused with my hand on the ignition. The key was in place, the dash was blinking to signal that the key was just sitting
there. I was holding it there. I was waiting for something to happen.
My attention spanned left to right, up and down. I couldn’t lose sight of our surroundings with what I knew. Liam had
called to tell me that Bernadetti was officially in town—that meant we had to make our presence known without getting caught
in a trap.
Kylie reached out to touch the radio. I gently pushed her hand away. “No, we should ride back in silence.”
She snorted with disbelief. “This thing won’t allow it.”
“Don’t you call her a thing,” I warned as I turned the key in the ignition. The engine fired up, sounding like a
remarkable gem of the past. “She’s a she. And she has feelings.”
“Well, sounds like you found your mate.”
I couldn’t for the life of me understand the ire in her voice. Sure, it should have been a playful jab, a joke. But it didn’t
sound like that. She made it seem like I was really choosing the truck over her.
What was with her and the whole mate business? It wasn’t like we would ever actually get along. She was starting to
get on my nerves about it.
My tone soured as I popped the truck into gear. “At least she doesn’t act like the sun is shining right out of her ass.”
Liam would have cracked the hell up if he were here. Perhaps he would have suffered Kylie’s irritation along with me.
I felt her anger while I cautiously peeled away from the curb and drove up the main street. Sunlight winked off shop windows,
car windows, signs. Nothing made me lose sight of our surroundings.
Nothing except for the way Kylie leaned over the center leather console and frowned with as much menace as she could
muster. “You are such a grump. Do you know that?”
“I’m realistic.”
“You keep using that word.”
I nodded curtly, tapped the blinker to signal I was about to turn right, and stopped at the stop sign. After checking that
the street was clear, I turned right, managing the gear shift as the truck picked up speed. Everything was muscle memory at this
point. I didn’t need to pay much attention.
Until Kylie poked my arm. “Say you’re sorry.”
“For what?”
“For being rude!”
I chortled as I came upon another stop sign. Blinker. Right turn.
Kylie poked me again. “Liam would make you apologize.”
“Or he would join my team and gang up on you.”
“I’d have to punish him too if he did that.”
A nostalgic smile crossed my lips. Not many of those these days. Not much happiness inside me. Thinking of Liam
definitely made me smile, though. It wasn’t so bad when I thought of the old days.
Well, until the old days turned into recent days. Those memories weren’t great.
My smile faded. “Yeah, well, he’s not here.”
“Why do you sound so mad about it?”
 “Aren’t you?”
She quietly sat back while the engine chugged on in the stretch of silence. That was a lot less awkward than whatever
passed as pop music on the radio these days.
She shrugged it off. “Liam does what he wants.”
“That’s an understatement.”
“Did you two have a lovebirds fight or something?”
I cocked my right brow in her direction without losing focus on the truck. “Why do you say it like that?”
“I don’t know. Because you two are so close.”
“Not closer than you.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched her plop her chin into her hand and look listlessly ahead. The boba cup sat
between her knees. The mochi waffle was largely untouched on her left thigh. With how much the truck vibrated, it was getting
ready to jiggle right off her lap. She absently blocked it from falling toward the center console.
Her nostrils flared. She probably sighed under the growling engine. “You’d be surprised.”
Damn, that wasn’t a very good look. Here I thought my best friend would at least keep in touch with his sister more
often than me. I guessed he wasn’t impressing us in that department.
I hated to see her upset about it. Nothing was worse than watching a star have her shine dimmed by depressing
realizations. Granted, I wasn’t the type to be positive, but if she needed a boost, then she needed a damn boost.
Even if it was at the expense of my ears.
“Alright,” I said louder, “turn on the damn radio if it would help.”
She popped upright and reached for the knob without wasting a second. Crackling sounds came through the speakers
first, then the upbeat clang of a guitar rhythmically following a basic bass beat.
I hunched toward the steering wheel as I reached the stoplight that would take us out of town. The brakes squealed a bit
as we came to a stop, my hand firmly on the gear shift. Now it was just pop music and the engine chugging, and merciful
goddess, Kylie was singing along to whatever this crap was called.
The more I had to listen to it, the more my shoulders crunched in. She pressed her arms to the ceiling and tilted her head
back, wiggling to the rhythm—or what passed as rhythm, I guessed—as she shouted the lyrics. A car pulled up next to us with a
couple of guys far more interested in her than I liked.
Kylie didn’t mind. She was lost in her own world, pink-decorated eyelids closed and glossy lips in a wide smile.
Smooth skin hosted the perfect contour that didn’t make her pores look big like it did on some women who weren’t as
experienced with foundation, or whatever it was called.
Nothing but joy on her face. Happiness on her lips. Smiles and more smiles.
It looked good on her.
The guys in the car to our left, a beat-up looking Honda that probably needed an oil change by the smell of the exhaust,
honked a few times to get Kylie’s attention. I growled while turning the volume down and leaned over the console.
“Hey!” The guys stiffened when they saw me. “Yeah, you. Why don’t you stare at someone else, huh? Pick up your jaw
off the ground and mind your own goddamn business!”
As soon as the light turned green, I took off, subconsciously reeling from how much those guys were pissing me off.
Seriously, they had acted like they’d never seen a gorgeous woman in their lives. Kylie was dreadfully adorable today with her
colorful halter top and pleated skirt. The tennis shoes were a nice touch.
It was like I was protecting the Girl Next Door. But she was actually more of a Girl Who Could Kick Your Ass. Looks
could be so deceiving. That was why I appreciated Kylie’s company. She didn’t try to act innocent or play off hurt. She was
real. She was honest.
And I didn’t think it was right to let some weird guys annoy her for having a good time.
Kylie laughed while clutching the door handle and the center console at the same time. The boba cup was fine between
her knees, but the mochi waffle had completely disappeared. I hoped she’d eaten it. I hoped it wasn’t on the straw-covered,
filthy floor of this truck. She was a beauty, but she was also in desperate need of detailing and a coat of paint.
The truck, not Kylie.
We cleared another light where I retained my speed. “What’s funny?”
 “You scolded those guys so hard—” Her cackles grew louder as she bowed forward to hug her stomach.
I made a left at another light and joined a long two-lane road that would take us to the highway. And that would take us
back to the pack. Hopefully, my cruise through town had helped Bernadetti get some eyes on us. The Blonde Dalmatians were
in position, so I didn’t have to worry about alerting them or Liam.
I just had to get Kylie home in one piece.
Both gigantic mirrors reflected an empty road behind us. I relaxed a little bit, allowing my stance to become more
casual than the hunched grump clutching the wheel and gear shift. Those guys had gotten under my skin just by gawking at
Kylie.
Needless to say, I took my responsibility to keep her safe at all costs very seriously. Once her laughter faded and she
took a huge sip of her boba, she collapsed into her seat, taking gulping breaths of cool air that thickened with the scent of salt. I
smelled roses right over it—that was Kylie.
And for some reason, the scent of her drew my attention. I looked at the way she reclined with her seat belt snug over
her lap, arms sprawled on either side of her, hair wild around her face. The lip gloss had smudged a bit, but everything else
was perfect. The shadow and eyeliner were top-notch.
She looked natural. She looked like she trusted me.
My heart twisted in my chest. I turned back to the road, trying to resist the urge to look at her again. Another distraction
would get us hurt. It wasn’t like I didn’t have eyes in the sky and on the ground to keep us safe. But I didn’t want to get caught
off guard.
That wasn’t something I wanted Kylie to relive.
Once the entrance sign appeared ahead, I slowed the truck. I flipped my signal. I took a smooth right onto the gravel.
Now that we were back, I didn’t have to stay as guarded. Jermaine was at the security post where he saluted us. We saluted
right back. In her neighborhood, I felt a creeping paranoia that put me on edge.
I parked in front of her apartment and shut off the engine. “Maybe I should come inside.”
“For what?”
“To hang around.”
She gave me a curious look that sent her trim brows right into her hairline. “To hang around?”
“What? I can’t hang out with you?”
“The other day, you wanted nothing to do with me. You barely said hi to me before we were announced mates.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, well, that’s different than—”
“Yesterday, you laughed at me when I said I wanted to be a plant caretaker. Then you chased me down to the beach
where you demanded to take me into town.”
I glared at her. “Hey now, I didn’t demand—”
“Oh, no. I’m not done talking.”
She held up a finger while slurping the last of her boba. The sound rattled my nerves, but I didn’t want to argue with her
if she was going to make a point that let me get into her apartment so I could check the windows and locks.
After she smacked her lips, she sighed. “You take me into town, treat me to something so delicious it makes me want to
cry, and now you want to hang out with me even though you said, and I quote, we’ll never get along.”
My glare turned into a shameful stare. She wasn’t wrong. I just hated hearing it out loud like that. Without the
appropriate context, I just sounded like a wishy-washy jerk.
“So, you must have a truly good reason for wanting to come up to my apartment to hang out,” she continued. She slurped
a tapioca jelly pearl into her mouth as though it intensified her point—and it did. “Please and thank you.”
A good reason? Well, I had several damn good reasons to go up to her apartment right this second and do a security
check. Come to think of it, the yards needed to be inspected as well. And what about her little friend, Faye? Did she need to be
questioned for any particular reason?
Aside from that woman, Kylie didn’t truly hang out with anyone else. Was there a reason for that? Maybe she wasn’t as
bright and sunny as I remembered.
Regardless of those facts, I had to do something to ensure her safety. Promises were important to me. Just because it
was part of my mission to protect her didn’t negate the sincerity of my promise to Liam that his sister would be safe in my care.
I meant to do right by that assurance.
At all costs.
“I want to hang out,” I started with an even tone, “because I want to see if we can be mates.”
Kylie stared at me for a while. Her eyelids fluttered as her mouth twitched into a temporarily hopeful grin. Then she
broke into a full-on witchy cackle. She popped open the hefty truck door, hopped down, and grabbed her mostly empty boba
cup from the seat.
“Mates,” she mocked with traces of laughter lingering. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
She slammed the door, the pressure of it whacking the frame and reverberating through my body. Her laughter faded as
she walked up the cobblestone path to her apartment home, but I could still feel it in my bones. I felt it vibrating like the engine
when I started the truck.
It hurt. I couldn’t figure out why, but it did. More than that, I was about to break a promise to a friend.
My Nokia went off. I yanked it out of my pocket and checked the screen, translating the coded text in my hand to an
alarming command from Jermaine to get Kylie the hell out of Dodge.
Shit.
I had to think of something else to make sure she was protected—and I had to do it fast.
At all costs.
 Chapter 8 - Kylie
“What a day.”
I say that to my apartment like it can respond. With the way things have been lately, I wouldn’t be surprised if the walls
started spitting back some things I’d told them in confidence. These old mustard-yellow walls needed a fresh coat of paint.
That would probably perk them back up, no doubt, and I kept thinking about it as I stared at them.
This half of the house was mine. I had a tan carpeted staircase on the right side of the living room that started at the
entry door. To the left was a fireplace that sandwiched the doorway leading to the kitchen. Sparse furniture surrounded me,
picked through from yard sales, thrift stores Faye had visited, and a few items donated from the pack when I first arrived.
Three beanbag chairs, two couches, and a coffee table somehow fit into this cramped living area, but it felt good to
stand here. It felt good for something to be stationary and mine. And yet, at the same time, it felt odd.
Because I didn’t have Liam with me.
Fred had dropped me off an hour ago. Or I should say that I left Fred an hour ago, sitting in front of the cobblestone path
next to the mailbox in his borrowed truck as I laughed my way back to my apartment. I stepped onto the porch, unlocked the
main door, and walked inside to head to the left where my side of the house was located.
It wasn’t until I was inside that I realized he had left. The truck’s engine had roared to life and then chugged off when he
drove away. Somehow, it left me feeling empty.
I shook my head as I wandered into the kitchen. Yellow and clay-red tiles made up the floor, and the walls were
covered with lighter yellow wallpaper hosting little dancing marshmallows. I remembered when Faye had helped me pick it
out. We’d spent an entire Sunday decorating the kitchen. Sandy tan counters held plenty of appliances and pots. The sink sat
against the far wall under the window, with the fridge on the right and a door leading into the backyard. The door was bolted. I
never really used it much. It was too overgrown back there.
As I glanced around, I furrowed my brows. “What did I come in here for?”
Maybe tea. Maybe a change of space.
Maybe nothing at all.
I went to the fridge with a sigh. Nothing appealing. Great, now I was stuck in my head while trying to figure out what in
the world had changed Fred’s mind about giving the mate thing the old college try. He’d been pretty firm about us not being
mates. One trip into town had done…what? Given him perspective?
Cool air hugged my midsection that was exposed by my pink crop top and white spandex shorts. I shivered and shut the
fridge door.
Fred was up to something. I couldn’t determine what precisely, but I could tell he was hiding some pretty big details
about our trip to Beaufort. The offer was sudden, my presence was demanded, and then he received a strange phone call on his
ancient Nokia phone while we were out that had changed his entire energetic structure.
It was like he was watching out for danger.
I frowned at the marshmallow wallpaper. Is he up to something with Liam?
My jaw ached from pressing my teeth together. Goodness, I was going to get a headache at this rate trying to think up
things that didn’t even exist. I had no proof of Liam even being involved. My brother was sneaky, but he wasn’t that sneaky,
and he was a terrible liar.
Then again, I hadn’t seen him since he dropped me off last year. Things had been bumpy since then, and at the same
time, I felt like I’d been able to experience a completely different world. This one was safe, kind, and boring. Excitement was
few and far between these days—and that was why I’d let Fred kidnap me with his monstrous truck and grouchy demeanor.
I had loved every second of it. I adored the way he took care of my body, guided me, and ordered for me. Never in my
life had I experienced someone taking the lead with the intent to please me instead of impressing me. Because Fred gave zero
F’s about whether or not he was impressing someone.
My ears twitched, and then I was at the kitchen sink staring out the window into the dimly lit yard. Part of me felt like I
was being watched. That was a feeling that kept coming these days. Maybe it was partially paranoia, or maybe it was the fact
that I had Jermaine and his security detail keeping tabs on me.
Was someone back there tonight?
I want to hang out. Fred had said that like we were old friends. Yeah, duh, it was true. We were old friends. We had a
long history of being friends.
But we weren’t close. He’d never even looked at me before the other day, during that meeting. And the look he’d given
me then was one of those attractive, soul-stopping kind of looks. It drew me to him like a thirsty animal to water. Until he’d
turned to our alpha and said he couldn’t do it.
A shadow passed over the window. I blinked a couple of times while my instincts took over. Moving slowly and
deliberately, I shut off the kitchen light. I stood in front of the sink and focused on the old house, hearing the muted sound of
Faye’s pop music playing in her upstairs bathroom—which was up and to the right from my current position.
Another shadow flitted over the windowpane. I felt a sparkling paranoia that tickled my upper back and made the hair
on my neck stand at attention. I was trying to steady my breathing, to keep my heart from kicking into high gear, but it had been
so long since I sensed anything like this. It had been a whole year.
What was going on?
My hands rested calmly on the sink, yet the rest of me stiffened. After a few seconds, my muscles slacked a bit,
allowing me to turn my neck. I heard a shuffling sound from the living room—like someone was inside my apartment.
Sometimes, Faye came over and just lounged on the couch. It could be her. But she usually announced herself when she
came inside. Besides, the door was locked. She would have had to use her spare key. Which was a sound that was tuned in to
my body whether I wanted it there or not.
It had been quiet the whole time I was thinking. Yet my thoughts had been loud enough for me to drop my guard.
What’s going on?
Paranoia slammed into me as I flipped around to face the shadows in the kitchen. Nothing but the doorway spilled light
into the room, enhancing the shadowy corners and making me feel like I was being swallowed by the void. No one was here.
But I could feel something.
I took a tentative step forward, and then another, carefully tuning out my fear so I could focus on the cabinet to my left.
Taped inside the door was my hunting knife. I could grab it to defend myself and then—
And then, I got drowsy. The room spun. Everything went dark.
I was deep in sleep, and I couldn’t get back to the surface.

***
Disorienting light welcomed me back to the world of the conscious. Since I couldn’t see, I used my remaining senses to
figure out what the hell had happened to me—maybe there would be a clue about why I had passed out in the kitchen lingering
nearby.
Had I not eaten enough after I got home? Sheesh, that was a question for the ages. Because I never skipped meals. I was
a scheduler and an organizer—so everything was planned right down to the millisecond. Usually. Typically.
Evidently, not today.
A shuffling sound echoed from my right. It moved to the front of my awareness, revealing a scent that felt eerily
familiar.
Evergreen.
That was the scent of the greenhouse. That was the smell that had gotten my attention on the beach even when I’d
thought I was alone. Evergreen dragged me the rest of the way up the metaphorical tunnel to the surface of everything, right on
top of a wooden chair in the middle of a sparsely decorated room. Something pungent tinted the air.
I was most certainly not in my apartment anymore. Some kind of glittery trails swirled around my head. My shoulders
stiffened. My body froze up. I was stuck. I couldn’t move—yet there wasn’t a speck of rope in sight from what I could see. No
duct tape. No handcuffs.
Just the swirls.
“You’re awake,” said a gravelly voice. The evergreen scent intensified at the sound. Because that was a sound I knew
all too well. And the way his voice shifted made my heart skip a beat. “Sorry I had to do this to you, but you wouldn’t let me
in.”
My eyes flickered north. There stood Fred, the guy who had taken me into town hours ago—or how long had I been
here at this point? Rage started at the base of my spine and worked its way up through my body. Even though I couldn’t move, I
could say everything I needed to say right now while he was standing there.
But no matter how much my nerves tingled, my tongue flicked forward, or my nostrils flared to draw and exhale air, I
couldn’t speak. My lips felt like they were glued together. More of the glittery swirls gathered at the front of my mouth. As they
drifted south and out of view, I felt them lace around my throat.
Oh, that was just cheap. If he was using magic to retain me, then he was breaking about a dozen supernatural laws. Not
to mention the human world and their legal jargon. Any higher-up official in the supernatural world was going to have a field
day unraveling the conventions getting broken here.
Aside from it being totally immoral, and the fact that it was a practice that had been banned from the black ops since the
seventies, it was just plain cheap.
And that made my rage boil to a breaking point.
Through my eyes alone, I expressed my disdain, pupils expanding as wide as possible so I could get every detail of his
stance and demeanor. The cold stone mask he frequently wore was traded for one of unfortunate regret—and that was just too
much. I couldn’t handle seeing that.
Because if he regretted this, then that meant I couldn’t predict his actions.
I was screwed.
“Your brother said at all costs,” Fred whispered huskily. His eyes dropped to my lap, sorrow clinging to his pinched
brows and tense jaw muscles. “I’m sorry, Kylie. I couldn’t think of another way to protect you.”
What?
“I told him it wasn’t a good idea.”
My chest flared with hot rage. What is going on?
“I told him I had a bad feeling about it. I just didn’t think it would work.”
He laughed bitterly. What made it so horrifying, aside from being so abrupt, was the fact that his expression didn’t
change at any point during his laughter. Fred could really be scary at times. Did he know that? Was that why they’d forced him
out of the black ops?
He shook his head and then sat down across from me. “You should sleep, Kylie. We have a long night ahead.”
Good goddess, how could he recommend something like sleeping when I was strapped to a chair by an invisible force
that glittered in the orange light?
In warm light. Like firelight.
I tried to crane my neck, but I couldn’t really look around. Fred had plenty of connections in the black market from what
I understood. That meant he had access to magic untouched by the usual supernatural world. Whatever it was had a potency that
made me panic.
More than that, it felt silky. It felt calm. I didn’t feel threatened by what held me in place, and maybe that should have
been a comfort, but I couldn’t help assuming the worst.
My brother had taught me to be suspicious of everyone, no matter what. Because the cost could be so much greater than
the disappointment.
Right now, disappointment circulated my system as fast as my blood. I didn’t know what to do with it or how to process
it. I was too tired to fight against my restraints and the magical glue that held my lips together. So, I really didn’t have much of a
choice other than sleeping.
I didn’t like that.
Fred sat up while studying the door. It was barred with enough iron to scare the fae away. “Don’t worry. I won’t sleep.
I’ll keep an eye out.”
For what? Neither of us were in danger, unless he had done something after he dropped me off.
Had my hiding place been compromised?
Had Liam gotten hurt?
More panic swelled with the tears that blotted my vision. They were hot and they burned my eyes as they spilled over
my cheeks. None of my training could have ever prepared me for such an experience. An old friend, not really a close friend,
but close enough, had just kidnapped me. We were alone in what appeared to be a one-room cabin somewhere that probably
wasn’t Beaufort Creek pack territory.
 I didn’t know what was going to happen. But I needed my strength.
With reluctance, I let my gaze drop. I focused on the floor, noticing the way Fred’s boots were only a foot away from
me. He was within touching distance. How was I supposed to trust him enough to sleep when he was that close to me?
His boots shifted. I saw him lean forward. And then—
The dizziness came again. A flicker of shadows came next. And I was thrown once again into the blackness of sleep
that I couldn’t control.
Trust him? Shoot, I didn’t really have a choice anymore.
I didn’t really have any control.
 Chapter 9 - Fred
My melatox plant had come in handy once again. Kylie fell asleep as soon as I tapped her forehead with the cotton ball,
sending her into a peaceful snooze that I hoped would prevent her from panicking again. While I couldn’t read her thoughts, I
could tell by the panicked flicker of her eyes searching mine for a thread of truth that she was freaking out inside her head.
I disposed of the cotton ball inside a plastic bag, being careful not to touch the side soaked with melatox. That stuff was
largely harmless but wickedly potent. A tap could put just about anyone or anything to sleep within two seconds. I’d seen
dragon shifters in their skyscraping dragon forms go down from a drop of this stuff.
The bag rustled as I set it on the table to my right.
The magical binds were for her safety and mine. I knew she wouldn’t trust me. I knew she wouldn’t let me convince her
to come inside her apartment, and I wouldn’t be able to get her out of her apartment without raising too much suspicion. So I
did what any soldier in my position would have done.
I kidnapped her.
Strange how the fire haloed her creamy skin. She was in a pink crop top and white spandex shorts, the kind that hugged
her hips to accentuate her curves. The way the firelight danced around her form, her skin appeared lit up with golden hues.
Glittery tendrils—the binding spell—floated around her body, close to her flesh.
She looked like a glowing goddess. Her hands were calmly set over her thighs. Her shoulders were slouched forward
slightly as her chin drooped toward her chest, but she didn’t look uncomfortable. I’d been assured by my contact that this
particular spell, done with a simple strip of magical tape to the nape of the neck, would never cause any discomfort or harm.
It would simply keep her from moving around and talking. Eventually, her lips would be freed as that part of the spell
wore off, but the rest of her would stay still. That was it. That was the spell. Minimal damage.
Well, the physical damage was minimal. Emotional damage? That was for a philosophical debate later on in the
evening when I chose to release her from the binds of the spell. Though I wanted so much to avoid arguing with her, I knew I
would have to let her out of the spell eventually.
She would need tea, food, a bathroom break. She would need to sleep on a cushioned surface on her own terms.
She would need to talk my ear off about the conditions of her kidnapping.
I stood from the chair and went to the window, tracing the windowpane that had been diligently painted with a clear
film of magical paint. This place was just outside Beaufort Creek pack land, tucked deep in the forest away from the main
roads. I made sure to cover our scent using a bottle of skunk urine that Jermaine had loaded into the Jeep for me to use.
His caution matched mine. When he’d sent me that text earlier, I drove directly to him at the mansion to trade out my
gorgeous hunk of a truck for the Jeep that Blake had originally offered to me. That hour had been spent preparing—and then I’d
gone to collect Kylie.
My goddess-given talents weren’t merely confined to computers and technology. I was a remarkable chameleon for a
wolf shifter, and I had my ways of ensuring my safety.
Now that my safety included Kylie, things looked a little different.
Clouds roamed the darkened sky. It was close to midnight now. Whenever Kylie woke back up, I would make sure to
get her some tea. Sitting and staring at her was technically my duty, but I wasn’t complaining much. She looked sweet when she
was asleep.
For someone who usually shits rainbows, yeah. She was sweet. I figured the rest of the mission wouldn’t be difficult
once I tuned her in to the plan.
My ears tingled, causing me to turn around. The Nokia sat on top of the black bags I’d brought with us, vibrating on the
lowest setting. I picked it up and checked the screen for the coded texts that the Blondes were sending me.
Their safety had been compromised. My heart sank as I read the details, feeling defeated by the mere notion of anyone
getting hurt on my behalf. Though I knew going into it that the mission would be messy, I wasn’t thrilled that we’d gone off
course.
At least one part of the mission was a success—and that was Bernadetti spotting us while I drove around town. He
hadn’t followed us out of town because he’d gotten distracted by the Blondes. Everything had been going according to plan
until the Blondes got jumped.
Jermaine had sent a small team of three wolves to intervene. Once the Blondes had been taken to safety, Jermaine had
alerted me that Kylie needed to be removed from the pack. She had to be taken out of sight. We had to cover our tracks.
Hence the skunk urine.
Another text rolled in. Jermaine reported that the pack was safe. They’d been able to shake Bernadetti and put everyone
on lockdown. More guilt rattled me as I returned to my chair and focused on Kylie.
Her eyelids fluttered. She was about to wake up.
The small kitchenette behind me held a wood-burning stove and a miniature ice box. Other than the bread box on the
small counter, there wasn’t much else. This place had the essentials—a small pantry for dried goods and nonperishables, a cot
in the corner near the fireplace, a table and a couple of chairs—so it was perfect for hiding.
Not for long. But for a little bit. Enough to catch our breath and regroup.
I poured water from a pitcher into the kettle. I set it on the stove, lit a match for the wood inside, and shut the iron door.
The way it thudded seemed to echo through the room behind me, reminding me how close Kylie was to me at all times. Only a
few steps away.
That should have been the terms from the start. If Blake had wanted me to be her mate as a cover, then I would have
been able to play along. But pride had gotten the best of me. And then I was just plain irritated at having a wrench thrown into
my plan. I was supposed to stand guard and watch, not mate with the damn girl.
But as I listened to the water start to boil inside the kettle, I glanced at Kylie. I watched her serene expression twist as
she woke. I noticed the tip of her nose was red from crying earlier, and her cheeks were flushed too. Perhaps the room was too
warm.
After briskly walking past her, I kicked some sand into the flames, watching them die down a bit and take some of our
light.
“W-what?” Kylie croaked behind me. Sounded like part of the spell was wearing off now. She whimpered and then
groaned, “Wow, my neck hurts.”
I walked past her without looking at her. “Sorry about the spell.”
She smacked her lips together a few times. “I can finally talk. Damn.”
“Sorry about that.”
“We both know you’re not actually sorry, Fred.”
Alright, I probably deserved that, but she didn’t have to say it so rudely. “Yeah, well, you talk a lot when you’re
stressed.”
“And you make rash decisions.”
I pursed my lips angrily while taking the kettle from the stove. It barely had time to whistle. Her tea wouldn’t be
scalding hot, but it would do the trick. It would calm her nerves and make it easier to talk to her.
The tin on the counter only had loose chamomile leaves in it. I had gathered some berries earlier, so I popped those into
the metal mesh tea holder that had a clay mushroom hanging on the end of the chain. With a little brown sugar and a dash of
coconut cream from a can, it was ready.
I carried it to Kylie who frowned at her hands. “I can’t move them.”
I glumly set the mug on the table to the right. “Right—my bad.”
I reached around her neck, noticing how her eyelids fluttered rapidly before snapping open to reveal her hazel-brown
irises. Shocked pupils opened wide as I located the magical tape on the nape of her neck. She just kept looking up at me
without tilting her head, breathing so erratically that I thought she was about to sneeze.
She winced when I plucked the end of the tape up. I slowly peeled it away from her skin, watching how her cheeks
flooded with golden heat as I cradled her now lolling head. Being careful not to touch too much of the sticky part, I folded the
magical tape with my thumb and forefinger as I massaged the back of her neck.
I was bowing over her now, monitoring the way her body responded to having full control again.
Her eyes never left mine. “What are you doing?”
“Bodies can be finicky. Nerves are weird,” I explained softly. “I didn’t want you to convulse and fall over. I’m trying to
ease your nerves.”
Her eyelids batted once and then snapped open again. A soft groan vibrated her throat. Her knees moved slowly,
bumping into my legs and drawing my attention to her lap. She idly rubbed the tops of her thighs, forward and back, slow lines
that seemed to match the rhythm of my fingers against the back of her neck.
From this angle, I saw every exposed inch of her flush with goosebumps. It started at her throat and then trailed to her
cleavage, exploded along her arms, and rolled in waves over her thighs. Magic did weird things to people.
At least she wasn’t yelling at me.
“It’s nice in here,” she whimpered. “It’s so…hot…”
“Too hot?”
She arched in the chair while stretching her arms on either side of her. As she raised them up, I stepped back, carefully
releasing her neck.
Something broke in me. Something strange happened that made me want to scoop her into my arms and never let go. I
wasn’t sure why I felt so drawn to protecting her, or why I was urgently trying to recover my stance. The way her breasts
plumped up as she breathed through her stretch made my cock twitch.
I folded the tape again, and then again, trying to ignore how she widened her legs and did another round of stretching.
As soon as she righted herself in the chair, her eyelids were drooping, and she was grinning sleepily.
I lifted the mug and extended it to her. “Better?”
“As good as it can be after being tied up by my brother’s best friend.”
Add that to the list of things I never thought I’d hear come out of her mouth.
That list was starting to get long. Among the most popular were her saying that I was cute back at the boba shop and her
saying that we got along.
Do we get along?
I studied her delicate fingers cradling the mug. Just then, the fire sparked back to full intensity, the light of it splashing
over her thick thighs as she turned to observe it. “That’s so nice. It’s cozy here.”
“You’re shockingly positive about this whole thing.”
“I can’t change much now that I’m here.”
I stared at her. Was there a damn thing on this planet that bothered her at all? Originally, she’d appeared pretty upset
over the whole mate rejection thing. Then when I had suggested it later, she laughed. It was like she had gotten over it already.
Was that true?
And if it was, why the hell did it irritate me to see her so serene about it?
“That’s true,” I agreed. “I’m sorry it has to be like this, Kylie.”
Her head snapped around, eyes smoldering with fury as she spat, “You sure have a lot of explaining to do, mister.”
She was right about that. I sure did.
I guessed I’d better start talking now.
 Chapter 10 - Kylie
There was absolutely no reason for the removal of that magical tape to feel as sensual as it did. Even as I felt my
agitation rise up again, pouring out of my gaze and from every pore of my body, that passionate and mesmerizing gesture had
me stunned. My thighs ached as my slit reminded me that no one had dared touch me with such tenderness in many years.
I had spent so much time investing in my skills as a makeup artist and a soldier that I hadn’t bothered with tending to the
other things I needed. Like getting laid or having a good time. Those things weren’t important in the middle of war zones or
behind abandoned buildings that weren’t so abandoned.
Never did I have a reason to think of it—until Fred peeled that tape off the back of my neck.
Rippling cold waves roamed my body as I sipped the tea. I smiled weakly at the surface of the milky liquid. “Brown
sugar and—” I licked my lips. “Coconut milk?”
“It’s what we had.”
“Lucky me.”
Fred huffed slightly, a kind of resolved sound, like he was amused by my unsurprising reaction. It was a known fact that
I loved brown sugar. Anybody who knew me decently could state that confidently.
Really, it did feel lucky to have a comfort item in this limbo-like space. I finally got a good look around, confirming my
previous impression of a sparsely decorated cabin as correct.
I looked at the dark window to my right. “Where are we?”
“It’s a cabin just outside of Beaufort Creek land.”
“What’s going on?”
Fred took a crackling breath. That sound was enough to grab my attention, turning me around in my chair as he settled
back into his. The legs wheezed under his weight, then fell silent as he turned into a frigid glacier.
“Your brother is on a mission in Canada,” he explained in a low voice. “He called me before I joined your pack about
a mission I needed to complete here.”
I stared blankly at him.
He rubbed his chin, avoiding my gaze, those ardent emerald eyes glancing at the flames behind me instead. Reflected in
those orbs were dancing spires of carroty-red light. “The mission was simple—I was tasked to protect you from any harmful
side effects of what we needed to accomplish.”
I wasn’t a fan of his tone.
Every syllable carried with it a hesitance that reminded me of when parents skirted around important subjects with their
children. Before my parents were taken from this world, they had done the same thing. They’d tried to lie to us about the
severity of the wolf-vampire wars.
We had been at risk the whole time, but they hadn’t once allowed us to know that information. I’d made peace a year
ago with the fact that they had simply been trying to give us a childhood free of looming danger.
Not that it helped much in the end when they were slain.
But they had tried. They had done their best.
The mug shivered in my hand. I set it on the table to my left and folded my fingers together in my lap.
“Fred, you’ve never been vague,” I stated blandly. “Spit it out. Please.”
He met my gaze then, such a terrifying fervidness that made me think about how close he had been, bowing over me
while he removed that tape. Care. Caution. Concern.
Was that a hint of desire that burned in his eyes—or was that just the flames in the fireplace?
“Operation Paragon.” Fred closed his eyes, swallowed hard, and then resumed holding my gaze. “Bernadetti was never
captured, right?”
“Right.”
His brows twitched together and then parted just as quickly. The way his lips parted and the way his tongue squirmed
around the corner of his mouth made me shudder again. “He was spotted in the States recently. So, Liam called with a plan. If
he got close enough to Beaufort, if he was spotted in town, then—”
 My vision tunneled. “No.”
“I swear, Kylie. I tried to tell him it was a bad idea.”
“No, no, no.”
I gripped my knees while lurching forward. Nausea had abruptly slammed into my gut, making it feel like I was about to
lose every ounce of tea I had just consumed. No, this wasn’t happening right now. It couldn’t be real.
Uncomfortable memories floated to the front of my mind as I stared at the ground. “I know exactly what you did, Fred.”
“Your brother wanted me to protect you while—”
“While you both used me as bait.”
Silence crowded the space between us, so thick that I would have mistaken it for a curtain given how hazy it made my
vision. My heart was slamming against my ribcage. My lungs were burning with the air I was forcing into them. My back ached
while I dug my fingers into the flesh around my kneecaps.
Bernadetti was in every single one of my nightmares. Ever since that explosion, I hadn’t been able to sleep without
seeing his smug smile and hearing those disgusting things he used to say to me whenever no one else was nearby.
Fred dropped to his knees in front of me. It was weird seeing his stern demeanor break into pure guilt.
Ah, so that was the guilt he was feeling earlier. He couldn’t handle deceiving me so badly, could he?
I sneered. “You did this.”
“I told him it—”
“But you still did this.”
Fred bowed his head as he slouched forward, collapsing onto his haunches. “Kylie, I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
“You don’t know that.”
I practically catapulted myself from the chair—then stopped when I realized I was barefoot. I wiggled my toes. I stared
at them the same way I did after a lengthy shift in my wolf form.
Fred didn’t miss a beat. He drifted to a pile of black bags I hadn’t seen from my vantage point in the chair and dug
through one of them. When he returned to me, he slapped some socks into my hand.
Grumpily, I yanked on the socks and went to the cot in the corner of the room. That wasn’t a whole lot of distance, but it
was enough to make me feel like I was getting some space from Fred.
I was livid with him and my brother. This whole time, I had trusted my brother to protect me. I’d trusted the pack he
had dropped me in to keep me out of danger’s way.
Yet apparently, there had been an end goal to my presence there.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “You gave me hope.”
Fred looked lost. Even with his height, he somehow appeared to make himself smaller by slouching. As if by doing that
he could absolve his guilt. “About what?”
“About us.” I pointed to my chest where my heart was currently breaking into several pieces. “You gave me hope about
being my mate, and then you rejected me. I knew it was suspicious when you tried to snap it right back. You were using me.”
I tightened my arms over my chest to hug the hurt away.
“Oh, goddess,” I whimpered. “Everyone was using me. Blake set the whole thing up, didn’t he? That’s why he
announced us as mates. That’s why—”
I covered my mouth. It felt like I was about to be sick.
Fred closed the space between us and took my shoulders. “Hey, listen to me.”
I stared fearfully at him with my hand over my mouth. Was it vomit? An angry tirade? Sobs?
No clue. And I didn’t want to find out.
“Listen,” he insisted softly as his thumbs scoped the edge of my crop top’s sleeves. His fingers warmed my skin. They
roved beneath the fabric and captured my attention harder than anything in my life.
I was most certainly listening.
“I am sorry, Kylie,” he whispered mournfully, “because it was wrong to make you the bait without your knowledge. We
should have involved you.”
I glared at him while dropping my hand. “You did involve me.”
“We should have asked—goddamn it, Kylie. You know what I mean.”
The hiccup that surfaced caught me by surprise. I was about to start crying again. Good thing I had washed all that
makeup off right when I got home. I hated it when my mascara ran because of crying. Fretfully, I wiped my cheeks,
preemptively trying to wipe the tears away.
No use. They were coming whether I wanted them or not.
As my anger turned into betrayal, I started to shiver. No longer did I have hot waves of agitation to warm me. I was
robbed of that warmth, consumed by icy layers of disappointment. In my brother. In Fred.
In my pack.
Despite how much my body protested, I shook Fred’s hands from my shoulders and marched to the table to collect my
tea. I plopped in front of the stony hearth, taking deep, shuddering breaths as I tried to collect myself. I couldn’t change what
had happened. I couldn’t make it go away either.
I had to think of something else.
If Fred was supposed to protect me—if the mate thing was a setup—then I had to stop reaching for him. I had to stop
seeing him as the only person in the vicinity who understood my constant uphill battle of a recovery from being in the black
ops. Clearly, he knew many things about me.
But he didn’t seem to know just how big of a mistake he had made.
I choked on a sob. “Where are we going next?”
“We have a rendezvous point set up in Buckhannon, Virginia.”
I nodded at the fire, ignoring the steamy tears that trickled down my cheeks. “10-4, soldier.”
“You can’t hide that you’re hurt, genius.”
“Oh, I’m not going to do a damn thing to hide my hurt, you fucking putz.”
I whirled to face him, sending every aching molecule of anger in his direction. He flinched and stepped back almost
like it had worked. But I wasn’t fooled. I knew Fred. He could easily recover from any kind of offense, if he felt any offense at
all.
In this case, he seemed genuinely upset. However much that was true, it wouldn’t last long. He would erase those
feelings in favor of the mission. Because the mission would always take precedence over everything else.
I rolled my eyes back to the fire. There wasn’t much use fighting the pain that took residence in my chest. It would take
years to reduce the ache, but I was willing to do it so long as it meant we put Bernadetti in his place. And soon after that, I
would have plenty of words for my brother and Fred.
“I assume the objective was to lure him out of hiding,” I said with enough snark to sour the tea in my mug. “Did you
catch him? Did it work?”
I knew the answer to that question. Because if it had worked, I would have gone to bed in my apartment without
knowing a thing about the situation. Maybe my brother would have called and debriefed me. Maybe. So long as it didn’t
compromise any of his plans, of course.
Fred sighed as he walked toward me. I could feel the prickling sensation of my irritation inflaming my skin. It was a lot
like my instinctive awareness of proximity which was sending red alarms through my brain the closer he got to me. A mixture
of defiance, fear, and longing swept through my body fast enough to bring the nausea back.
I closed my eyes.
After all that crap, all that uncertainty, all that joy that came from yesterday and the resulting disappointment today, I
still wanted Fred to hold me. I still wanted to feel his soothing touch, his attentive and tender gaze. I wanted the problems to
just go away so I could just sit with him here in front of the fire and—
And what? Kiss him?
I squeezed my eyelids harder.
When he touched my shoulder, some of my muscles relaxed. “Kylie, it worked. We got him to give away his position,
but…”
Oh, I hated that word so much.
 “…the Blonde Dalmatians got hurt.”
My eyes snapped open. “Karla and Cora?”
“Yeah, they’ve been here for a bit.”
“I see.”
He slid his arm around my shoulder. I let him pull me into him, not fighting the way my body screamed with
simultaneous relief and irritation. I was tired of fighting my emotions. I was tired of fighting everything.
“I think Bernadetti has a team he already planted around here helping him out. I don’t know for sure. It’s just a feeling.”
I snorted, quoting my brother without hesitation. “Feelings aren’t facts.”
“Shut up, Mullen.”
“Make me.”
His grip on me tightened—and that was when I noticed the closeness of his lips to my earlobe. Torrid breaths coasted
my ear, soft static marking the sound of his inhale and exhale. His fingers trailed north over the sleeve of my top, tickled my
neck, and then pushed my hair behind my ear. A few silky strands rebelled and fell back into my face.
His forefinger traced a line from my chin to my jaw. The way his fingers dropped back to my throat sent a sweltering
breeze right to my core. My thighs ached again. Goosebumps flooded my breasts and stomach. That taunting and defiant
statement was being taken very seriously right now. I could feel it.
Right as the flames crackled in the fireplace, his fingers cradled my chin with his thumb tilting my face toward him. My
hair fell over my face. His hair blocked his features. Ragged breaths caressed my mouth as he drifted closer…and then
closer…
He released my chin and drifted away.
Oh, that was so cold. That was so harmful. I turned back to the fire with such a defeated feeling, utterly lost in my head.
Had I done something wrong just now? Was I too trusting of Fred?
A heavy fur draped over my shoulders, nearly causing me to spill my tea. Fred dropped to the ground beside me with
his own, took the tea from my hands to set aside, and then yanked my upper body into his lap.
“Sleep,” he commanded as he stroked my hair out of my face.
Tears returned with a fierceness—and he wiped them away.
He wiped every single one of them away.
Another random document with
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home of the maize-plant, and of the deities producing it, and also of the Gods of
Procreation. It was the Region of the Evening Star, Tlauizcalpantecutli, the planet
Venus. In Codex Borgia (sheets 43–46) we seem to see a subdivision of the
Western region into North, South, and West. This region may also be collated with
Tamoanchan, the paradisaical land of abundant maize, where the maize goddess
Tlazolteotl gave birth to her son Centeotl.

Mictlampa, “Region of the Dead,” also falls to be noticed in the section on “heaven
and hell.” Symbolically it is the region of drought.

[Contents]

THE SUPPORTERS OF THE HEAVENS

Just as we gain light upon the subject of the Mexican idea of the universe from
Maya sources, so do we find a similar correspondence in the beliefs of the two
races as regards the conception that the heavens were supported by certain
deities. Thus the Maya believed that the heavens were upheld by four gods called
Bacabs, and we find pictures in the Mexican Codices which depict certain deities
upholding both the heavens and the earth. On sheets 49–52 of Codex Borgia
(upper half) are seen the gods of the four quarters and the four supporters of the
sky, which last are Tlauizcalpantecutli, [61]the Sun-god, Quetzalcoatl, and
Mictlantecutli. On sheets 19–23 of Codex Vaticanus B the four upholders of the
heavens are given as Tlauizcalpantecutli, Uitzilopochtli, Quetzalcoatl, and
Mictlantecutli, and the four terrestrial gods as Xipe Totec, Mictlantecutli, Xochipilli,
and Centeotl. The first four are shown upholding the starry firmament, so that we
are left in no doubt as regards the existence of such a conception as the support of
the heavens by certain gods. The close correspondence between the personnel of
the sky-bearers in the two MSS. proves a fairly universal acceptance of the belief,
especially as Xipe Totec, and Tonatiuh the Sun-god have much in common. 32

[Contents]

THE AZTEC HEAVENS

According to ancient Mexican belief various destinations awaited the dead. Warriors
slain in battle repaired to the region of the sun, where they dwelt in bliss with the
deity who presided over that luminary. Sacrificed captives also fared thence. These
followed the sun in his daily course, crying aloud and beating upon their shields,
and fighting sham battles. “It is also said,” writes Sahagun in his History of the
Affairs of New Spain (Appendix to bk. iii, ch. 3), “that in this heaven are trees and
forests of divers sorts. The offerings which the living of this world make to the dead
duly arrive at their destination, and are received in this heaven. After four years of
sojourn in that place the souls of the dead are changed into divers species of birds
having rich plumage of the most brilliant colours.” These were known as
tzintzonme 33 (“little bird which flies from place to place”), and they flitted from
blossom to blossom on earth as well as in heaven, sucking the rich fragrance from
the tropical blooms of the deep Valleys of Anahuac. This region is the Ciutlampa,
and perhaps the Tamoanchan alluded to above.

Tlalocan.—An even more material paradise was presided over by the water-god or
deity of moisture, Tlaloc. Sahagun [62]calls this a “terrestrial paradise,” “where they
feign that there is surfeit of pleasure and refreshment, void, for a space, of torment.”
In that delectable region there is plenteousness of green maize, of calabashes,
pepper, tomatoes, haricots, and it is fulfilled with variegated blossoms. There dwell
the god Tlaloc and his followers. The persons who gain admittance to this paradise
are those who have been slain by lightning or thunderbolt, the leprous and the
dropsical—those whose deaths have in any way been caused through the agency
of water—for Tlaloc is god of that element. Existence there is perpetual. The
paradise of Tlaloc was situated in the east in a climate of eternal summer.

Homeyoca.—The interpreter of the Codex Vaticanus A states that the abode of the
Creator of the Universe, Tonacatecutli, was Homeyoca or Homeiocan, “place of the
Holy Trinity.” The etymology is vague, but would appear to apply to duality rather
than trinity, a suggestion which is buttressed by the androgynous character of the
creative deities. In an accompanying picture he points out the various departments
of this heaven as “the Red Heaven,” “the Yellow Heaven,” “the White Heaven.”
Young children, he says, went to a specific paradise, but it was thought that they
would return to re-people the world after the third destruction. They were nourished
by a milk-giving tree round which they were seated, getting suck from the branches.

But we have glimpses here and there in Aztec literature of a much more elaborate
series of heavens, thirteen in number. The first contained certain planets, the
second was the home of the Tzitzimimê, who included many of the great gods, the
third that of the Centzon Mimixcoa, or star-warriors, who were many-coloured—
yellow, black, white, red, blue—and provided the sun with food in the shape of
blood. The fourth was inhabited by birds, the fifth by fire-snakes (perhaps comets),
the sixth was the home of the winds, the seventh harboured dust, and in the eighth
dwelt the gods. The remainder were placed at the disposal of the high primal and
creative gods Tonacatecutli and his spouse Tonacaciuatl, [63]whose abode proper
was in the thirteenth and highest heaven. 34

[Contents]

MICTLAMPA AS HADES

The Hades of the Aztec race was Mictlampa, presided over by Mictlantecutli (Lord
of Mictlampa) and his spouse (Mictecaciuatl). The souls of the defunct who fared
thither were those who died of disease, chiefs, great personages, or humbler folk.
On the day of death the priest harangued the deceased, telling him that he was
about to go to a region “where there is neither light nor window,” and where all was
shadow, a veritable land of gloom, the passage to which swarmed with grisly forms
inimical to the soul. It was a vast, trackless, and gloomy desert, having nine
divisions, of which the last, Chiconahuimictlan, was the abode of the lord of the
place. Rank and privilege would appear to have been maintained even in this dark
realm, although all offerings to the dead must first be inspected by Mictlantecutli
himself ere being passed on to their proper owners. Sahagun states that four years
were occupied in journeying to Mictlampa, evidently an error for four days, as
elsewhere he says that the former period was spent within the regions of the dead.
The journey thence was replete with terrors. Says the interpreter of the Codex
Vaticanus A: “In this region of hell they supposed that there existed four gods, or
principal demons, one of whom was superior, whom they called Zitzimatl, who is the
same as Miquitlamtecotl, the great god of hell. Yzpuzteque, the lame demon, was
he who appeared in the streets with the feet of a cock. Nextepehua was the
scatterer of ashes, Contemoque signifies he who descends headforemost; an
allusion being made to the etymology which learned men assign to the name of the
Devil, which signifies deorsum cadens, which mode of descent after souls they
attribute to him from this name and Zon. Yzpuzteque is he whose abode is in the
streets, the same as Satan, he who on a sudden appears sideways. It appears that
they [64]have been acquainted with the Holy Scriptures, although clearer arguments
in proof of this fact are adduced in the course of the following pages. They say that
these four gods or demons have goddesses.”
These and other dread beings, according to the same MS., rendered the hellward
journey terrible in the extreme, and an attempt was made to mitigate the terrors of
the passage between the two worlds by means of passports of much the same
character as the spells in the Egyptian “Book of the Dead,” which franked the soul
past the numerous demons and dangers which awaited it. The first paper served to
pass him by two mountains which threatened to clash together and crush him. The
second saved him from the maw of a huge snake. Others helped him to face the
lurking terrors of eight deserts and eight hills, and to avoid the grim crocodile
Xochitonal. A wind of sharp flint knives then attacked him. Lastly he came to the
river Chiconahuopan (Nine Waters), which he crossed on the back of a red-
coloured dog which accompanied him and which was killed for that purpose by
having an arrow thrust down its throat. It is not clear whether this dog acted as a
guide to Mictlampa, or whether it preceded the soul, but it would seem that its
master found it awaiting him when he came to the banks of the river, in the passage
of which it assisted him. It kept its vigil on the opposite bank, however, and had to
swim the river ere it could reach him.

The deceased then came before Mictlantecutli, to whom he made suitable gifts—
cotton, perfumes, and a mantle. He was told to which sphere he must go. It is
obvious that Mictlampa was not so much a place of punishment as a place of the
dead, a Hades, where the souls of the good and evil were alike consigned. Its
locality is partially fixed, for it is “the place where the sun slept,” and, like the
Egyptian Amenti, it was therefore antipodean, or occupied the centre of the earth.
After a four years’ sojourn in this dark monarchy the soul was supposed to come to
a place where, according to the interpreter of the Codex Vaticanus, it enjoyed a
measure of rest. [65]

1 Translation in Kingsborough, vol. vi, p. 198. ↑

2 Op. cit., p. 207. ↑
3 L. Spence, The Popol Vuh (1908), description of bk. i; Brasseur de Bourbourg, Le Vuh Popol,
Paris, 1861. ↑
4 An important work republished with a Latin translation by Dr. W. Lehmann under the title of
Traditions des anciens Mexicains (Jour. Soc. Amer. Paris, n.s., vol. iii. Paris, 1906. pp. 239–
298). ↑
5 Kingsborough’s translation, vol. vi, p. 171. ↑
6 Chavero’s edition, Mexico, 1892, p. 21. ↑
7 See the Popol Vuh, bk. i., for a Quiche analogy to this tale of human degradation. ↑
8 Chavero’s edition, Mexico, 1891, pp. ii ff. ↑
9 Hist. de Tlaxcala, in Ternaux-Compan’s Voyages, tom. lxxxvi, p. 5; also edition by A. Chavero,
Mexico, 1892. ↑
10 Hist. Antigua de Mexico, bk. i, c. 4. ↑
11 First Relacion. ↑
12 Historia Eccles. ↑
13 A variant myth makes Quetzalcoatl the god who seeks bones in the underworld from which to
make the human race. As he returns, the bones drop to earth and quails gnaw them. Ciuacoatl
pounds them into a paste from which men are formed. The Anales de Quauhtitlan makes the gods
create man from the cinders of the worlds destroyed in the four epochs. ↑
14 Probably because of his status as god of twins and of duplicates of all kinds. ↑
15Obviously this sacred bundle is in the same category with the “medicine-bundle” of the North
American Indian tribes, and it would seem that from such a form certain of the Mexican gods
were evolved. ↑
16 Bk. vii, c. 2. ↑
17 For further information regarding this incident see Boturini, Idea, section iii, 14, “Tlatocaocelotl.” ↑
18 These metamorphoses, or at least the first two, are obviously founded upon Xolotl’s dual
characteristic as a twin. The resemblance between his name and that of the little amphibious
animal axolotl is due to the monstrous character of both. ↑
19 Hist. du Tlaxcallan in Ternaux-Compan’s Nouvelles Annales des Voyages (tom. xcix, p. 129). ↑
20 Hist. Antig. de Mexico, tom. i, p. 7. ↑
21 Storia Antica del Messico, tom. ii, p. 7. ↑
22 Hist. Eccles, p. 81. ↑
23 Curtin, Creation Myths of Primitive America, Intro., p. 35. ↑
24 Relaciones (Chavero’s edition; Mexico, 1891), p. 11. Hist. Chichimeca (Chavero’s edition; Mexico,
1892), p. 21. ↑
25 Among the American races the soul was thought of as residing in the bones. See Brinton, Myths
of the New World, pp. 295 ff., 299, 321. ↑
26 Anales de Quauhtitlan. ↑
27 Translation of interpretation in Kingsborough, vol. vi, p. 127. ↑
28 P. 120. ↑
29 See Rady y Delgado’s reproduction of this Codex, Madrid, 1892. ↑
30 The colours associated with the points of the compass were: East, yellow; north, red; west, blue;
south, white. ↑
31 For the further relation of the gods to time and space see the appendix on the tonalamatl. ↑
32 See myth of the creation of the four supporters, supra. ↑
33 Humming-birds. The warriors seem to have been metamorphosed into the naualli or bird-disguise
of Uitzilopochtli, the humming-bird god of war. ↑
34 Historia de los Mexicanos por sus Pinturas. I believe these different heavens to have resulted
from the clashing and mingling of rival cults. ↑
[Contents]
CHAPTER III
 THE GREAT GODS

[Contents]

METHOD OF TREATMENT

In the section descriptive of the gods, each divinity is dealt with separately. The need
for system and orderly arrangement in the study of Mexican Mythology is clamant. In
the hope that future students of the subject may be spared the Herculean task of
separating the mythology of the Mexican people from their history, I have thought it
best to arrange my material in as systematic a fashion as its complex character
permits.

The plan employed is a simple one. I have prefaced the description of each god with a
table containing the following information concerning him: Area of Worship, Name,
Minor Names, Relationship, Calendar-place, Compass-direction, Symbol, Festivals. In
some cases where, for example, a god has no festival or no minor names, the item
relating to such information is, of course, absent.

The description proper of each deity begins with an account of his Aspect and Insignia,
as observed in the several codices and paintings, manuscripts, vases, or statuary. 1 A
section is devoted to festivals celebrated in his honour, another deals with the
priesthood specially attendant on him, and a further paragraph with the temples in
which he was worshipped. There follows a précis of all known myths relating to him. In
certain instances, too, hymns and prayers offered up to [66]him are quoted. The last
section deals with his nature and status, so far as I have been able to elucidate these.

[Contents]

UITZILOPOCHTLI = “HUMMING-BIRD WIZARD”

Area of Worship: Mexico.

Minor Names:
Tetzateotl—“Terrible God.”
Tetzahuitl—“The Raging.”
Ilhuicatl Xoxouhqui—“The Blue Heaven.”
Mexitli—“Hare of the Maguey.”
Compass Directions: The South; upper region.
Festivals:
Toxcatl, the fifth month; first of tlaxochimaco, the ninth month.
Panquetzaliztli, the fifteenth month.
Movable feast ce tecpatl.
Relationships:
Son of Coatlicue.
Brother of the Centzonuitznaua.
Brother of Coyolxauhqui.
One of the Tzitzimimê.

Uitzilopochtli.

(From Codex Borbonicus, sheet 34.)

 Paynal. “Messenger” of
Uitzilopochtli. Uitzilopochtli (after Duran).

(Sahagun MS.)

UITZILOPOCHTLI.

ASPECT AND INSIGNIA

Face-paint.—Blue and yellow horizontal stripes, the yellow known as piloechinolli

(“face-painting of children”) made of children’s excrement, in allusion, perhaps, to his
character of a young or new-born god. He occasionally wears the stellar mask, 2 like
Mixcoatl and Camaxtli.

Body-paint.—Blue.

Dress.—Usually the humming-bird mantle, pictographic of his name. His head is

surmounted by a panache of feathers. On his breast is a white ring made from a
mussel-shell, like those of Quetzalcoatl, Tezcatlipocâ, and Paynal, which is called
eteocuitlaanauauh (“his golden ring”) or eltezcatl (“his breast mirror”). Perhaps the best
representation of him is in Codex Borbonicus (sheet 34). [67]
Weapons.—Shield (teueuelli), made of reeds, with eagle’s down adhering to it in five
places in the form of a quincunx. He carries spears tipped with tufts of down instead of
stone points (tlauacomalli), the weapons of those doomed to a gladiatorial death, the
fire-snake xiuhcoatl as an atlatl, or spear-thrower, and the bow, which he was
supposed to have invented or introduced into Mexico. The flag held by him on some
occasions represents the panquetzaliztli festival in Codices Telleriano-Remensis and
Vaticanus A.

COYOLXAUHQUI, SISTER OF UITZILOPOCHTLI.

(See p. 324.)

Variations.—He is frequently to be observed wearing the insignia of the stellar gods of

war and hunting (Mixcoatl, Camaxtli).

According to Seler (Commentary on the Codex Vaticanus B, p. 91), Uitzilopochtli

figures in that MS. as showing “in a general way the devices and the dress-badges of
the fire-god,” differing, however, in colour and painting. When found along with
Tezcatlipocâ as Ruler of the Southern Heaven, in Codex Fejérváry-Mayer (sheet 25),
he is seated on a jaguar-skin seat, enveloped in a long robe of a light blue colour, with
balls of downy feathers. He wears the aztaxelli or forked heron-feather ornament on his
head and has the yellow face-paint alluded to above. In the Sahagun MS. (Bib. del
Palacio) he is represented as wearing on his back the “dragon’s head” alluded to in the
text. In the Duran MS. (2 o, plate 2 a), drawn by a European hand, the humming-bird
headdress forms a helmet-mask, and in the Codex Ramirez (Juan de Tobar), in which
the figure is Europeanized almost out of recognition, the same is the case, but the
shield-marking is incorrect, consisting as it does of seven tufts of down instead of five.

Clavigero (tom. ii, pp. 17–19) says of Uitzilopochtli’s insignia: “Upon his head he carried
a beautiful crest, shaped like the beak of a bird, upon his neck a collar shaped like ten
figures of the human heart. His statue was of an enormous size, in the posture of a
man seated on a blue-coloured bench, from the four corners of which issued four
snakes. His forehead was blue, but his face was covered with a golden mask, while
another of the same kind covered [68]the back of his head. In his hand he carried a
large blue, twisted club, in his left a shield in which appeared five balls of feathers
disposed in the form of a cross, and from the upper part of the shield rose a golden flag
with four arrows, which the Mexicans believed to have been sent to them from heaven.
His body was girt with a large golden snake, and adorned with lesser figures of animals
made of gold and precious stones, which ornaments and insignia had each their
peculiar meaning.”

Acosta says of his appearance: “The chiefest idoll of Mexico was, as I have sayde,
Vitziliputzli. It was an image of wood like to a man, set upon a stoole of the coloure of
azure, in a brankard or litter, in every corner was a piece of wood in forme of a
serpent’s head. The stoole signified that he was set in heaven. This idol had all the
forehead azure, and had a band of azure under the nose from one ear to another.
Upon his head he had a rich plume of feathers like to the beak of a small bird, the
which was covered on the top with gold burnished very brown. He had in his left hand a
small target, with the figures of five pineapples made of white feathers set in a cross.
And from above issued forth a crest of gold, and at his sides hee hadde foure dartes,
which (the Mexicaines say) had been sent from heaven which shall be spoken of. In his
right hand he had an azured staff cutte in the fashion of a waving snake. All those
ornaments with the rest hee had, carried his sence as the Mexicaines doe shew.” 3

Solis writes of his aspect as follows: “Opposite … sat Huitzilopochtli, on a throne

supported by a blue globe. From this, supposed to represent the heavens, projected
four staves with serpents’ heads, by which the priests carried the god when he was
brought before the public. The image bore upon its head a bird of wrought plumes,
whose beak and crest were of burnished gold. The feathers expressed horrid cruelty,
and were made still more ghastly by two strips of blue, one on the brow and the other
on the nose. Its [69]right hand leaned, as on a staff, upon a crooked serpent. Upon the
left arm was a buckler bearing five white plums, arranged in the form of a cross, and
the hand grasped four arrows, venerated as heaven-descended.” 4

Herrera says that his idol was a gigantic image of stone, covered with a lawn called
nacar, beset with pearls, precious stones, and pieces of gold. It had for a girdle great
snakes of gold, and a counterfeit visor with eyes of glass. 5

Torquemada writes: “In his right hand a dart or long blue pole, in the left a shield, his
face barred with lines of blue. His forehead was decorated with a tuft of green feathers,
his left leg was lean and feathered, and both thighs and arms were barred with blue.” 6

The Sahagun MS. states that “he wears a panache of yellow parrot feathers stuck
together, and having a bunch of quetzal-feathers at the tip. His espitzalli is over his
forehead. The face or mask is striped in various colours, and the ear-plug is made of
the feathers of the blue cotinga. On his back is the fire-snake dress and on his arm he
has a quetzal-feather. At the back he is girded with a blue net cloth, and his leg is
striped with blue. Bells and shells decorate his feet, and he is shod with sandals of the
type usually worn by persons of high degree. His shield is the teueuelli with a bundle of
arrows without points stuck in it, and in one hand he holds a serpent-staff.”

Sahagun (c. xxii, bk. iv) describes the insignia employed at the god’s festival of ce
tecpatl. These were the quetzalquemitl, or mantle of green quetzal-feathers, the
tozquemitl, the mantle made of the yellow feathers of the toztli, a bird of the parrot
species, the Uitzitzilquemitl, or mantle of humming-bird’s feathers, “and others less
rich.”

FESTIVALS

The first festival of Uitzilopochtli was the tlaxochimaco, of which Sahagun says: “The
ninth month was styled [70]tlaxochimaco. A festival was held on the first day of this
month in honour of Huitzilopochtli, god of war, when he was offered the first flowers of
the year. The night before this festival everybody killed chickens and dogs with which to
make tamalli and other things good to eat. Very soon after the first glimmerings of dawn
on the day of the festival, the attendants of the idols adorned the statue of
Huitzilopochtli with flowers. The images of the other gods were decked with garlands
and wreaths of flowers, and the same was done to all the other idols of the calpulli 7 and
telpochcalli. 8 The calpixque, 9 the principal people, and the macehualli 10 covered the
statues in their houses with flowers. These preparations being completed, the viands
prepared during the previous night were partaken of, and shortly after this repast a
dance was engaged in, in which the nobles mingled with the women, taking them by
the hand, and even going the length of embracing them by placing their arms round
their necks. The usual movements of the areyto 11 were not performed, the dancers
moving step by step, to the strains of the musicians and singers, who stood, some
distance away, at the foot of a round altar called momoztli. They sang thus until night,
not only in the courts of the temples, but also in the houses of people of rank and of the
macehualli, while the aged of both sexes indulged deeply in pulque; but young people
were not permitted to touch it, and anyone allowing them to drink it was severely
punished.”

Toxcatl.—For this festival see under Tezcatlipocâ, to whom it was also and more
especially sacred.

Panquetzalitztli.—The following account of this festival is summarized from Sahagun’s

pages: For twenty-four days prior to the incidence of the festival the priests did
penitence. They hung branches upon the oratories and shrines of the gods of the
mountains, and green reeds and leaves of the maguey-plant. At the end of the
quecholli festival everyone [71]took to dancing and singing, especially to the song or
hymn of Uitzilopochtli. Nine days before the sacrifice those doomed to die bathed in the
fountain called Uitzilotl (humming-bird water) in the village of Uitzilopochco. The old
men went to seek nine bunches of the leaves of the tree called aueuetl (“old one of the
waters”—the Cupressus distica). The faces of the doomed ones were painted in the
colours of the god, yellow and blue in transverse bands, and adorned with his insignia.

After five days of penitential exercises mingled with dancing and singing, and on the
day before the festival, the captives rose with dawn and betook themselves to the
houses of those who had dedicated them to the slaughter, preceded by a man carrying
a vessel full of black ink or red ochre or blue tincture. On arriving at the houses of those
who had devoted them to death, they dipped their hands in the vessel and pressed
them on the gates and the pillars of the dwelling, so that the imprint remained. 12 They
then entered the kitchen of the house and walked several times round the furnace.
Then they marched in procession to the temple, accompanied by porters bearing rich
attire, which the captives donned. The hair was then taken from their heads to be kept
“as a relic.” They were then given cylindrical cakes to eat, which must be held on the
point of a maguey thorn and not between the fingers. With the dawn of day the god
Paynal, the herald of Uitzilopochtli, descended from the temple of Uitzilopochtli. Four
captives were then slain, two in honour of “the god Oappatzan.” Paynal, borne by four
“necromancers,” then took the road to Tlatelolco, whence he passed to Nonoalco, the
priest of the temple there receiving him with the representative of the god Quauitlicac,
“his companion” (see “Myths”). The images were then carried to Tlaxotlan and
Popotlan, where other captives were slain. Then the procession took its way to
Chapultepec, passing the hill of that name and crossing [72]the little river Izquitlan, at
the temple of which other captives called Izquiteca (“who eat roasted maize”) were
sacrificed. They then crossed to the right under Coyoacan, passing by way of
Tepetocan to Acachinanco.

During the time they made this progress the slaves who were about to die engaged in a
skirmish. They divided themselves into two parties, the Uitznauatl (“They of the Thorny
Wizard”), the other unnamed. The former seem to have been professional soldiers
armed with mock weapons; the others slaves, armed with maquahuitls, wooden swords
set with obsidian flakes. On Paynal’s return those who watched them from the summit
of the temple, seeing the banner of the god (epaniztli), cried out, “Mexicans, cease your
strife, the lord Paynal has come.” The warriors in the patrol of Paynal then rushed to
the summit of the temple, where they arrived in a breathless condition. They placed
their idol beside the paste image of Uitzilopochtli. Their ears were pierced by the priest.
They descended again, carrying an image of Uitzilopochtli made of paste, which they
divided, each bearing his own portion to his own house, where he made festival with
his parents and neighbours. A tour of the temple was then made, the captives walking
in front.

A priest then descended from the summit of the temple bearing a sheaf of white papers
in his hand, which he held up to the four cardinal points in turn, afterwards throwing
them into a mortar called quauhxicalco 13 (“cup of the eagles”). He was followed by
another holding a very long pine-torch called xiuhcoatl (“fire-snake”), shaped like fire.
(This was the fire-snake weapon with which one of Uitzilopochtli’s followers had killed
his rebellious sister Coyolxauhqui). This was cast burning into the vessel containing the
papers, which were consumed. Paynal reappeared, and the slaves were sacrificed
according to rank to the sound of conch-shells. All then returned home, where octli of
special strength was drunk, festivities engaged in, and presents of [73]wearing apparel
distributed to friends and dependants (bk. ii, c. 34).

This festival took place at the period of the winter solstice, when the sun has removed
farthest to the south. The burning of the papers by the xiuhcoatl, and the fact that the
fire-festival of the new period of fifty-two years, the making of the new fire, was usually
postponed to coincide with it, show it to be a fire-feast; for in his “avatar” of the sun
Uitzilopochtli was a fire-god.

Torquemada states that the priest of Quetzalcoatl hurled a dart into the breast of the
paste image of Uitzilopochtli, which fell. He then pulled the “heart” out of it, giving it to
the king. The body was then divided among the men, no woman being allowed to eat of
it. The ceremony was called teoqualo, i.e. “god is eaten.” 14

MYTHS
Regarding Uitzilopochtli, Clavigero says: “Huitzilopochtli, or Mexitli, was the god of war;
the deity the most honoured by the Mexicans, and their chief protector. Of this god
some said he was a pure spirit, others that he was born of a woman, but without the
assistance of a man, and described his birth in the following manner: There lived, said
they, in Coatepec, a place near to the ancient city of Tula, a woman called Coatlicue,
mother of the Centzonhuiznahuas, who was extremely devoted to the worship of the
gods. One day, as she was employed, according to her usual custom, in walking in the
temple, she beheld descending in the air a ball made of various feathers. She seized it
and kept it in her bosom, intending afterwards to employ the feathers in decoration of
the altar; but when she wanted it after her walk was at an end she could not find it, at
which she was extremely surprised, and her wonder was very greatly increased when
she began to perceive from that moment that she was pregnant. Her pregnancy
advanced till it was discovered by her children, who, although they could not
themselves suspect their mother’s virtue, yet fearing [74]the disgrace she would suffer
upon her delivery, determined to prevent it by putting her to death. They could not take
their resolution so secretly as to conceal it from their mother, who, while she was in
deep affliction at the thought of dying by the hands of her own children, heard an
unexpected voice issue from her womb, saying, ‘Be not afraid, mother, I shall save you
with the greatest honour to yourself and glory to me.’

“Her hard-hearted sons, guided and encouraged by their sister Cojolxauhqui, who had
been the most keenly bent upon the deed, were now just upon the point of executing
their purpose, when Huitzilopochtli was born, with a shield in his left hand, a spear in
his right, and a crest of green feathers on his head; his left leg adorned with feathers,
and his face, arms, and thighs streaked with blue lines. As soon as he came into the
world he displayed a twisted pine, and commanded one of his soldiers, called
Tochchancalqui, to fell with it Cojolxauhqui, as the one who had been the most guilty;
and he himself attacked the rest with so much fury that, in spite of their efforts, their
arms, or their entreaties, he killed them all, plundered their houses, and presented the
spoils to his mother. Mankind were so terrified by this event, that from that time they
called him Tetzahuitl (terror) and Tetzauhteotl (terrible god).

“This was the god who, as they said, becoming the protector of the Mexicans,
conducted them for so many years in their pilgrimage, and at length settled them where
they afterwards founded the great city of Mexico. They raised to him that superb
temple, so much celebrated, even by the Spaniards, in which were annually holden
three solemn festivals in the fifth, ninth, and fifteenth months; besides those kept every
four years, every thirteen years, and at the beginning of every century. His statue was
of gigantic size, in the posture of a man seated on a blue-coloured bench, from the four
corners of which issued four huge snakes. His forehead was blue, but his face was
covered with a golden mask, while another of the same kind covered the back of his
head. Upon his head he carried a beautiful [75]crest, shaped like the beak of a bird;
upon his neck a collar consisting of ten figures of the human heart; in his right hand a
large blue, twisted club; in his left a shield, on which appeared five balls of feathers
disposed in the form of a cross, and from the upper part of the shield rose a golden flag
with four arrows, which the Mexicans pretended to have been sent to them from
heaven to perform those glorious actions which we have seen in their history. His body
was girt with a large golden snake and adorned with lesser figures of animals made of
gold and precious stones, which ornaments and insignia had each their peculiar
meaning. They never deliberated upon making war without imploring the protection of
this god, with prayers and sacrifices; and offered up a greater number of human victims
to him than to any other of the gods.” 15

Boturini says of this god: “While the Mexicans were pushing their conquests and their
advance toward the country now occupied by them, they had a very renowned captain,
or leader, called Huitziton. He it was that in these long and perilous journeys through
unknown lands, sparing himself no fatigue, took care of the Mexicans. The fable says
of him that, being full of years and wisdom, he was one night caught up in sight of his
army and of all his people, and presented to the god Tezauhteotl, that is to say the
Frightful God, who, being in the shape of a horrible dragon, commanded him to be
seated at his right hand, saying: ‘Welcome, O valiant captain; very grateful am I for thy
fidelity in my service and in governing my people. It is time that thou shouldest rest,
since thou art already old, and since thy great deeds raise thee up to the fellowship of
the immortal gods. Return then to thy sons and tell them not to be afflicted if in future
they cannot see thee as a mortal man; for from the nine heavens thou shalt look down
propitious upon them. And not only that, but also, when I strip the vestments of
humanity from thee, I will leave to thine afflicted and orphan people thy bones and thy
skull so that they may be comforted in their sorrow, and may [76]consult thy relics as to
the road they have to follow: and in due time the land shall be shown them that I have
destined for them, a land in which they shall hold wide empire, being respected of the
other nations.’

“Huitziton did according to these instructions, and after a sorrowful interview with his
people, disappeared, carried away by the gods. The weeping Mexicans remained with
the skull and bones of their beloved captain, which they carried with them till they
arrived in New Spain, and at the place where they built the great city of Tenochtitlan, or
Mexico. All this time the devil spoke to them through this skull of Huitziton, often asking
for the immolation of men and women, from which thing originated those bloody
sacrifices, practised afterwards by this nation with so much cruelty on prisoners of war.
This deity was called, in early as well as in later times, Huitzilopochtli—for the principal
men believed that he was seated at the left hand of Tezcatlipocâ—a name derived from
the original name Huitziton, and from the word mapoche, ‘left hand.’ ” 16
Sahagun says of Uitzilopochtli that, being originally a man, he was a sort of Hercules,
of great strength and warlike, a great destroyer of towns and slayer of men. In war he
had been a living fire, very terrible to his adversaries; and the device he bore was a
dragon’s head, frightful in the extreme, and casting fire out of its mouth. A great wizard
he had been, and sorcerer, transforming himself into the shape of divers birds and
beasts. While he lived, the Mexicans esteemed this man very highly for his strength
and dexterity in war, and when he died they honoured him as a god, offering slaves,
and sacrificing them in his presence. And they looked to it that those slaves were well
fed and well decorated with such ornaments as were in use, with earrings and visors;
all for the greater honour of the god. In Tlaxcala also they had a deity called Camaxtli,
who was similar to this Huitzilopochtli. 17

The myth of Uitzilopochtli, as given by Sahagun, may be condensed as follows: [77]

Under the shadow of the mountain of Coatepec, near the Toltec city of Tollan, there
dwelt a pious widow called Coatlicue, the mother of a tribe of Indians called
Centzonuitznaua, who had a daughter called Coyolxauhqui, and who daily repaired to
a small hill with the intention of offering up prayers to the gods in a penitent spirit of
piety. Whilst occupied in her devotions one day she was surprised by a small ball of
brilliantly coloured feathers falling upon her from on high. She was pleased by the
bright variety of its hues and placed it in her bosom, intending to offer it up to the Sun-
god. Some time afterwards she learnt that she was to become the mother of another
child. Her sons, hearing of this, rained abuse upon her, being incited to humiliate her in
every possible way by their sister Coyolxauhqui.

Coatlicue went about in fear and anxiety; but the spirit of her unborn infant came and
spoke to her and gave her words of encouragement, soothing her troubled heart. Her
sons, however, were resolved to wipe out what they considered an insult to their race
by the death of their mother, and took counsel with one another to slay her. They attired
themselves in their war-gear, and arranged their hair after the manner of warriors going
to battle. But one of their number, Quauitlicac, relented and confessed the perfidy of his
brothers to the still unborn Uitzilopochtli, who replied to him: “O uncle, 18 hearken
attentively to what I have to say to you. I am fully informed of what is going to happen.”
With the intention of slaying their mother, the Indians went in search of her. At their
head marched their sister, Coyolxauhqui. They were armed to the teeth, and carried
bundles of darts, with which they intended to kill the luckless Coatlicue.

Quauitlicac climbed the mountain to acquaint Uitzilopochtli with the news that his
brothers were approaching to kill their mother.

“Mark well where they are at,” replied the infant god. “To what place have they
advanced?” [78]
“To Tzompantitlan,” responded Quauitlicac.

Later on Uitzilopochtli asked: “Where may they be now?”

“At Coaxalco,” was the reply.

Once more Uitzilopochtli asked to what point his enemies had advanced.

“They are now at Petlac,” Quauitlicac replied.

Quauitlicac later informed them that his brothers and sister had arrived at the middle of
the mountain. At the moment they arrived Uitzilopochtli was born, attired in full war
panoply. He ordered one named Tochâncalqui (inhabitant of our house) to attack his
sister with the fire-snake xiuhcoatl, and with a blow he shattered Coyolxauhqui in
pieces. Her head rested upon the mountain of Coatepec. The infant god then pursued
his brethren four times round the mountain. Several fell into the lake and were
drowned. Others he slew, only a few escaped, and these were banished to Uitzlampa
in the south. 19

Torquemada says of Uitzilopochtli: “Huitzilopochtli, the ancient god and guide of the
Mexicans, is a name variously derived. Some say it is composed of two words: huitzilin,
‘a humming-bird,’ and tlahuipuchtli, ‘a sorcerer that spits fire.’ Others say that the
second part of the name comes not from tlahuipuchtli, but from opuchtli, that is, ‘the left
hand’; so that the whole name, Huitzilopochtli, would mean ‘the shining-feathered left
hand.’ For this idol was decorated with rich and resplendent feathers on the left arm.
And this god it was that led out the Mexicans from their own land and brought them into
Anahuac.

“Some held him to be a purely spiritual being, others affirmed that he had been born of
a woman, and related his history after the following fashion: Near the city of Tulla there
is a mountain called Coatepec, that is to say the Mountain of the Snake, where a
woman lived, named Coatlicue or Snake-petticoat. She was the mother of many sons
called Centzunhuitznahua, and of a daughter whose name was Coyolxauhqui.
Coatlicue was very devout and careful in [79]the service of the gods, and she occupied
herself ordinarily in sweeping and cleaning the sacred places of that mountain. It
happened that one day, occupied with these duties, she saw a little ball of feathers
floating down to her through the air, which she taking, as we have already related,
found herself in a short time pregnant.

“Upon this all her children conspired against her to slay her, and came armed against
her, the daughter Coyolxauhqui being the ringleader and most violent of all. Then,
immediately, Huitzilopochtli was born, fully armed, having a shield called teuehueli in
his left hand, in his right a dart, or long blue pole, and all his face barred over with lines
of the same colour. His forehead was decorated with a great tuft of green feathers, his
left leg was lean and feathered, and both thighs and the arms barred with blue. He then
caused to appear a serpent made of torches, teas, called xiuhcoatl; and he ordered a
soldier called Tochaucalqui to light this serpent, and taking it with him to embrace
Coyolxauhqui. From this embrace the matricidal daughter immediately died, and
Huitzilopochtli himself slew all her brethren and took their spoil, enriching his mother
therewith. After this he was surnamed Tetzahuitl, that is to say Fright, or Amazement,
and held as a god, born of a mother without a father—as the great god of battles, for in
these his worshippers found him very favourable to them.” 20

“Historia de los Mexicanos por sus Pinturas.” 21—Collecting and summarizing the
scattered notices regarding Uitzilopochtli in the above-named work, we find it stated
that he was the fourth and youngest son of Tonacatecutli and Tonacaciuatl, his elder
brothers being the Red Tezcatlipocâ, the Black Tezcatlipocâ, and Quetzalcoatl.
Uitzilopochtli is here also called Omitecatl, “and for another name Magueycoatl (Snake
of the Maguey). He was called Ochilobos (the Spanish rendering of Uitzilopochtli)
because he was left-handed and was chief god to those of Mexico and their god of war.
He was born without flesh but with bones, and thus he remained six hundred years, in
which nothing [80]was made, ‘neither the gods nor their father.’ Taking counsel with
Quetzalcoatl, they fashioned the sun, then they made a man, Oxomoco, and a woman,
Cipactonal, commanding him to till the earth and her to spin and weave, and created
other things.”

HYMNS

In the Sahagun MS. the following hymns or songs relate to Uitzilopochtli:—

THE SONG OF UITZILOPOCHTLI

Uitzilopochtli the warrior, no one is my equal;

Not in vain have I put on the vestment of yellow feathers,
For through me the sun has risen (i.e. the time of sacrifice appears).

II
 The man out of the cold land knew (through him) a baneful omen.
He had taken a foot from the man out of the cold land.

III

In the place of Tlaxotlan, the feathers were distributed

With which the war chieftains stuck themselves.
My God is named Tepanquizqui (“He who overcomes the people”).

IV

He makes himself feared, the god of Tlaxotlan,

Dust whirls upon the God of Tlaxotlan,
Dust whirls upon him.

Our enemies, the people from Amantlan, assemble; meet me there.

So will in their own house the enemy be. Meet me there.

VI

Our enemies the people of Pipitlan assemble; meet me there.

So will in their own house the enemy be.

This song is probably a chant sung before sacrifice to the god. The line “He had taken
a foot from the man out of the cold land” seems to allude to the maiming of one of the
gods by Uitzilopochtli, or is symbolic of the punishment of a human enemy by rendering
him unfit for war through the [81]amputation of one of his feet. Tezcatlipocâ, one of
whose names was Yaotzin, “the enemy,” is frequently represented as having but one
foot, and the phrase “the man from the cold land,” i.e. the North, applies almost
certainly to him. The rest of the song relates to the peoples with whom the Mexicans
were frequently at war.

SONG OF THE SHIELD

 I

In his shield of the young wife the great warrior chieftain was born.
In his shield of the young wife (or maid) the great warrior chieftain was born.

II

He who gained his heroic title on the serpent mountain

In his (warrior) face-painting, (and with the shield) teueuelli.
No one in truth rises.
The earth quakes
As he put on his (warrior) face-painting (and his shield) teueuelli.

The first couplet is obscure to me, and seems to refer to a lost myth, which perhaps
stated that the god was born of a virgin. The second strophe, of course, relates to the
slaughter by Uitzilopochtli of his brothers the Centzonuitznaua.

PRIESTHOOD

The high priest of Uitzilopochtli was called Totec tlamacazque, who also bore the name
of Quetzalcoatl (an honorary title, originating out of the belief that the god of that name
was regarded as the prototype of all religious orders), and who, along with the Tlaloc
tlamacazque, occupied the chief religious office in Mexico. He was selected for his
piety and general fitness. 22

TEMPLE

Acosta describes Uitzilopochtli’s great temple at Mexico as follows: “There was in

Mexico this Cu, the famous Temple of Vitziliputzli, it had a very great circuite, and within
a faire Court. It was built of great stones, in fashion [82]of snakes tied one to another,
and the circuite was called Coatepantli, which is, a circuite of snakes: vppon the toppe
of every chamber and oratorie where the Idolls were, was a fine piller wrought with
small stones, blacke as ieate, set in goodly order, the ground raised vp with white and
red, which below gave a great light. Vpon the top of the pillar were battlements very
artificially made, wrought like snailes (caracoles), supported by two Indians of stone,
sitting, holding candlesticks in their hands, the which were like Croisants garnished and
enriched at the ends, with yellow and greene feathers and long fringes of the same.
Within the circuite of this court there were many chambers of religious men, and others
that were appointed for the service of the Priests and Popes, for so they call the
soveraigne Priests which serve the Idoll.

“There were foure gates or entries, at the east, west, north, and south; at every one of
these gates beganne a fair cawsey of two or three leagues long. There was in the
midst of the lake where the citie of Mexico is built, four large cawseies in crosse, which
did much to beautify it; vpon every portall or entry was a God or Idoll having the visage
turned to the causey, right against the Temple gate of Vitziliputzli. There were thirtie
steppes of thirtie fadome long, and they divided from the circuit of the court by a streete
that went betwixt them; vpon the toppe of these steppes there was a walke thirtie foote
broad, all plaistered with chalke, in the midst of which walke was a Palisado artificially
made of very high trees, planted in order a fadome one from another. These trees were
very bigge, and all pierced with small holes from the foote to the top, and there were
roddes did runne from one tree to another, to the which were chained or tied many
dead mens heades. Vpon every rod were twentie sculles, and these ranckes of sculles
continue from the foote to the toppe of the tree. This Palisado was full of dead mens
sculls from one end to the other, the which was a wonderfull mournefull sight and full of
horror. These were the heads of such as had beene sacrificed; for after they were dead
and had eaten the flesh, the head was [83]delivered to the Ministers of the Temple,
which tied them in this sort vntil they fell off by morcells; and then had they a care to set
others in their places. Vpon the toppe of the temple were two stones or chappells, and
in them were the two Idolls which I have spoken of, Vitziliputzli, and his companion
Tlaloc. These Chappells were carved and graven very artificially, and so high, that to
ascend vp to it, there was a staire of stone of sixscore steppes. Before these
Chambers or Chappells, there was a Court of fortie foot square, in the midst thereof,
was a high stone of five hand breadth, poynted in fashion of a Pyramide, it was placed
there for the sacrificing of men; for being laid on their backes, it made their bodies to
bend, and so they did open them and pull out their hearts, as I shall shew heereafter.” 23

NATURE AND STATUS

Prolonged deliberation upon the nature of Uitzilopochtli has led me to the conclusion
that he was originally a personification of the maguey-plant (Agave americana). The
grounds upon which I base this hypothesis are as follows: A certain variety of the
maguey-plant, or metl, was known to the Aztecâ of Mexico-Tenochtitlan as Uitzitzilteutli,
or “beak of the humming-bird,” probably because of the resemblance the long spiky
thorns (uitztli) with which it is covered bear to the sharp beak of that bird (the uitzitzilin),
which suspends its tiny, web-like nest from the leaves of the plant in question. The
connection of Uitzilopochtli with the maguey-plant is also proved by at least two of his
subsidiary titles. Thus in the Historia de los Mexicanos por sus Pinturas 24 he is alluded
to as Magueycoatl, “Serpent of the Maguey,” and he was also known as Mexitli, or
“Hare of the Maguey,” a title from which one of the quarters of Tenochtitlan, and later
the entire city, took its name of Mexico. At the panquetzaliztli festival held in his honour,
the warriors who skirmished on his side in mimicry of his combat with the
[84]Centzonuitznaua were said to take the part of Uitznauatl, 25 or “Thorn that speaks
oracularly.” In certain of the place-names which are hieroglyphically figured in the
codices, too, the element of his name is depicted as a maguey-plant. Sahagun further
states that the proprietors of the maguey plantations and the publicans who sold octli or
pulque cut their plants so that they might yield their juice during the sign ce tecpatl, the
movable feast of Uitzilopochtli, in the belief that, were they tapped at this time, they
would yield abundantly. 26

Etymologically, there is good evidence that Uitzilopochtli originally represented the

maguey. The word uitztli means “thorn,” and appears in such compounds as
Uitzlampa, “Place of Thorns” (the South), and Uitznauatl, “The Thorn that speaks,”
which, as we have seen, was another, and probably an older, title of the god. Uitzoctli,
too, as Seler has indicated, 27 means “pricking pulque,” newly fermented octli. It would
seem, then, that the name Uitzilopochtli, until now generally translated as “Humming-
bird-to-the-left,” and rendered by Seler “Humming-bird of the South,” must possess
another significance for us. Opochtli certainly means both “south” and “left,” but it also
means “wizard,” as in the compound tlahuipuchtli, “wizard who spits fire,” instanced by
Torquemada, 28 who states that some persons derived the god’s name from that word,
combined with uitzilinin, “a humming-bird.” 29 It is easy to see how the god came to be
associated with the humming-bird, which suspends its nest from the foliage of the
maguey. It [85]would appear to the Mexicans to emerge from the leaves of that plant,
and would come to be regarded as the form which the maguey-spirit took. Indeed, the
humming-bird dress or disguise is that in which Uitzilopochtli is almost invariably
represented in the codices. It was in the shape of a humming-bird that the god was
said to have led the Aztecâ from their ancient home to the Valley of Anahuac, and his
flights would probably be considered ominous and suggestive to augurs, like those of
the Latin Picus. But it is possible that a certain degree of confusion arose between the
elements uitzilinin (humming-bird) and uitztli (thorn), that this assisted the belief that he
took the shape of a humming-bird and that the explanatory myth of the hero-god
Uitziton refers to this bird in an anthropomorphic shape.

These facts lead me to infer that the name implies “Humming-bird Wizard,” for
Uitzilopochtli was, as Sahagun says, 30 “a necromancer and friend of disguises,” and
wizards are universally conceived of as “sinister,” which English word means both “on
the left hand” and “inauspicious,” and “malign,” as does the Latin word from which it is
derived. The same holds good of the Mexican word. The sub-titles of the god,
Uitznauatl and Magueycoatl, show—the first, that the ideas of sorcery and oracular
speech were connected with him; and the second, that he was of a serpentine or
venomous disposition, like the liquor distilled from the plant over which he presided, the
intoxicating qualities of which were regarded as inducing prophetic inspiration.

That the maguey-plant entered into Uitzilopochtli’s insignia seems probable from the
circumstance that at his festival in the month toxcatl his dough image was surmounted
by a flint knife half covered with blood. 31 In the codices the sacrificial stone knife is
frequently depicted as growing in plant-like bundles out of the ground, this artistic and
conventional form bearing a close resemblance to the maguey plant, with the spines of
which the Mexican priests pierced their tongues and ears to procure a blood-offering.

His primary character notwithstanding, Uitzilopochtli in [86]later times came to possess

a very different significance for the Mexicans of Tenochtitlan—such a significance, in
short, as the development of their religious conceptions demanded. Thus we find him at
the period of the Spanish Conquest possessing solar characteristics and a place in the
Mexican pantheon which, if not the most important, had essentially the greatest local
significance in the city of Tenochtitlan, of which he was the tutelary god. His status in
the days of the second Motecuhzoma is, perhaps, most clearly illustrated by the
circumstances of his myth as given by Sahagun, which is obviously ætiological and
exhibits the influences both of priestly contrivance and popular imagination. His mother,
Coatlicue, has been elsewhere in this work identified with the earth, but in the myth is
euhemerized as a pious widow. That she was originally one of those mountain
goddesses, like Xochiquetzal, from whose sacred heights the rain descended to the
parched fields of Mexico, seems plain from the name of her abode, Coatepetl (“Serpent
Mountain”), the serpents of which her skirt is composed, being symbolical, perhaps, of
the numerous streams flowing from the tarns or pools situated on its lower acclivities.
That such a mountain actually existed in the vicinity of Tollan is proved by the
statement of Sahagun. Uitzilopochtli is the sun which rises out of the mountain, 32 or is
born from it, fully armed with the xiuhcoatl, or fire-snake (the red dawn), with which he
slays his sister Coyolxauhqui, the moon, whose lunar attributes are clearly defined in
her face-painting, which comprises half-moons and a shell-motif, a lunar symbol. Her
nose-plate is also the half-moon symbol. The Centzonuitznaua, or “Four Hundred
Southerners,” are the stars of the Southern Hemisphere. These the new-born god puts
to flight with ease. 33 If further verification of what is obviously [87]a most artificial and
operose myth is required, it is only necessary to indicate that one of the subsidiary
names of Uitzilopochtli, as recorded by Sahagun, was Ilhuicatl Xoxouhqui, “The Blue
Heaven,” the expanse of the sky, showing that, like many another sun-god, he typified
the blue vault of heaven. 34 Acosta, too, states that the azure colour of his throne
signified “that he sat in the heavens.” 35 But the myth possesses an allegorical as well
as an ætiological character. Thus Coatlicue, the earth, is fructified by the ball of
humming-birds’ feathers, that is, by the humming-bird itself, which, in Mexico, is the
means of fructifying the plants, its movements causing the transfer of the pollen from
the stamens to the germ-cells.

How, then, may we reconcile the primitive fetish of the maguey-plant with the later solar
deity? In my view the course of development of the concept of Uitzilopochtli is much
the same as that of the Hellenic god Apollo, who, originally a spirit of the apple-tree, 36
came in like manner [88]to be regarded as the god of the sun. But, to adhere to the
Mexican concept, the sun was regarded by the peoples of Anahuac as the great eater
of hearts and drinker of blood. These must be obtained for him by war, or he would
perish, and all creation along with him. Uitzilopochtli, as the spirit of the maguey-plant,
was the tribal fetish of the Aztecâ, and therefore their natural leader in battle. The
connection is obvious and does not require to be laboured. Because of his tribal
leadership in war, a governance of which Mexican myth and history bear eloquent
testimony, he became confounded with the luminary which demanded blood and lived
by human strife.

The solar connection of the octli liquor yielded by his plant is also most clear. Says
Duran 37: “The octli was a favourite offering to the gods, and especially to the god of fire.
Sometimes it was placed before a fire in vases; sometimes it was scattered upon the
flames with a brush (aspergillum?); at other times it was poured out around the fire-
place.” Fire is, of course, a surrogate of the sun, and Seler has already identified
Uitzilopochtli as a fire-god in virtue of his status as a sun-deity, 38 showing that the
drilling of the solar fire before the beginning of the new cycle of fifty-two years was
deferred until the panquetzalitztli, the great feast of Uitzilopochtli. Jacinto de la Serna,
too, says that the octli ritual invoked the “shining Rose; light-giving Rose, to receive
and rejoice my heart before the god.” The “rose,” of course, referring to the fire or sun.
It would seem, however, that before he became confounded or identified with the sun,
Uitzilopochtli may have possessed a lunar significance, and this may have obtained in
the period while yet the calendar was reckoned upon a lunar basis and its solar
connection still remained undefined. The name Mexitli, which has already been
remarked upon, and which means “Hare of the Maguey” appears to place Uitzilopochtli
upon a level with the other gods of octli, if not to class him as one of these. It bears a
suspicious [89]resemblance, too, to the name of the Moon-god, Metztli. The hare or
rabbit in Mexico was invariably associated both with the moon and the octli-gods,
whose chief characteristic, perhaps, is the lunar nose-plate. But among many of the
native tribes of North America the hare or rabbit is the representative of the sun or the
dawn, under the names of Michabo, Manibozho, Wabos, and so forth, being described
in myth as a warrior, hero-god and culture-bringer. Perhaps the Nahua, while still in a
more northern region where the agave was unknown to them, worshipped the rabbit of
the sun or moon, and on establishing themselves in a region where the maguey was
one of the salient features in the landscape, fused his myth with that of a newly-
acquired fetish, discarding later the more ancient belief, or retaining but a confused
memory of it. But this train of reasoning lacks evidence to support it. Nor need the
consideration of Uitzilopochtli’s serpent-form detain us long. I think I see in the myth
which recounts how the Aztecâ, on settling in Tenochtitlan, beheld an eagle perched on
a cactus with a serpent in its talons, some relation to Uitzilopochtli, but what it precisely
portends is still obscure to me. In any case the symbol of the eagle enters into his
insignia, as does that of the serpent. We will recall that he was known as
Magueycoatl, 39 “Serpent of the Maguey.” Again the solar character of the serpent in
America, as elsewhere, readily accounts for his later connection with it, and for the
prevalence of serpentine forms in his insignia and temple. But I confess that these two
points of contact with the serpent do not altogether satisfy me as regards the god’s
connection with it, nor does the fact of the serpentine character of his mother commend
itself to me as altogether explanatory of this, and I think we must look to Uitzilopochtli’s
nature as a wizard or sorcerer to enlighten us upon this point. Jacinto de la Serna 40
states that in his time some of the Mexican conjurers used a wand around which was
fastened a living [90]serpent, in much the same way as the priests of the Pueblo Indians
do at the present day; and as the great invisible medicine man of the tribe,
Uitzilopochtli may have been thought of as doing the same. “Who is a manito?” asks
the Meda chant of the Algonquins. “He,” is the reply, “who walketh with a serpent, he is
a manito.” For the connection of the Indian magicians with the serpent the reader is
referred to the pages of Brinton. 41

In many lands the serpent is the symbol of reproductive power and has a phallic
significance. In Mexico he casts his winter skin near the time of Uitzilopochtli’s first
festival, about the beginning of the rainy season. Moreover, this reptile is connected
with soothsaying, and in this respect resembles the god.

His myths, as well as his status in Mexico-Tenochtitlan, of which he was the tutelary
deity, make it plain that Uitzilopochtli was a tribal god of the Aztecâ, their national god
par excellence. The brave Quauhtemoc, the last native defender of the city, imagined
himself invincible when armed with the bow and arrows of Uitzilopochtli, and we know
that the advice of the oracle of that deity was sought by the Mexicans when hard
pressed by the Conquistadores.

Nor is there any dubiety regarding his character as a god of war. This may have arisen
from the circumstance that he presided over the liquor which was given to the troops
when about to engage in battle, or, as has been said, may have followed his promotion
to the rank of sun-god, the deity of human sacrifice, the god who demanded human
hearts and blood. A larger number of captives were devoted to him than to any other
divinity, and as the waging of war was the only means by which so many victims might
be procured, the sun would naturally become the great patron of strife.
As the sun is the great central cause of all agricultural success, so Uitzilopochtli came
to be looked upon as one of the promoters of plant growth, as is witnessed by his
festivals, which synchronize with the first rainfall of the year, the [91]growth of plant life,
and the end of the fruitful season, when, in the form of a paste image, the god was
slain. He is thus the sun of the season of plenty, as his “brother” Tezcatlipocâ
represents that of sereness and drought. He is the “young warrior” of the South, who
drives away the evil spirits of the dry season and causes the land to rejoice.

[Contents]

TEZCATLIPOCÂ = “FIERY MIRROR”

Area of Worship: Nahua territory generally, with extension into Central America
(as Hurakan).
Minor Names:
Titlacahuan—“He whose slaves we are.”
Yaotl—“Enemy.”
Yaomauitl—“Dreaded Enemy.”
Chico Yaotl—“Enemy on one side.”
Necoc Yaotl—“Enemy on both sides.”
Moyocoyotzin—“Capricious Lord.”
Uitznahuac Yaotl—“Warrior in the Southern House or Temple.”
Tlacochcalco Yaotl—“Warrior in the (Northern) Spear House.”
Telpochtli—“The Youth.”
Neçaualpilli—“Fasting Lord.”
Itztli—“Obsidian.”
Festivals: Toxcatl, teotleco, and the movable feasts ce miquiztli, ce malinalli, and
ome coatl.
Compass Directions: North and south in different aspects. Guardian of the fifth
quarter, “the below and above.”
Calendar Place: Ruler of the 18th day, tecpatl; ruler of the second tonalamatl
quarter, the region of the north; as Itztli, second of the nine lords of the night; ruler
of the 13th day-count acatl.
Symbol: The smoking or fiery mirror; the obsidian knife.

ASPECT AND INSIGNIA

Codex Borgia.—By far the best representation of Tezcatlipocâ in any of the
manuscripts is that to be found on page 17 of Codex Borgia, where he is seen in
connection with the insignia of the twenty calendric days. The picture on the lower right
portion of page 21 is without these symbols, but is almost identical with the former
figure. The god wears the black body-paint of a priest, and his face-painting is similar to
that of Uitzilopochtli, that is, it consists of [92]black horizontal stripes upon a yellow
ground, the latter having the same origin as in the case of Uitzilopochtli. From his back
rises a very large and elaborate bunch of feather plumes, which arches itself over his
head. His hair, dressed in a manner which resembles the “night-hair” of Mictlantecutli,
is ornamented with feather-balls as indicating his sacrificial character, and in the picture
on page 21 several of these depend from his side-locks. He wears the white ring
(anauatl) on his breast, and a short tunic, seemingly covered with stellar devices. His
right foot ends in the smoking mirror symbolic of his name and in which he was
supposed to observe the actions of humanity, and on page 21 he carries the jaguar-
skin purse in which the priests placed copal for incense. In his left hand he holds a
shield, the field of which is a tawny yellow in colour, traversed by two white stripes, and
a paper banner. On page 3 the god is shown in a springing attitude. He wears the face
and body-paint characteristic of him, and the warrior’s headdress, with hair tousled on
one side, and the blue nasal rod, with square plaque, falling over the mouth. At the side
of the head is the fiery mirror which gives him his name. On page 14 he is seen
wearing on his breast, and fastened to two strong red leather straps, the white ring
teocuitlaanauatl, an ornament resembling a large, round eye. On his back is a feather
device known as the “quetzal feather-pot.” The right foot, as in other pictures of him, is
replaced by a small fiery mirror and his left by an obsidian knife.

THE RED AND BLACK TEZCATLIPOCÂS.

(Codex Borgia, sheet 21.)

Codex Borbonicus.—In this manuscript Tezcatlipocâ is depicted with the yellow-and-

black face-painting, but in his form as a black god. At his forehead is the smoking
mirror, on his back the large quetzal-feather ornament with a banner, on his breast the
anauatl, and round his loins the hip-cloth, with a bordering of red eyes. On his feet he