White Star (Wolves of West Valley Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Book 1: The Missing Queen

  Book 2: The Ripple Effect

  Book 3: The Lost Tiro

  Book 4: The Last Journey

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  WARNING: This eBook contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language. It may be considered offensive to some readers. This eBook is for sale to adults ONLY.

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  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

  White Star

  Wolves of West Valley | Book 1

  Sarah J. Stone

  Contents

  Wolves of West Valley

  Extras

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  White Star

  Chapter 1

  Flying was always the worst part of her job.

  Willow leaned her head against the tiny cabin window and, for the eightieth time since she had become airborne, willed herself to fall asleep. Her breath gathered on the glass, letting the vast forest beneath the jet look covered in fog. The town was so small they didn't even have full planes that made the trip out. She was stuck on a twenty-passenger jet, cramped and feeling more and more claustrophobic.

  She had a good job; she knew that.

  It was easy enough: just go to a resort, let them know she was there to review it, and then sit back and enjoy the special treatment she'd receive. She was always honest in her reviews, always clear in her experience…always bored.

  Soft towels and charcoal skin cleanses weren't what she went to school for. It was nice to feel pampered, nice to be allowed to enjoy the finer things, but it left her not knowing anything but spas. Not getting to really lavish in the treatments since she hadn't worked hard to earn them.

  She wanted to use her brain.

  Usually.

  At the moment, though, she was trying her hardest to shut it off.

  A child in the row behind her had the volume on his phone up while he was playing games. The old woman in the seat beside her was going on about how she wanted to go to the casino because she hadn't been to one in thirty years. The flight attendants in the galley a few rows back kept laughing and joking while ducking back there between drink refill trips.

  It was killing her.

  Willow pulled her sleep mask out of her bag and slid it over her eyes, making a mental note to pack earplugs next time. She made lists to make sleep come more easily. Sometimes it worked, other times it left her with a complete mental list of every city she'd ever been to, and nothing to do with that information.

  She had to review at least ten parts of the hotel and spa, had to interview the owner and one 'randomly selected employee' (which was usually hand chosen by the owner), and had to take a set of photos herself to show off.

  She started trying to think of catchy lines to go with the town's name – puns usually had the best response. Useless options filled in one after another, and finally her brain started to slow down and stutter. Her eyes relaxed behind the soft black cover of the sleep mask. Her breath slowed.

  Sleep began to sweep over her like a warm blanket.

  "Hello again, Ladies and Gentlemen. We're now preparing for our landing," the captain interrupted through the small jet's speaker system.

  Of course.

  Willow sighed, only slightly embarrassed that she was upset for going to a spa. Only she'd get upset over getting to live a pampered life and be paid to do it.

  Removing her mask, she stared down the window over the small speck of a town they were approaching. The town spread out in a circle beneath them, like the trunk of an ancient tree split open beneath her.

  Suddenly, she wasn't tired.

  Suddenly, she wasn't restless.

  Her heart sped just at the view of the town, something she didn't expect. Just setting eyes on it felt right to her, looked right to her. Willow shoved her mask and half-read book into her bag and tensed up as the wheels of the plane finally touched down.

  "We've now landed in West Valley. Welcome back to those that are from here. If this is your first time, we hope you'll enjoy your stay here."

  ***

  West Valley looked and felt like the kind of town that only existed for tourists. The air was just starting to thaw from the long winter, and travel season reared its ugly head. Three main roads built up the busiest parts of the town. On them was every important building – police station and town official's offices, and also every store imaginable. Housing and apartments radiated around these streets like a spiral.

  Her ride-share apps left her empty handed, and so instead she was in the back of a local taxi. The advertisement and number for the cab company were hand painted on the door. If she had come across this car in a city she wouldn't even look in its general direction, much less get in it and pay to go anywhere. The inside had the cloying stench of too many different air fresheners used over the years. It left the air almost chalky.

  She asked for the scenic route because despite her disgust at the ride, something about the town was calling her, and she wanted to know what.

  The town was disappointing, though.

  Almost half of the shops weren't open yet, their owners probably out of town from the harsh cold. West Valley was just on the line of too-much kitsch, where playful quirkiness collided with being a tacky eyesore.

  Wolf and rabbit sculptures decorated the town, made of wood or metal, their eyes all painted a similar green to the deep forests that surrounded the town. The rabbit sculptures were almost always being eaten, laying the reality of nature out in the open.

  A couple of the sculptures were too much, too creepy, and Willow had to beg to ask her driver to stop so she could snag photos of them. It wasn't anything she could use in her review of the resort, but something about them held her attention. Not many towns or cities laid out the brutality of nature so plainly in view for everyone.

  Finally, they made their way to her destination, the cab driver not seeming to mind that she was taking up so much of his time. The spa and hotel were in the center of the town, nestled right next to an expansive, black lake. The water looked like a large, polished stone.

  "Thank you," Willow said as she nodded to the cab driver and he handed over her bags. She tipped him, feeling guilty for making him stop ever
y couple of miles, and prepared herself.

  It was always the same.

  In order to get a good review, resorts would treat her like royalty. They'd say they treat every guest the same way as they usher her to the front of the line ahead of the others. It left her feeling pampered, but still a bit sleazy for not knowing how regular guests were treated. She could never give a completely honest review.

  Willow pulled out her phone and took a couple pictures of the resort itself, with its shimmering glass and red stone. It didn't fit the rest of the folksy town. It was modern and sleek, and stuck out like a sore thumb.

  "Miss Royd! We were hoping to pick you up at the airport. I'm so sorry," a short older man bumbled out, apologizing. He looked sweaty and flustered. "I'm Leon Edwin. I own The Grand West," he explained, motioning to the resort.

  "Nice to meet you. You can call me Willow," she replied without thought. He offered his hand to her, and she unwillingly took it and shook. His fingers were greasy, she couldn't help but wonder what he was stressing about. Usually, the owners weren't so flustered when they'd meet her.

  "Is there a problem?" she couldn't help a slight smile that traced across her lips.

  "Oh, no," he said, shaking his head and smoothing out his shirt. "I had been working out and took the stairs down from the fourth floor is all," he answered. His words felt like a lie, but Willow didn't question him any further. "Can I take you on a tour of The Grand West once you're settled?" he asked. Willow was starting to wonder if he used the resort's full name every time he referred to it. A walking-talking billboard.

  "I'd love that."

  "Good, good. Come in and we'll get you your room first then," he said briskly, holding open the door for her.

  As slimy and sweaty of a man as Leon was, the resort was gorgeous.

  By the time he'd shown her around and offered her a drink four times, Willow was glad to be free of him. She collapsed back on her bed and sighed. This wasn't a real job. This wasn't journalism. She'd rather be an editor for the site instead, able to at least oversee projects than have to be flirted with by business owners dying for a good review.

  The resort had seemed empty, though, so she could see why they were desperate to impress. She'd only seen six employees, and each seemed stressed and overworked. It was a bit of a drawback to see what cost her relaxation was on other people.

  Pulling out her laptop, Willow pulled up a couple local news sites, dying for anything of interest she could do outside of the resort. She wasn't going to spend her entire week being followed around by a sweaty older man.

  She needed something new.

  Chapter 2

  He was dead.

  He was fucking dead, and there was nothing that could be done about it. The fifth in the last year, and the last of the Lycaon line that was in West Valley.

  Carter slammed the door of his car closed and stared angrily through the windshield. What good was he anymore? Along with his brother, his job was to protect the ruling line and to make sure they could properly lead the pack to prosperity.

  The Pack.

  It didn't even have a proper name anymore. It had gone through a new one with each Alpha, and now lay nameless. Not that any of the names got to stick for long. They'd pass on the title of Alpha to the next in line, and then that one would vanish like the others had.

  Carter almost began to hope that it was because of the Alphas being cowards. He imagined them running off to join or start another pack, somewhere safer for them, where they wouldn't have to fear being taken away. At least that would free him from the guilt of knowing he'd failed again.

  He knew better.

  When an Alpha is alive in an area, you know it.

  Their smell is distinct, traced back thousands of years, to a table that had nothing but deceit on it. Any other shifter, as wolf-like and as true to their nature as they could be, was just a diluted substitute.

  If you weren't from the Lycaon line you couldn't be an Alpha.

  Not that many of the Alphas out there anymore deserved the title.

  Carter's hands tightened their grip on his steering wheel out of guilt at the thought. It didn't matter who deserved to be an Alpha – nobody really did.

  The bloodline declared the ruler, and had done so for too many generations to count.

  There was no changing it.

  He turned the key in the ignition, firing up his car and forcing him to go to work. He wasn't looking forward to today.

  Every wolf in the pack took yesterday off to mourn.

  A year before, hell even six months before, they had taken a week off when an Alpha died. Some would take an entire month off, the grief too striking.

  Now it was commonplace.

  The shifters couldn't afford to leave their job as often as the Alphas kept dying off…or rather, vanishing.

  The forest pulled past him in a blur, and he wished he was still in it. He wished he didn't have to face the world like this, knowing his failure.

  Carter had to work, had to have a job. It wasn't his fault he couldn't be at the Alpha's side every minute of every day. He needed to be able to eat, to survive, and he didn't want to have to rely on the pack for those.

  When his brother was around, it was easier. They could split shifts, each taking watch while the other would work or sleep. They were like night and day and stayed in sync.

  Since Richard vanished with the first Alpha, Carter had lost any semblance of balance in his life. Losing a twin was worse than any other feeling in the world. Worse than losing every limb or watching your own death in slow motion. It was like having more than half of your being cleaved away from you, like losing everything you recognize as yourself.

  It didn't matter that no body was found or that there was no trace of what happened. He knew his brother was dead the moment it happened.

  Carter lost all of the family he had outside of the pack and the pack's Alpha, all in just a couple minutes.

  It wasn't even Richard's shift.

  He was covering for Carter so that he could pick up an extra shift at the casino he had worked at. Even outside of the pack all they did was guard duties, keeping an eye on the whole town, business by business.

  West Valley came into view ahead of him, and Carter slowed down, only just realizing he was going almost twenty miles over the speed limit. He gritted his teeth impatiently, frustrated with himself for getting lost in his thoughts again.

  He failed again.

  His pack would probably have him booted out of it, probably make him leave for letting another leader vanish. His friend, James, was the only reason he hadn't been kicked out yet. They'd been friends since childhood and always watched out for each other, but he wasn't sure James could watch out for him much longer.

  Pulling up to the resort, Carter parked and took a deep breath. He could get through another shift like he always did. He could get through this one, and the next, and then another. He wasn't going to give up; Richard wouldn't ever forgive him if he did.

  He'd keep going for his brother.

  Carter got out and straightened out his uniform, wishing he could just be running around in his proper wolf form instead.

  The resort was a recent and unwelcome development. Five years ago, when they heard ten older businesses had been bought out, everyone immediately started gossiping. Ideas swarmed of a government base. Some said it would be a strip mall. Others had the idea that maybe it was going to be demolished for a park.

  Nope.

  Just a huge, empty, ludicrous, building to pamper all of the tourists that never came.

  West Valley was an empty town that cost too much to fly in or out of. Putting a destination resort in a town where no one would think to visit even before it was constructed was a horrible idea.

  It opened up jobs, allowed the town to work, but was a giant eyesore.

  Carter's phone vibrated, and he looked down at it expectantly.

  "EMPLOYEE MEETING
IN THIRTY MINUTES. BE THERE OR YOU'RE FIRED!"

  It was a mass text sent out to all of the employees of The Grand West. Carter cringed and shoved his phone back in his pocket. He hoped nobody was mourning more than just the first day. Nobody could really afford to lose work anymore. Living was expensive enough as it was. Jobs were limited, and times were rough.

  When his brother was killed, Carter missed two weeks of work at first, went back one day, and then couldn't go back for another month. He drank himself into a hole and lost his job at the casino. He was lucky the resort picked him up as quickly as it did. He wasn't even sure why they hired security guards.

  Maybe to make their guests think the resort was better than it was.

  Probably.

  Carter slid his card and went in through the side door, not excited.

  ***

  The meeting was hell.

  Almost three-fourths of the staff were part of his pack. There were only eighty employees in the entire resort, so they'd apparently been hit hard.

  Edwin, the owner, was a pimple.

  He was a loud, angry little man that everyone hated. One of those short men who work extra, trying to make everyone think highly of them, even though nobody thinks less of them for their height. They thought less of him for how shitty he treated everyone.

  "We have a reviewer here to do a write up on us, and I! NEED! YOU! TO! ACT! LIKE! YOU! KNOW! WHAT! YOU'RE! HERE! TO! DO!" he was shouting, punctuating those last words by slamming his open palms on the table in front of him. Carter felt a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. If this little, wrinkly toad even knew what kind of people he was yelling at, he'd probably shut up real quick.

  As it was, they couldn't exactly chase him out of town.

  They couldn't reveal themselves.

  If people knew about shifters there would be mass panic. Of course, they would. Imagine knowing that the person sitting next to you spent their weekends roaming around as the thing you've been taught since childhood to fear most.