The Culling: A Thrilling Vampire & Wolf Shifter Romance (Seismic Shift Book Two): Seismic Shift, #2

By Lara Norman

When the tenuous peace between the pack and the coven is put to the test by Ash and Farryn's relationship, the cost is their separation. 

 

It becomes a time when friendships are forged and broken, a time when discoveries of long-held secrets meant to hide indiscretions are brought forth. Just how much should a couple be asked to pay to love one another?

 

And will the secret legends end up destroying them all?

 

This is book two in a *serial*. This means that all of the books follow a story arc and cannot be read alone or out of order without confusion.

• Language: English
• Publisher: LPN Publishing
• Release date: Aug 30, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393932659

Lara Norman

Lara used to scribble her fictional characters down on legal pads in high school, and then not show them to anyone. In recent years, she started posting her work in public forums for feedback, which gave her the courage to publish professionally.  She needs copious amounts of coffee and chocolate to survive. She enjoys eavesdropping on the character conversations in her head, which she has been assured doesn’t make her crazy. She always gets the best ideas while in the shower, driving, or about to fall asleep. Though she’s a Florida girl at heart, Lara currently resides in the Blue Ridge Mountains with her husband of twenty years and their three children, where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age fifteen.

Book preview

All I need is one touch

Just one

To remember what it feels like to be home

One kiss is asking too much

One glimpse of your face—impossible

I don't know how to feel whole again

I am merely numb

Hiding behind a smile

~ Lara Norman

Chapter One

Farryn

Ash was gone.

According to the annoying tinny message I received every time I tried to call, his cell phone was disconnected. I couldn't leave my house to speak to his coven, to beg for answers about his well-being. Before long, I was past stir-crazy and well into anger and insanity.

He'd left me some documents; an out, if you will. In them was everything I needed to get the hell out of here in September. He'd labeled it Farryn's Escape Pack, and I would have laughed if I hadn't been so devastated. But I loved Ash all the more for what he'd selflessly done for me.

Forged identification, including a birth certificate and transcripts claiming I'd completed two years at Alder Community College; an acceptance letter to the State University of New York at Plattsburgh as a junior, with full credits for the classes he claimed I'd taken; a room in a furnished three-bedroom apartment near campus to be shared with two other girls; a bank account with a modest amount of money to give me time to find a job in Plattsburg. And, lastly, a handwritten letter I'd already read a thousand times in which he declared he would never forget me, but he needed me to be safe and happy, even if that meant living without him to prevent a war.

I almost wished he would forget me, forget the things we'd done and seen and been together. Whatever would keep him from self-imposed purgatory. But then I would think of the starry night sky above us and the whisper of the wind running around us in the forest, the lightning that flashed as though Ash commanded it. I didn't want to forget one single second, nor did I want him to forget. Instead, I wished I could play that night on repeat as I could my favorite song.

It would be easier not to wallow if I could get out of the house. Being restricted to house arrest was damn hard to accept. My wolf needed to stretch her legs; my meadow missed my delicate touch. The sky from my window seemed so small and insignificant, when I knew how broad and vast it could truly be. I waited for the moon to travel across the sky so I could see her from my window. All I saw these days was rain, gloomy and dreary and suffocating.

As I wallowed in misery on my bed, I recalled the fight Meli had gotten into with Arlo. The Mohawks in our area are all descended from three bloodlines; the Lascarises, the Combses, and the Woodses. Meli was born a Woods, and raged at Arlo that he was an asshole to treat his family members the way he had. Of course, Arlo never saw me as family and probably never would, which didn't help his argument with my mother. Meli and Arlo grew up together and had always been close friends, not merely cousins. She helped him tremendously when Arlo's wife died, and now she felt offended at his treatment of me, her adopted daughter.

Joel didn't escape the earful, either; he got a verbal lashing strong enough to cause him to run from the center and phase in his anger. Unfortunately, none of it mattered in the end because Old man Mato was the eldest, and his word was final. None of us were surprised at how incredibly old-fashioned his views were, and how unchanging. His strict adherence to the old ways embedded fear inside my heart for my family and what their punishment would be if I disobeyed.

I looked up as I heard a soft knock on my door, followed by my mom sticking her head in. Maralah?

Though I wanted to, I didn’t sigh at her use of my original name.  Yeah, Mom?

Her dark gaze took in my rumpled bed and wrinkled clothes; her crow's feet were more prominent as she frowned at me. I set aside the book I'd been unsuccessfully reading and gave her a small, fake smile.

Do you want to come into the kitchen with me? We can have tea and bake some cookies, or whatever you want.

No, I didn't want to bake chocolate chip cookies and pretend everything was fine. I didn't want to force small talk with my mother figure and just set aside my pain to be picked up again when she was done with her nurturing. But I stood, smiled a little wider, and made the effort. It wasn't her fault, after all.

Sure, Mom. I'd love to.

She beamed, and I knew I'd made the right decision. I'd moped for weeks now, and it was time to shake off the sadness before it turned into true depression, if that was at all possible.

The rain pounded the windows as Meli bustled around the kitchen, setting a kettle full of water on the stove to boil and then starting to gather what she needed for baking. Her favorite mixing bowls, her measuring spoons and cups, and then she moved on to gathering ingredients. I watched her for a few minutes, and as the water boiled I took out the tea and the cups, the monotony of the job soothing my crowded mind. I got the honey and milk for Meli, setting it all on a tray and carrying it to the table. While we sat and enjoyed our tea, she let the butter soften.

Well, soon you'll be in college. I can hardly believe it. I may have only been your mother for five years, but you're still somehow my baby girl, you know? She stirred the little spoon in her cup, and I stared out the window and the gloomy world beyond the glass.

Meli's kitchen was a little cluttered; mail, keys, and odds and ends stacked on the edge of the counter by the back door. She collected glass bottles and placed them among a few dishes on a shelf over one window; the bottles glowed if the sun was out. That basically described Meli in a nutshell; the eternal optimist. The room was very rustic and cozy, consisting primarily of wood. I had grown to love it as I did the woman across from me.

Standing abruptly, I went over to her and sat on her lap as she held her arms out for me. It had been years since I'd needed such comfort and reassurance, but it felt as familiar as it always did as she held on tight.

"Now, you’re going to be fantastic when you get to that school. You're going to make friends and see a bit of the world outside this place, as I know you've longed to do. It may