Chapter 2: Chapter Two—Lucas

It felt different that night. Something about the way the wind shifted against him. Even the bayou seemed quieter than before. He blamed it on the moon—that’s what his granddaddy always did, so he followed suit.

The humid air formed sweat on his hairline not two seconds after he stepped out onto his wraparound porch.

He was used to it, though.

Lucas spent his entire life in Louisiana and he didn’t know any different from the heat. His Cajun accent came from living around the border before moving to Abita Springs in junior high, where he met his pack.

He lit a cigarette and took a long drag, letting it feed his soul. Most seventeen-year-olds didn’t smoke, openly, but with his parents living in Texas and the emancipation finalized, it didn’t matter anymore.

They knew he could take care of himself. Lucas always felt older than his age. His Momma probably thought differently, but he felt it inside.

When he turned thirteen-years-old, he understood why he felt fiercely independent. At least, after he shifted for the first time, and his granddaddy explained it to him, he did.

Being the descendant of a rougarou didn’t make life easy. It sucked at times, but having others with him made it tolerable. He didn’t have to keep it bottled inside anymore. Most people in the parish thought of it as an urban legend still lingering around from the old days. A Louisiana version of a werewolf that every town told around the campfire to scare little kids.

But he knew better. Because he was that beast in those legends.

Jaxson and Theo, his bon amis, pulled up several minutes later. They both got out of Jaxson’s truck. Since Theo didn’t come from money, he didn’t have a ride. Jaxson’s family owned half of the town and he walked like it.

Lucas told him it looked like a corncob was up his backdoor, but he pretended not to hear.

Jaxson stopped a few feet in front of him. Since his daddy was ex-military, he wore his hair buzzed and kept a neutral face. You wouldn’t think he grew up with a Marine daddy since he got away with murder.

His Momma was raised here in Abita Springs, a Caucasian who went off to college and brought back an African American husband—his daddy.

It didn’t go over the best at first—at least his granddaddy said it didn’t—but as the generations grew, the southerners became more opened minded and accustomed to the relationship.

Lucas thought they all needed a lesson in manners.

His Momma always bought him the best boots and jeans—not that anyone at school gave a rat’s ass about it. It was Abita Springs, Louisiana and no one cared about riches and stuff.

All three of their families founded the town. Granddaddy left Lucas a pretty penny and it paid his bills.

Theo, on the other hand, wore hand-me-down clothes from the Goodwill on Sycamore. His parents were druggies that’d been high when he was born.

His grandparents still lived, so they kept all their cash, knowing his parents would spend it on booze and drugs. Not Theo though; he was a good kid with a quiet tongue.

His blonde hair was natural like his mom’s, but he had his daddy’s cleft chin and deep cheekbones.

“You ready to go?” Jaxson asked.

Lucas put out his cigarette on the bottom of his rubber boot. “Allons,” Lucas said.

They all piled into Lucas’ Hummer that he bought used from a lot in downtown Shreveport. Just because he had money didn’t mean he’d spend it all on new stuff. His granddaddy taught him better than that.

“I heard there is a new girl,” Theo said, sliding into the back seat.

Jaxson pushed his seat back in the front. “Yeah, I heard that. She lives over there by Hattie on Kutchenmatcher Rd.”

“Wonder if she’ll come,” Theo asked.

Lucas chuckled. “Why you worried about it, yeah? You think she gonna be your mate?”

Theo shrugged. “Who knows?”

Jaxson tossed Lucas a knowing look. Theo wanted a woman more than any of them. His hormones kicked in early and never left.

Each rougarou had a destined mate that was theirs for life. It reminded Lucas of prearranged marriages because they didn’t get to pick them.

The truth was that she could be ugly and you’d be stuck. Hopefully, destiny knew best for them.

Lucas drove through town knowing the kids would wait on them. Lucas won the mud-ride the last four years in his side-by-side that trailed his truck.

They had a reputation at school as The Trios Loup. In Cajun French, it meant three wolves, but who nowadays actually believed there were rougarous running about in the woods?

Maybe a couple of the older cats, but none of the kids in school thought twice about the name. He was sure they believed it was because they stayed together in a pack.

The closer they drove to the mud-hole, Lucas’ chest felt heavy.

Jaxson glanced over. “What’s the matter?”

Lucas craned his neck, trying to get the frog out of his throat. It was suffocating, that smell—what was it?

“I don’t know. I’m not breathing right, no,” he said. “Do y’all smell that?”

Neither one did. How could they not? Lucas didn’t realize until they pulled up what the smell was.

The new girl was here and it wasn’t what he expected.

Jaxson tensed up beside him. “Now I smell it.”

Lucas nodded. It was everything.

Like vanilla and honeysuckle. His granddaddy described it, but this was too much. It pulled him closer and he hadn’t even opened his door yet.

Lucas tightened his fist over the steering wheel and groaned. His wolf howled on the inside, wanting out—wanting her.

“Yeah, it’s my mate.”

“Not just that,” Theo said. “She doesn’t smell right. She ain’t human.”

He’d never heard of a wolf mating with anything other than human. It made for a clean bloodline. What was she? He’d come across other wolves in the past and a shifter, but this was new.

“This can’t be good,” Jaxson hissed. “Are you sure it’s your mate?”

Theo slapped the back of his head. “Hell yeah, it’s his mate. I can practically smell his wolf hyperventilating. Lucky bastard.”

“I don’t trust that,” Jaxson said. “When have you ever seen a wolf mate with something that isn’t human? When she has your babies it’ll come out screwed up.”

Lucas went to open his door. “Piss off,” Lucas spat. “I don’t give a damn what you think. I can’t wait another minute—I need to see her.”

Jaxson caught his arm.

Lucas snatched away. “Don’t start yo crap, yeah? And leave her alone. She’s mine.”

Jaxson backed away and ran his fingers through his hair. He knew better than to start a fight with Lucas’ wolf.

He didn’t take it from anybody.

Lucas stepped out into the humid night air and his body vibrated.

Her scent smelled like pour toujours—it called to him like a lullaby. One that he couldn’t wait to hear.