by Viola Rivard
If Asch was right, sometime tonight, the mating thrall would begin. A week ago, Mila’s biggest concern had been about the two alphas fighting to the death over her. With that settled (she hoped), a far more unnerving prospect loomed over the horizon: motherhood.
To be fair, before she had left Tye County, Mila had considered that as a werewolf’s mate, she would eventually be expected to have children. Eventually had been the operative word. Although she had read Wolves of the Cordilleras from cover to cover a hundred times over, the memoir had been written in the thirties. While it was considered a racy book for its time, a lot of the more lurid details of pack life, particularly the details surrounding the mating thrall, had been glossed over or left out entirely.
Going into this, Mila had been under the impression she would meet a handsome, dominant guy who had the occasional urge to howl at the moon. They would engage in a few weeks of courtship that would culminate in passionate lovemaking. After a few years, once they were sure they were a “good fit” for one another, she and her alpha would come to the mutual decision to begin a family. Oh, and the den would have running water and electricity.
Instead, Mila had two dominant guys, and while Asch had his moments where he seemed moderately human, Caim was pure alpha wolf. Rather than being courted, Mila had had sex with the both of them by her second day in the pack, and what the three of them did together could never be called lovemaking. Now, a week into her life as a werewolf mate, they planned on impregnating her. And everyone expected her to be okay with that? Oh, and there was no damn running water or electricity.
God, she could just scream.
Pale arms came around her waist and pulled her into a tight embrace. She recognized Brae’s minty scent and didn’t panic, but stiffened at the feel of the other woman’s damp breasts pressed up against her back.
“Relax, Mila. The water is not so bad.”
With that, Brae lifted her off the ground and hauled her over to the river. Mila thrashed wildly in her arms.
“What the hell?”
“Once you are in the water, you will be fine.”
As Brae moved farther into the river, Mila’s feet, and then her legs, were submerged in the frigid water.
“Rosie, make her stop!” Mila cried.
Rosie wrinkled her nose. “I am sorry, Mila, but you smell terrible.”
“Fine, fine, I’ll take a bath, just let me go,” Mila groused. If Rosie and Brae were in agreement over something, she wasn’t about to argue with them.
Brae complied, setting Mila down in the waist-deep water. She kept her arms wrapped around the trembling human, infusing Mila’s body with her warmth. In the face of the sweet gesture, Mila was unable to stay mad. She let herself relax and leaned into Brae’s embrace.
“How are you so warm?”
“I was born in Nunavut,” Brae told her. “This is nothing.”
Rosie waded over to them. “I will help warm you too,” she said before wrapping her arms around Mila’s neck. She crushed her body against Mila’s front and said, “There, how is that?”
Mila heard a wet slap. “No one asked you to help,” Brae said hotly.
Rosie’s grip on Mila tightened. “I do not need to have permission to help our pack mate.”
“Mila already stinks. She does not need you making her fouler.”
The two women began a slap fight, fiercely smacking at one another with Mila sandwiched between them. She ducked down and tried to stay out of the way of flying palms.
Gem came over and carefully extracted Mila from the naked brawl. “Let’s just get out of the way,” she suggested and pulled Mila along.
The water of the large river bend deepened, and soon, Mila’s feet longer touched the bottom. They swam over to a flat rock toward the center of the river. Mila propped her elbow on the rock and turned back to watch the fight.
“I think the thrall is making them a little wacky,” said Gem.
The moon-faced werewolf had a sweet country drawl that reminded Mila of her cousin Cora. She didn’t know much about Gem, aside from, unlike many of the others, she hadn’t grown up in a pack. This fact alone had made Mila take an instant liking to her. It was nice to have someone to talk to who hadn’t been raised by wolves.
Curious about Gem’s observation, she asked, “Why would that affect them?”
Despite the ambiguity that surrounded the mating thrall, Mila had gone out of her way to avoid discussing it. By completely ignoring it, she’d hoped the whole thing would somehow blow over. With it here, though, she needed all the information she could get.
“We can all smell it,” Gem explained. A faint tinge of pink stained her cheeks. “It’s not affecting us the way it is you or the alphas, but—”
“It’s not affecting me at all,” Mila quickly pointed out.
Gem scratched the back of her neck. “I dunno. I always heard that a werewolf’s mate gets just as loopy when the time comes. My mom said she wasn’t in her right mind for days.”
Mila gave her a dubious look but didn’t respond. She didn’t want to insult Gem’s mother, but she highly doubted the thrall was having an effect on her. If anything, the whole experience was a sobering reminder that she needed to get her shit together and fast.
Gem nodded toward Brae and Rosie, who were still having it out. “They best be toning it down soon. Asch and Caim aren’t gonna put up with that kind of nonsense once you’re having their babies.”
“So tell me, why do they hate each other so much?” Mila asked offhandedly, not really caring at all. For some reason, the word babies sounded even more hair-raising than pups.
“Oh, no reason in particular.”
“What, really?” Her interest piqued.
Gem gave a slight shrug. “Haven’t you ever met someone that you really disliked for no good reason?”
“I guess so, but this,” Mila said, nodding toward the screeching tangle of angry limbs, “is a little extreme.”
Still smiling, Gem said, “Let’s wash up.”
Brae had been right. Mila did get used to the water, though she vowed it would be the last river bath she took until summer. The temperature in the valley was dropping quickly with the onset of winter. The days were short, and in the early mornings, dew crystallized on what was left of the vegetation. Even while sleeping between two warm males, Mila kept herself bundled under blankets and furs as she slept.
After going under to wash her hair, Mila resurfaced to find the women had abruptly stopped fighting. All three wolves looked very subdued as they watched the tree line by the far bank. Mila watched as well, not needing superhuman senses to know who approached.
The wolves of the Lazarus pack behaved normally around Asch. He was a good leader, one who only inspired fear when he was angry. Most of the pack seemed to prefer him as alpha, though few would actually admit it. Even Brae, his staunchest supporter, shied away when Mila pressed the question to her. This was because as much as they loved Asch, Caim pretty much scared the crap out of them.
Besides Asch and Lotus, Mila had rarely seen other members of the pack address Caim directly. Around him, they kept their heads down and rarely met his gaze, making him seem more like a despot than a leader. Mila knew from her short time with him that in some ways, they were right to fear him. He was aggressive, short-tempered, and utterly domineering.
But little by little, she uncovered another side of him—a side that seemed exclusively reserved for those within his inner circle. He could be playful and downright mischievous. Sometimes, she thought he could be loving, but she also suspected she might be deluding herself. Just a couple of days ago, he had told her plainly that he wasn’t in love with her. She doubted that would change any time soon and tried not to let it bother her.
Mila anticipated that Caim would be in his wolf form, but she was still surprised when his large form broke the tree line. In his locked jaws, he half-carried, half-dragged what looked to be a giant … boar?
* * *
Caim set the carcass
on the shore. He loosened his fangs from its neck, leaving behind two sets of puncture wounds. A fresh kill, blood poured from its neck and drained into the river. He indulged himself in a few licks before looking up at the human.
He hoped that once the thrall was over, his attraction toward her would wane. He enjoyed her a great deal, and intended on enjoying her in the years to come, but his reaction to her was bothersome. Not since he was a juvenile had a female rendered him so incapable of controlling his own body.
If it were only the need to mate, it would not have been so troubling. Caim had grown adept at changing her mind when she would refuse his advances. It was no difficult task for him to insinuate himself between her legs and take his fill of the human’s soft body.
Except, he was never full. He always wanted more of her.
His eyes were immediately drawn to her ample breasts, which bobbed alluringly on the surface of the river. The chilled water had made her nipples stiff, and he knew that if he touched them, they would feel like small pebbles between his fingers.
The presence of the other females stopped him from joining her in the water. Usually, he was not averse to mating in view of the pack, but the human had more reservations than he did. Even if she had been willing to let him take her as such, Caim did not find it appealing. One of the many changes that came with having a mate was a sharp possessive streak he could not rid himself of. Sharing her with Asch was enough. He did not want the pack anywhere near him when he mated with his female.
When his eyes finally travelled up to her face, disappointment settled in the pit of his stomach. She looked angry.
“Is that a boar? Why did you bring that here? Oh my god, it’s bleeding into the—”
Caim shifted into his human form, temporarily silencing her. He watched, satisfied, as her eyes swept over his body. It had been an hour since he had left her in bed. She had wanted him then, and it was clear she still did.
“It is a pig, and I brought it so that you could have your pick of the first cut,” he told her, gesturing toward the kill.
The females watched quietly as the human paddled over to his side of the river, making a wide path around the pig and the stream of blood emanating from its neck. She wrapped her arms around her torso as she came ashore, and Caim noted with displeasure that her lips were turning blue. Instinctively, he reached out for her. Her irritation all but forgotten, she readily accepted his embrace.
“I’ve never seen a pig that big,” she said and leaned her wet head against his chest.
“I caught one twice as large last spring,” he told her, squeezing the water from her hair.
“It is true,” Rose said. “We fed off it for days. By the end of the week, Brae was as fat as a sow.”
The two females began arguing. Caim barely registered them, his entire being focused on the woman in his arms. The scent of her impending heat was stronger now, and he wanted nothing more than to carry her away into the forest and bury himself inside of her.
She propped her chin on his chest and said, “I’m all for pork, but I prefer my food without a face.”
Frowning, he asked, “It does not please you?”
She winced. “Maybe next time, flowers?”
Flowers, Caim thought dryly. As long as he lived, he would never understand human women.
“Have you never in your life gone without a meal?” he asked her.
“I dunno, why?”
“Perhaps if you went hungry for a day then you would be able to appreciate the value of such a kill.”
He caught her rolling her eyes. His anger rose, but immediately waned as her arms came up to loop around his neck.
“Well, it’s a good thing I have a big, strong man like you to make sure I never have to worry about things like that.”
In a rational part of his mind, Caim knew she was patronizing him. That part of his mind was currently preoccupied, though, all of its faculties diverted toward ensuring he did not abscond with the devious little human in his arms. So instead of brushing off the cheap compliment, he did something he very seldom did. He fell prey.
“I would never allow you to go hungry,” he told her, his spine straightening.
He would sooner serve up a wolf from his own pack than see her go hungry. In fact, he could think of two females in particular who would make excellent meals for his mate.
Turning to the squabbling women, he called out, “Brae.”
She froze, eyes widening. “Yes?”
“The human is cold. You will take her back to the den.”
Rose held up a hand. “I can escort her back.”
He ignored her.
“You’re not coming back to the den?” Mila asked. “What about your pig?”
“The other females can bring it back. I will be rejoining the hunt.”
As he watched Brae lead the human away, he knew his control only extended so far. He would not be rejoining the hunt tonight. In the far corner of the valley, shielded by the forest, a small den awaited him. He would go there, make sure that the area was secured, and that the den was sufficiently stocked with supplies.
Then, he would come back to collect his mate.
2
Mila had never been what anyone would call “clingy.” In fact, as far as relationships went, she was notoriously standoffish and had never needed the company of a man to feel fulfilled. So, the weird hollowness she felt as they arrived back at the den disturbed her.
She needed some time to herself—time to decompress and seriously think about the important, life-changing things that were about to happen—yet all she wanted was to be with Caim. A part of her had even wished that Caim would drag her away into the woods and bang her senseless. How stupid was that?
Most of the wolves were gone from the central cavern. The sun had just set, and those who had not joined the hunting party had gone out to run or play. The few that hung back were either still sleeping on fur pallets or clustered in small groups, chatting in their human forms. They were growing accustomed to having Mila in the pack, and while most of them weren’t social with her, they no longer stopped to gawk when she entered the room. That was enough for her.
“Let’s warm up by the fire,” Brae said, taking Mila by the hand as they walked.
The bonfire was already lit to a robust blaze in the center of the room. Mila spent most of her nights sitting around the fire with Brae, Rosie, and more recently, Gem. While she tried to get them to talk about themselves, they typically spent the night badgering her for details about her life in the city.
It was hard not to embellish the details of her very unglamorous past. They seemed to think highly of her, and she wasn’t about to tell them she’d been an indecisive bozo whose father had cut all ties with her when she flunked out of college.
As they made their way across the room, Mila noticed a large black wolf sleeping on the dais overlooking the bonfire. The dais was usually reserved for the alphas, and for a moment, she thought it was Caim, and then she realized it didn’t make sense, as he’d said he was rejoining the hunt.
Mila puzzled over the wolf as sat in front of the fire. Still standing, Brae told her, “I will go get you some food,” and disappeared.
Looking forward to a few minutes alone, Mila relaxed and rubbed her hands in front of the fire. Her alone-time didn’t last long. Before she could snag a moment of quiet contemplation, Rosie and Gem sat down on either side of her.
“Hey, guys,” she said weakly.
Her blue eyes impossibly wide, Gem brimmed with excitement. “I’ve never seen Caim like that. He is so into you.”
“Huh?” Mila asked, taken aback.
“The way he held you? It was so romantic!”
Mila felt her face begin to heat. “Get your head outta the clouds. He’s just acting like that because of the thrall.”
“You shouldn’t think like that, Mila,” Brae said, approaching the fire. She handed Mila a stick with several chunks of raw meat speared onto it. “However much you t
hink he is affected by the thrall, imagine how devoted he will be toward you once you are carrying his pups.”
“I’d rather not,” Mila said under her breath.
Holding the stick over the fire, she watched glumly as the meat roasted. While it was nice having fresh meat for every meal, she was beginning to crave some variety in her diet. What she wouldn’t give for fries and a coke.
“What’s wrong?” asked Gem.
“Nothing. Just a little tired of eating meat, I guess.”
Gem gave a heavy sigh. “I know what you mean. I would kill for some ice cream.”
“I miss ice cream as well,” Rosie said thoughtfully.
Mila jerked her head to the side. “Wait a minute. You weren’t raised in a pack?”
Shifting uncomfortably, Rosie said, “I lived in Leesburg until I was old enough to leave and join a pack.”
Brae sat down beside Rosie, an impish grin on her face. “Rose was raised by dogs.”
Mila watched as Rosie paled and then colored, her skin turning into a patchwork of splotchy reds. Without warning, she turned and shoved Brae, sending her careening backward several feet. Before Mila could blink, Rosie had dived on top of Brae, her hands wrapping around Brae’s slender neck.
“I told Kallie that in confidence!” she shrieked.
Mila was marginally relieved to see that Brae seemed more amused than frightened, but she still backed away from them.
Laughing, Brae replied, “And I am confident that she found it just as funny as I do!”
Mila grimaced and looked away as the two began trading blows. It had made sense to her that male werewolves chose not to live with humans, what with them constantly plagued by the scents of fertile women. Now, she was starting to understand why females also chose to leave human society. Even women like Brae, who at times seemed so elegant and well mannered, could do an about-face at the drop of a dime, yielding to the capricious beast within.
The wolves gathered around in a loose circle and watched the spectacle unfold. Neither woman shifted, but it still looked more like a dogfight than a brawl between two naked women. Mila couldn’t help but feel bad for Rosie, as Brae was clearly toying with her. Rosie might have been fueled by her anger, but it was apparent she had no idea how to fight.
