Wicked Souls: A Limited Edition Reverse Harem Romance Collection

by Rebecca Royce

  Liam shrugged. “It’s a matter of control. Some of the werewolves are young. Some are newly bitten genetic werewolves, and a few…” His voice trailed off.

  “A few are what?”

  Dean slipped into the booth across from me. “A few of them are just a little too closely related to the other kind of wolf shifters.”

  I frowned at his strange smirk. “What other kind?”

  Liam shook his head. “That is an old, outdated kind of thinking,” he admonished Dean.

  Dean glanced around, checking to make sure no one was listening in. “But it still exists. If she’s going to be alpha she needs to know everything we can tell her.”

  “So, tell me.” I shifted in my seat, uneasy at the thought of becoming alpha for real.

  “There are shifters who change from wolf to human, but instead of starting as humans, they start out as wolves.”

  I tilted my head and wrinkled my nose. “Seriously? What difference does that make?”

  “It’s a source of old prejudices.” Liam shot a quelling glance at Dean.

  “Why?” I shook my head. “If you shift from wolf to human or from human to wolf, doesn’t it eventually not matter which came first? I mean, that’s kind of like the chicken and egg scenario.”

  Liam shrugged. “That’s what most of us think these days,” he said.

  “But there are some very real differences,” Dean said. “No matter what the politically correct wolves say.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like… the wolf-born can’t always control their shifts as well as the rest of us. And they always go wolf at the full moon, and usually for several days surrounding it, too. If you ever heard the story about werewolves changing for three days? Yeah—that’s where it came from.”

  “You just told me that some wolves can’t control it at all.”

  “Probably why it’s considered a sign of weakness—and why the wolf-born are considered less…”

  “Less everything,” Liam supplied.

  The entire werewolf culture was turning out to be more complicated than I had anticipated. As if I had anticipated learning anything about werewolves when I had walked in here this morning. I wondered if I might be in shock. It would certainly account for my willingness to agree to the bizarre stipulations surrounding taking over the pack.

  Or maybe I was dreaming. That was the most likely—or would be, except for the fact that I had never had a dream with this much detail. Or feverish. Maybe I had the flu, and all of this was just a fever dream.

  After casting one more glance at each of the betas, I didn’t know whether I wanted to wake up or sleep for months.

  Owen came back from where he’d been circulating among the growing crowd. He had stopped bringing wolves by to introduce them when Liam and Dean had joined me at the table. Now, he stood next to me and leaned down. “I think everyone’s ready.”

  Seven

  Suddenly, I was nervous. I didn’t like public speaking in general, and now I was concerned about how I would address all these people.

  Wolves.

  “What do I say?” I hissed.

  Owen smiled. “Just introduce yourself, let them know that you’re planning on stepping into your role as alpha as soon as possible, and tell them you’re happy to meet them. All they really need is reassurance that they have someone on their side who will lead them.”

  I nodded and stood, brushing the front of my shirt down. If I had realized a would be speaking to this many people, I would’ve dressed up a little. Not to mention I’d have spent some time working on my alpha swagger.

  “Hi, everyone,” I said, trying to pitch my voice above the noise of the crowd.

  They all went silent instantly. It was unnerving to have that many people prepared to hang on my every word.

  “I wanted the chance to meet you all,” I said. “I know the last couple of weeks have been hard on the pack.” I stumbled a little over the word pack, then kept going. “And I realize that having a stranger come in as your alpha must be disconcerting. However, I want you all to know that I plan to do my very best by you. I will learn as quickly as I can and I’m ready to do whatever it takes to make sure you have the alpha that you deserve.” A cheer went up at that, with what sounded suspiciously like some howling included. “I’m looking forward to getting to know each of you over the next days, weeks, and months. In the meantime, though, I think Owen had offered to open the bar and the grill if anyone is interested in sticking around for food and drinks.”

  Owen raised his eyebrows at me. He’d offered no such thing—but what little experience I had suggested that throwing a party could always help smooth things out. I wasn’t sure what adding alcohol to werewolves would do, but everyone here seemed at home enough in The Moon Moon that I assumed they been here more than once.

  Everyone but me.

  I made my way through the crowd, greeting people and smiling and murmuring.

  Lucky for me, my years in retail had taught me how to make small talk with customers. Who knew slinging clothes at Kohl’s would prepare me for going alpha on a pack of werewolves, but in all honesty, there was very little difference between that and this. Except, of course, instead of trying to sell clothes—or furniture, or books, or any of the other things I had sold since I started working when I was sixteen—I was trying to sell myself. Or at least the idea of me as alpha.

  As I worked the crowd, I checked out all my potential “mates.”

  All the male werewolves in this pack were physically striking. Even the older ones, the ones I was unlikely to choose as mates, were deeply attractive.

  But I had been right in my initial assessment—if I had to choose one, I might as well choose one of the three wolves who had been Uncle Desmond’s chosen advisors. They would know more about how the pack worked than anyone else, and I’d had the added benefit of having at least talked to them alone for a few minutes.

  Forty-five minutes into the party, I had to escape to the bathroom. I splashed cold water on my face, hoping it would help clear my head. It was still spinning from the events of the day.

  And if you think this is bad, just wait until you get married the day after tomorrow. I tried to shush the tiny voice inside my head, but I knew it was right. Things were only going to get stranger from here on out.

  I leaned on the counter, peering at myself in the mirror. What was I going to look like when I shifted into a wolf? And why did I care? Why was I having those kinds of thoughts at all?

  The door opened behind me and I swiftly stood up straight, brushing my shirt down again, as if that would cover what I’ve been doing.

  A woman about my own age sauntered in. She was gorgeous. If I had known about shapeshifters before today, though, I would not have pegged her as a werewolf. She was more feline than lupine. Tall, sleek, with long, straight blonde hair that fell almost to her waist. Her eyes tilted a little upward and were bright, bright green.

  She eyed me up and down, taking in my jeans and T-shirt, my run-down shoes, my unruly brown curls. She leaned over and checked her own face in the mirror. Her makeup was immaculate, of course.

  I had washed all of mine off when I rinsed my face. I grabbed a paper towel and rubbed at the smudges my mascara had left behind.

  “You’re planning to take one of the comitatus as your mate?” Her voice was cold, without inflection.

  “That’s the story,” I said, finishing with my makeup correction—as much as I could, given the fact that I hadn’t brought any makeup with me to use to touch up.

  “Some of the women in the pack won’t be happy with that plan,” she warned me.

  I looked at her, trying to decide if the warning was meant to be friendly or if she was one of those who wouldn’t be happy.

  I decided I didn’t care. I needed to stomp on that kind of thinking. “That doesn’t matter,” I said calmly. “What matters is the stability of the pack, and as the alpha, I intend to make sure my pack is squared away.” And me not having to
go through a werewolf deathmatch—that mattered, too—but I decided I didn’t need to mention that.

  “Do you really think it will make the pack more stable for you to step in when you don’t know anything?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. But it will keep the pack from imploding—at least, that’s what the comitatus told me.”

  I dried my hands on another paper towel and threw it into the trash can. Turning, I put my hand on the door handle and paused to look back at her. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter.” I put on my cattiest smile. “All three of them seem perfectly happy with the idea.”

  I left the bathroom and made my way back to the office table, my heart beating harder than it should over a single snarky exchange in the bathroom.

  Still, I didn’t like the fact that she had felt free to confront me at all. It suggested more dissension in the ranks than I had been led to expect.

  I watched for her among the crowd.

  Finally, I spotted her talking to Liam. He leaned in close, his expression intense.

  Well, that simplifies things, I thought. If Liam has a girlfriend, then he should be out of the running.

  When they headed toward me moments later, though, the woman looked chastened. Liam tugged her by the hand until they stood in front of me. “Sienna, I’d like you to meet my sister, Tara.”

  I blinked as the blonde blushed. “Nice to meet you,” she muttered.

  One look at Liam’s face told me that he knew about the confrontation in the bathroom—someone must have overheard us and reported it to him.

  “Hi, Tara,” I said gently. “Nice to meet you, too.”

  As she left a moment later, Liam took my hand and squeezed it. “Thank you,” he murmured. “She can be impetuous.”

  “It was nice of you to step in to save her.”

  He shrugged. “She loves me, and she’s worried I’ll get hurt.”

  I glanced up at his gorgeous profile. “You love her, too.”

  “Of course. She’s my sister.”

  I hoped I didn’t need that level of intervention with all the pack members before I chose a mate. But I suspected it was going to get a lot more difficult before this was over.

  Eight

  “Wait. You mean, I own this now?” I stared around at the luxury apartment on the eighth floor of a building on Tehama Street.

  “Technically, the pack owns it. But yeah—it’s set up for the alpha to live here,” Owen said.

  “Actually, the pack owns the whole building,” Dean added. “Most of the people who live here are pack members. Not all of them, of course. But more than enough to keep you safe while you’re here.”

  Liam moved toward the bedroom, my suitcase in hand.

  “We can move the rest of your things once the ceremony is over,” Owen said. My head spun with the suddenness of the changes in my life, but I simply nodded.

  “Who gets to spend time with you first?” Dean asked, his question sending currents of anxiety coursing through my entire body.

  “Don’t you guys have some standard way to choose these sorts of things?” I was stalling, and I knew it. I hoped they didn’t.

  I should’ve watched the Bachelorette when I had the chance.

  Returning from dropping my suitcase in my room, Liam took one look at my face and intervened. “We’ll work that out among ourselves. But one of us will be here tomorrow morning to pick you up at nine.”

  I heaved a sigh, glad to be relieved of that decision.

  The men said goodbye and filed out, leaving me in my shiny new apartment in a city I’d rarely even visited…and about to marry a man I didn’t know.

  Owen picked me up next morning—or rather, he met me in the lobby after having the doorman—or would that be door wolf? I wondered—call up to let me know he was there.

  He carried a giant bouquet of roses and a small box of chocolates.

  “Thank you,” I said, taking both gifts in my arms and then staring around helplessly.

  “You can leave them with me, ma’am, until you get back,” the doorman said. I nodded and handed over the gifts, then watched for a second longer as the doorman tucked them away somewhere behind his desk.

  “You’re a traditionalist,” I said, turning to Owen. I smiled to take any sting out of my words.

  “I guess so.” Owen jammed his hands down into his jeans pockets.

  And he is shy about it, too, I noted to myself.

  “It seems like the right thing. I mean, if I’m trying to convince you that I should be your mate, it’s the least I should do.”

  At the word mate, a shudder ran through me.

  I hadn’t slept well the night before, too nervous about what was clearly a huge decision in front of me. Not one I wanted to make, not one that I chose. One I was being forced into. But it could be worse. I could be forced to choose one of the less attractive wolves I had met the night before. Or even worse than that, I could have been forced into a fighting ring against one of those wolves.

  Or I could be back in retail trying to keep T-shirts folded.

  If I had to choose one of the wolves in my pack, why not Owen, Dean, or Liam?

  Still, the entire process made my stomach hurt.

  I shut off the feeling. I was stuck with this decision, but at least it was among three apparently nice-enough guys.

  I linked my arm through Owen’s and tugged him gently toward the front door. “Where are you taking me?”

  “I thought we might go out for breakfast and then to a movie.”

  Owen was a traditionalist in all ways, apparently.

  “Sure. Did you have a particular movie in mind?”

  “I thought I’d let you choose.” On his phone, he pulled up the showings at the nearest movie theater. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. Yep. He was a traditionalist and he was all male.

  “This one,” I said. I pointed at a new action film. “What’s not to like? A little action, probably some gunfire. Looks like it might be a good match for a…” I looked around and dropped my voice. “A werewolf.”

  Owen laughed and tilted his head in acknowledgment. “It does sound like something I’d enjoy.”

  The movie itself was unremarkable. We enjoyed it—it had all the things I had suggested as selling points.

  For me, though, the highlight of the movie was when Owen reached over and wrapped my hand in his. It sent sparks shooting up my arm and down my spine.

  Flowers, candy, a meal, and a movie—they might seem unoriginal to an outside observer. And Owen’s calm demeanor might even fool some people into believing he wasn’t particularly passionate. But all it had taken was one glance into his eyes, one touch of his hand, for me to know that he was absolutely burning underneath all that cool exterior.

  I glanced over and smiled, and he returned my look with a searing gaze of his own.

  He waited until after the movie to kiss me, and Owen’s kiss was expert. We were the last ones leaving the theater, and as we walked toward the exit in an empty hall, he placed his hands on my hips and pulled me into him, then slid one hand up my back and the other around my waist, holding me both firmly and carefully as he teased my lips part. The longer we kissed, the more that fire within him seem to flare, burning hotter and hotter. Sliding his arm down from my waist, he hooked one of my legs up, holding it behind the knee so that it almost wrapped around him. Through his pants, I could feel how hard he’d gotten, and my nipples tightened in reaction.

  He knew exactly what he was doing, too. Sex with Owen would be amazing. At the thought of it, a tremor ran through me, and I could feel Owen smiling against my lips.

  “I think that needs to be enough for today,” he said. Gently, he placed my foot back on the ground and ran his hand up my thigh and settled it back on my waist.

  A soft, contented sigh escaped me.

  Nine

  When Owen dropped me off at my new apartment building, Dean was waiting in the lobby, a motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm. He wore dark jeans an
d a black leather jacket over the T-shirt touting a rock band I didn’t recognize.

  He looked like sex incarnate.

  Owen’s sensuality sizzled beneath the surface. Dean wore his right up top where everyone could see.

  He knew it, too. Those golden eyes of his flared with heat and he grinned as he took in my reaction to his appearance. “Hey, baby. You ready to ride?”

  I couldn’t help but return his smile. “Do I need a helmet?”

  “I’ve got you covered.”

  He held out his hand for me to take. I wrapped my fingers around his, and his hand engulfed mine. Dean might be a little shorter than Owen or Liam, but he was still enormous compared to me.

  Outside the sun was shining brightly, glinting off the immaculate white motorcycle in front of the building. He handed me an extra helmet from a saddlebag on the side and slung one leg over to get the bike started. As I climbed up behind him, I wanted to ask where we were going, but I wasn’t sure how well he’d hear me over the roar of the bike’s motor.

  With Owen, my life would be calm and organized, and as predictable as possible, given that I lived among werewolves now and horrible things happened, like fairies exerting mind control over other pack’s members. There was something appealing about exerting some control over a life with that kind of chaos.

  Dean, however, embraced the chaos, I suspected.

  We swept up the highway, the bay glittering in the sunlight beside us. I found myself laughing aloud as the crisp October wind whipped over and around the bike. Like Owen, Dean was hot to the touch, almost burning my arm where it rested against him, even through the layers of fabric and leather.

  It must be a werewolf thing, I mused. I wonder if I will burn this hot after I can shift, too?

  I rolled my eyes. Part of me was still astounded that I could even have thoughts like that. I had clearly gone as insane as my parents.

  We pulled up in front of a street carnival, complete with rickety rides. As Dean parked the motorcycle, leaning it over on its kickstand, I took my helmet off and shook my hair out.