Wolf's Choice

by Carina Wilder

  I lay down again, a slow smile spreading across my lips. So, he was planning yet another surprise for me. What would this one be? A yacht trip around the world? My own plane? A pony?

  I chuckled. The truth was, I would have been perfectly content just to know that I was officially married to the man I loved more than anything in the world. Nothing else mattered. Not his wealth, his power, his fame. I definitely didn’t need any more surprises. Besides, I would have traded all of it for the guarantee that nothing would ever threaten to tear us apart again.

  Tristan had closed the door on his way out of the bedroom, but a few seconds later I heard the muffled sound of male voices. Maybe it was Marcus, come to check in for approval on our vows. Tristan had never been big on cell phones, and we didn’t have a landline in the new house. So it made sense that my former housemate would have had to drive from the city for an in-person meeting.

  I slipped out of bed and strode over to grab the white satin robe that hung from a hook on the back of the door, which I pulled open when I’d covered myself sufficiently.

  Skipping down the hall towards the second story mezzanine, I shouted out, “Marcus! You should spend the night here—there’s plenty of room!”

  But when I reached the place where I could peer down towards the front door, I gasped.

  “You’re…” I choked out. “You’re not Marcus.”

  The man standing in the doorway was tall, broad shouldered, with piercing blue eyes and a shock of thick brown hair.

  Just like his brother’s.

  “Krane,” I gasped, grateful to be far enough away from him that I couldn’t pick up the devilishly sensual scent that had screwed with my mind on more than one occasion.

  “Hello, Ariana,” he said, a smile slipping over his lips. “So nice to see you again.”

  “My brother was just leaving,” Tristan growled, looking up at me with an expression that said Go back to the bedroom and shut the door.

  “Right. I was just leaving,” Krane repeated as if my lover had played some Jedi mind trick on him. He turned away, but spun back to stare at Tristan again. “But before I go…”

  “Krane,” Tristan said in an authoritative voice. “Don’t.”

  Krane lifted his eyes to look at me. “What your future husband is trying to say is that I’ve just warned him about something, and he doesn’t want to listen to me. Maybe you would be so kind as to take me seriously.”

  “Warned him? About what?” That same feeling of dread was seeping into my bones again.

  “Nothing,” Tristan replied. “Nothing I didn’t already know, anyhow. Krane’s just causing us problems because it entertains him to ruin my life.”

  “Oh, I beg to differ, Brother,” the other man shot out. “There’s a lot that you don’t know. Trust me—you don’t want to find out the hard way.”

  “I know everything I need to. I’ve dealt with any potential issues. Now you should leave before I…”

  “Before you what?” Krane’s eyes flashed bright gold for a moment before settling back into their usual blue. “Is your big bad wolf going to tear me a new one?” He looked over his shoulder to the world outside. “Or is it that an army of Valks is going to come for me? Don’t forget, Brother dear, last time you tried that it didn’t end so well.”

  I could see Tristan’s shoulders tense as he fought back his wolf. The temperature in the house seemed to be rising by several degrees, as if his rage was somehow altering the climate. Or maybe it was mine. “Just leave, Krane,” he said in a tight voice. “Please.”

  His brother shrugged. “If you insist,” he said. “But keep an eye out. You’re not going to like what you might see tomorrow.” He finally turned to go, but stopped in the doorway. “And don’t say I didn’t fucking warn you, Tristan.”

  Chapter 13

  “What the hell was he talking about, Tristan?” I asked. “What’s going on?”

  He looked up at me as he shut the door, his expression one of concern for the first time in ages. But it quickly shifted into something calmer, which only told me he was working hard to mask his worry. “It’s nothing. Krane doesn’t know that I struck a deal with the Seven,” he said. “He thinks they’ll try to interfere tomorrow. He says they know about the wedding. But like I said, it doesn’t matter.”

  At the mention of the Seven, my fingers wrapped around the railing so hard that my wrists began to ache. My heart racing, I forced myself to loosen my grip and ordered myself not to panic.

  “I’m confused,” I said. “You’re saying he’s looking out for you? Your insane psycho brother is trying to protect you? Why would he even do that?”

  “He’s not protecting me,” Tristan shot out. “If the bastard was concerned about my well-being, he would have done something all those years ago when it actually mattered, instead of making himself scarce while Demarche beat me to within an inch of my life. This is just Krane’s way of getting his rocks off. He knows there’s no way the Seven will show up here. They have no motivation to take me down, not anymore. I’m nothing to them.”

  I edged my way over to the staircase and began a slow descent. “What exactly did you offer them when you struck this ‘deal’ of yours?” I asked. “You never did tell me. How do we know they won’t show up like he says?”

  Tristan threw me a brief, unconvincing smile. “I told you at the time; I made them an offer that was too good to pass up. My contact on their side assured me that they’d let go of their past grudge and let me—and you—live our lives in peace. Lover, we have nothing to worry about.”

  “But what if your contact was wrong?” I asked as my toes met the floor at the base of the stairs. For some reason it was cold to the touch, sending a hard shiver through my body.

  Tristan took a step towards me, reached over and pulled me close, kissing the top of my head in what was no doubt an attempt to comfort me. For a moment, it worked. I felt safe, insulated from danger. Ironic to think that I had the blood of a Valkyrie coursing through my veins, yet I’d never felt truly strong, never felt wholly changed. I was still vulnerable, still terrified of losing everything.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, his rich baritone voice vibrating through my body. “I won’t let anything happen to us. I will love you until the end of time, then for a thousand years after that. Do you hear me? Tomorrow is our day. Ours alone.”

  I nodded, though the tears in my eyes betrayed my panic. “I know you love me,” I told him. “And I love you too. So much. But I’d feel better if you’d accepted my offer and changed me…their rule is that you can’t marry a mortal, Tristan.”

  As I said the words, his body went rigid. “Ariana, I thought we weren’t going to talk about that again.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but stopped. He was right. I’d agreed to drop the subject. “I’m scared, Tristan. I don’t want to lose what we have.”

  “Don’t be scared. I’m here. We’re together, we’re safe. Let’s go back to bed and get some sleep, so we enjoy our wedding day tomorrow.”

  “Sure,” I replied. There was no question that I wanted to go back to bed with him.

  But whether I’d sleep was another matter entirely.

  Apparently I did sleep after all, because sometime around eight in the morning, I awoke to find myself alone. At first my mind went into a tailspin, recalling Krane’s ominous visit last night. I leapt out of bed, my eyes hunting around for some sign that all was well, that the Seven hadn’t come by in the night to ruin our lives.

  After a few seconds, my eyes found a note that was sitting on the small console table at the other side of the room.

  I strode over to pick it up, only realizing as I slipped past the large window at the front of the room that I was utterly naked. Good thing we’re in the middle of nowhere.

  The page was folded in half, with my name on the outside. On the inside, Tristan had simply written

  To my soon-to-be wife…

  Look in the closet.

  With all my love on the
best day of our lives, T.

  I couldn’t help but let out a laugh. This wasn’t the first time Tristan had pulled this stunt, of course; he’d done the same thing when he’d given me the red gown I’d worn to the Midsummer Ball.

  I could only suspect that he’d managed to outdo himself this time.

  Sure enough, when I opened the closet door, my jaw dropped open and I sank to the floor, my legs folding under me.

  My lover had more than outdone himself. He’d worked a miracle. A dream was suspended in the air in the middle of the walk-in closet. A perfect, beautiful, feminine creation, no doubt tailor-made to my exact proportions. For a moment I just stared at it, grateful beyond words that a man like Tristan loved me enough to treat me to so many magnificent surprises.

  Finally I rose to my feet to get a better look at the dress, which was pure white, made of what looked like the most delicate silk. Its upper half consisted of one draping shoulder, the lines of the bodice curving down to a waist that expanded into a long, flowing skirt of embroidered silk. Next to the dress on another, smaller hanger, was a long, flowing veil.

  Gently, I lifted up the bottom hem and examined the subtle design, my eyes picking out a running wolf, a woman, and something else. As I examined it more closely I could see another woman, this one astride a winged horse. The mythological image of a Valkyrie, I thought. My blood. Perhaps she was meant to be me—or maybe it was Kara. Either way, the dress told the story of the world I’d stepped into the day I’d met Tristan. The world that was now my home.

  As I moved around the garment, I noticed more creatures—lions, bears, even white ravens. This dress was a work of art. Someone had gone to the trouble of crafting an entire history of the shifters who’d been part of Tristan’s life and were now part of mine.

  At first I didn’t even notice that around the base of the skirt, a series of scrawling words were embroidered. As I knelt down to take a look, I read:

  Never have I loved as I love you.

  Never will I love anyone else.

  I am yours for eternity, whatever happens.

  Ariana and Tristan, 2018.

  My eyes welled up with tears and I instinctively pulled back, terrified of staining the amazing garment. I knew perfectly well, of course, that it would get damp on the walk down to the Magic Lake. But that wasn’t the point. In this moment, it was perfection…and I wanted it to stay that way as long as possible.

  Chapter 14

  The wedding was to take place at noon, so I put on my robe and headed downstairs to get some coffee. Tristan was nowhere to be seen, and I could only assume that he was making himself scarce on purpose. I supposed he wanted to keep one vestige of a traditional wedding and abide by the old superstition that a bride and groom shouldn’t see one another before the ceremony.

  After a cup of hot, delicious cappuccino, I sprang back upstairs to head into the en-suite bathroom and shower. When I was finished toweling myself off and drying my hair, I realized I hadn’t heard from Marcus since our arrival in New Orleans. It had to be nine o’clock by now, and I hadn’t heard a peep out of him.

  I slipped off my robe, headed over to the closet, eased the wedding dress off its hanger and carefully pulled it on, managing to do up the side zipper. Of course the gown fit absolutely perfectly. Someday I wanted to meet Tristan’s mystery tailor and learn his or her secrets; I still had no clue how the hell someone could make me these extraordinary garments without ever having met me. Then again, the man could change into a wolf, so I supposed I shouldn’t be all that shocked that he knew some genius dressmakers.

  As I stared at myself in the mirror, trying to work out what to do with my thick mane of brown hair, a gentle knock sounded at the bedroom door.

  “Who’s there?” I asked, my heart beating just a little faster with the thought that it might be Tristan.

  “It’s Marcus,” said the deep voice beyond the door.

  “Oh my God! Come in!” I chirped.

  He pushed the door open and stepped inside, closing it behind him. I didn’t want to wrinkle the dress, so I resisted the urge to run over and hug him despite the fact that I felt like I hadn’t seen him in ages.

  He stopped in his tracks and appraised me, a broad smile slipping over his lips. “Ari, you look beautiful,” he said softly.

  “I haven’t even put any makeup on, and my hair…” I began, but suddenly I wasn’t worried about any of that. “Marcus, you don’t look so beautiful,” I told him. His face looked thin and drawn, his skin even more pale and gaunt than the last time I’d seen him. Even his hair looked less full than usual. His entire frame had shrunk, like his ongoing, inexorable illness was devouring him in slow motion. Even the suit he was wearing seemed to be swallowing him whole.

  “I know,” he said with a shrug. “I almost changed my mind about officiating today, because I knew you’d freak out. But I had to come. I knew how important this was to you.”

  “You shouldn’t have made the trip. Someone else could’ve…”

  Marcus held up a hand. “I’m fine,” he said. “You don’t need to worry. Like I’ve told you, this is my last test. After this, I’ll be free.” With that, he pulled his eyes away as if he was avoiding my stare.

  “Oh, thank God,” I said. I didn’t care anymore if I wrinkled the dress. I leaped at him and threw my arms around his neck, squeezing hard. “I can’t wait until you’re back to your old self. I’ve hated seeing you go through this.”

  Marcus chuckled. “I hope to hell I’m never my old self again,” he said. “I want to be my new self. Honestly, I feel like I’m dying of thirst right now, only the drink I’m looking for is just out of reach.”

  “Can I do anything to help?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Just marry the guy you love. Let me be part of it. At the end of today, the world will be a little better.”

  “That’s sweet,” I said. “I hope you’re right.”

  Marcus pulled away, pulling his gaze to the window as if something had suddenly distracted him. “Do you need anything?” he asked, turning back to me. “I mean, I’m assuming you’re good to go.”

  “I just need to slap some clown makeup on and do something about my stupid hair. After that, yes, I’m so ready to become Mrs. Tristan Wolfe. Or he can become Mr. Ariana Clarke. Whichever, I’m a modern woman and don’t care about all the stupid customs, damn it.”

  “Hmm. Somehow I don’t see him repainting all his fancy planes and shit,” Marcus chuckled. “I think you’re stuck being Mrs. W.”

  I laughed. “Fine with me. Listen, I’m just going to make myself presentable. Come get me when we’re ready to do this thing. Oh—and I assume there’s a witness?”

  “Yeah,” said Marcus. “The Southern Pack’s Alpha will be here.”

  “Right, Trick is coming. I knew that. Okay, good.” I turned away but swung around again, my mind starting to race as I tried to figure out what the next step was. “Shit. I just realized I don’t actually know what I’m doing.”

  “You’re getting ready to sign your life away and vow to eternally obey a very wealthy man.”

  “Listen, buddy—if you throw the word obey into the vows, I don’t care how weak you’re looking. I’ll punch you right in the jaw.”

  Marcus reached into his pocket and yanked out a folded piece of paper, pretending to scratch something out. “Right,” he said, “No obey…”

  “Okay, good.” I spun away again and flew towards the bathroom, shouting, “I’m getting MARRIED!”

  Chapter 15

  In the end I chose to wear the veil that Tristan’s dressmaker had provided, a decision that didn’t come from any adherence to tradition on my part. It was only that I wanted my world to take on an appearance of ethereal, romantic mist as I made my way through the dense green of Tristan’s old family property towards the lushness of the Magic Lake’s shores.

  At 11:50, Marcus held my hand as I stepped gingerly over the damp ground leading away from the house, my feet clad in a pair
of sparkling silver slippers that I’d brought with me.

  I’d ultimately settled on a loose up-do for my hair, tendrils dangling around my face. My makeup was minimal but tasteful. Today wasn’t a day for photos and glamor, after all; it was a day for quiet reflection on what my husband-to-be and I meant to each other. I knew he would love me regardless of whether or not I’d opted for mascara. Tristan’s only concern today was that we make our bond official, for my sake as well as for his.

  The cheerful sound of bird calls greeted my ears as I advanced, and I chose to take it as a good sign. Birds only hung around in trees when they felt safe and secure. Their presence meant there was no threat to our ceremony; no intrusion into our future happiness.

  Marcus and I were silent, but every now and then I’d glance over and see that he was smiling. He looked happy in spite of his obvious weakness, and I couldn’t help but be pleased for him. Today marked a sort of rebirth for us both, after all. He would get what he’d always wanted as soon as the ceremony was over. Tristan would release him to graduate from Lesser to full-on shifter, and he would find a strength he’d never known. I was pleased that the day meant so much to both of us; maybe in a few years we’d celebrate our mutual anniversary with a toast at some Manhattan bar.

  When we were close enough to the Magic Lake hear the rush of the beautiful waterfall at its far end, the butterfly swarm made its way into my stomach as if on cue.

  “This feels too good to be true,” I murmured, halting for a moment to catch my breath. “Everything that’s about to happen—I’ve had so many fears that it would go wrong, but here we are. Tell me I’m not dreaming.”

  “You’re not, believe me,” Marcus said. “This is happening, Ari. Your special day.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” I tried to smile, but a vicious warning flew into my mind, like a bat flapping unpredictably in every direction at once. I couldn’t quite catch hold of what it was that was frightening me—did I think Tristan might change his mind? No, of course not.