Wolf's Choice

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Wolf's Choice Page 9

by Carina Wilder


  Was it something else? Something intangible?

  Was I afraid that I would have second thoughts?

  Definitely not.

  There was only one thing to fear now, and that was that my life would finally reach its pinnacle. That everything was falling into place after years of uncertainty and awfulness. Over time, I’d learned to convince myself that I didn’t deserve to be happy. Yet here I was, ecstatic, blissful…and I didn’t know how to accept such perfection into my life.

  I deserve this, I told myself. So does Tristan. So just accept it, smile, and let it happen.

  “You ready to do this?” Marcus asked.

  I nodded. “I really, really am,” I said. “So ready.”

  We proceeded towards the small pond where Tristan and Trick, the Alpha of the Southern Pack, were standing side by side. When we got close Marcus bent his arm and I slipped my hand into the crook.

  In the absence of the father I’d lost so long ago, he guided me towards my groom.

  Tristan inhaled as I approached, his sexy lips parting in a moment of apparent shock. “You’re so beautiful,” he mouthed when I’d come close enough to take his hand. “The dress is perfect, as I knew it would be.”

  He was wearing a dark suit with a white shirt, open at the collar in the way that I’d always found irresistible. He looked as incredible as always, but his eyes seemed to be smiling in a way I wasn’t used to.

  My groom looked truly happy.

  “Thanks,” I said, “So are you.”

  I glanced over at Trick, who shot me a smile and a wink. He seemed less daunting now, in a suit and tie, than he had the first time we’d met. Then again, everything in the world had seemed daunting that day.

  “Hi there,” he said. “Nice to see you again, Ariana.”

  “And you. Congratulations, Alpha.”

  “Thanks.”

  I gave him a nervous smile and turned back to my fiancé as Marcus sidled over to my left to stand between us and the small pond. He pulled the folded sheet of paper out of his pocket and looked at us both. “I don’t quite have this memorized,” he said sheepishly as he unfolded it and took a peek at the words scrawled on its surface.

  “It’s fine,” said Tristan. “Just as long as we get it done.”

  He reached out both his hands and I took them in mine, squeezing. I could tell that he was almost as nervous as I was. Maybe, like me, he couldn’t quite believe this was actually happening. In just a few minutes, we’d be married.

  “Ready?” Marcus asked, and we both nodded silently, our eyes locked on one another.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Marcus began, “we are gathered here today to witness the bringing together of Ariana and Tristan in holy matrimony.”

  “Holy?” Tristan asked with a grin. “Really?”

  Marcus shrugged. “Those are the vows I jotted down. I can take it out.”

  “Fine then.”

  I snorted.

  “…to bring together Ariana and Tristan in matrimony.

  Tristan was shuffling his feet impatiently, like something was making him uneasy. “Can we push ahead?” he asked.

  “Of course,” said Marcus. “Let’s see. Okay, here…Ariana, repeat after me: I, Ariana…”

  “I, Ariana…”

  “…take thee, Tristan, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse…”

  I repeated his words then inhaled as I waited for the next ones.

  “…for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part…”

  “…till death do us part…”

  “…and thereto I pledge myself to you."

  “And thereto…” A lump rose in my throat, but somehow I managed to choke out, “I pledge myself to you.”

  Marcus had Tristan repeat the words. With each phrase I could feel him inching closer to me, until he’d finished and our faces were mere inches apart. We were both waiting for the kiss, the final moment of truth that would seal the deal.

  “If anyone present,” announced Marcus, “sees just cause why these two should not be married, let them speak now, or forever hold their peace.”

  I looked around, pretending to be nervous that someone might jump out at us. But the world remained still and quiet, except for the sound of the waterfall cascading in an unending stream of frothy, cool water.

  “Then I guess there’s nothing left to do but declare you two man and wife,” Marcus said with a smile.

  “Rings!” I said.

  “Rings?”

  “I just realized we didn’t exchange them.” I looked at Tristan, and we both cracked up at the same time.

  “Damn it,” he said. “I forgot completely we were supposed to buy them.”

  “So did I.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Marcus said. “You two are married whether there’s metal on your fingers or not. Now just kiss each other, for fuck’s sake.”

  Tristan reached over, pulled the veil up and away from my face, and looked into my eyes. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said. “I’m the luckiest man alive.”

  “Then I’m the luckiest woman,” I replied.

  I edged forward, ready for the moment we’d both been waiting for. The moment when our bond would become official. We were married. I was Mrs. Tristan Wolfe.

  All that remained was the kiss.

  Tristan, too, moved towards me and cocked his head to the side. For a second I thought he was angling his face to kiss me, but when I looked up into his eyes, I could see that his gaze had been pulled towards the woods behind me.

  “What’s happening?” I asked. “Are you being funny right now?”

  But I realized with a jolt of horror that the other two men had also frozen in place, their heads cocked in the same odd way.

  “What’s…what’s going on?” I asked, jerking back and spinning around to see what had drawn their attention. But I couldn’t see anything but the trees around us.

  All of a sudden, a flock of birds shot out of the treetops, darting for the sky like one large, frightened mass retreating from a known predator.

  I turned back to look at Tristan, whose nostrils were twitching, then at Trick, who was also sniffing the air. The two men’s eyes had gone the brightest shade of blue—a color that suddenly frightened me into a state of nausea. Their wolves had sprung to life inside them, and my stomach was churning.

  “Someone answer me, please!” Panic struck me, the feeling of a massive weight bearing down on my shoulders as my lip quivered. “What’s going on?” I asked. “What’s happening?”

  “He’s coming…” said Tristan.

  Trick nodded. “I smell him too,” he said. “He’s close by.”

  “Who’s here?” I asked, spinning around to look to the trees. A moment later, a wolf stepped out from between two cypress trees. Then another, a few feet away. Then a third.

  They were massive, not beautiful or sleek like Tristan’s was. These wolves looked wild, almost sickly, with a feral nature that made them terrifying. Their heads were low to the ground, upper lips pulled back in vicious snarls.

  The first one—brown and gray, with blue eyes and a criss-crossing pattern of angry scars lining his face—came striding towards us, shifting midway across the grass into the man I’d seen in the French Quarter a few weeks back. His hair hung in dirty-looking tangles around his face. His skin was like cured leather, crossed with lines and scars.

  The last time I’d seen him, I hadn’t been aware of all that he was, or all that he’d done to my lover. But now I knew exactly who the man known as the Marquis was. I knew he was the one who’d changed Tristan into a shifter two centuries ago even as he lay dying on the ground, covered in cruel, deep wounds.

  The Marquis had tortured Tristan. Ruined his life. Shattered his mind.

  And I hated him with every fiber of my being.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Tristan growled in a voice that I’d never hea
rd from his lips. He sounded enraged, utterly wild, like he was on the verge of tearing the other man to pieces with his bare hands. Trick, too, had gone tense, his hands balling into angry, powerful fists, his muscular arms straining against his suit’s sleeves.

  “I’m here as a sort of ambassador,” the Marquis said as I drew myself instinctively closer to Tristan. “To speak on behalf of someone you know quite well.”

  “Who would that be?” Tristan asked.

  “The leader of the Seven,” the Marquis said, stopping a few feet away and looking around casually, like his life wasn’t under any kind of threat.

  “I’ve never met their leader,” Tristan snarled. “No one has, outside their circle.”

  The Marquis let out a laugh that chilled me to the bone. “Oh, but you have. Of course, that doesn’t matter much. What I’ve come to tell you is that the Seven aren’t accepting the little deal that you offered them some time ago.” He turned and looked me up and down with those cold, dead eyes of his. “Your marriage to this lovely thing is meaningless, Leclair.”

  “It’s Wolfe,” Tristan said. “My fucking name is Wolfe, and you know it.” I could feel his body heating the air around us.

  “I don’t give a shit what you think your name is,” the Marquis said. “Either way, you can call this ceremony of yours off.”

  “But we’re already married,” I blurted out, drawing a quick glare from Tristan. Shit. I’d probably just done something incredibly stupid.

  “She’s right,” Tristan said. “We are. Now get out of our way or I’ll tear your fucking heart out and feed it to your ugly friends, Marquis.”

  The other man smiled, a set of yellow teeth staring us in the face. He was like walking rot, as if he’d died ages ago and never quite realized it. “I don’t think so,” he said, shooting a look skyward. “See, the thing is, she’s not going to be very happy to hear this. I suspect she’ll have a thing or two to say to you when she finds out.”

  “She?” I asked, my eyes pulling up to the sky. “Who’s she?”

  Tristan grabbed my hand as if to ask me to be quiet. A moment later, a dark shadow fell over us. A massive, winged creature was circling overhead, lowering itself in shrinking spirals towards the ground.

  I knew those wings. I knew the oddly graceful flight pattern. I’d seen one of these beasts before. All of a sudden I remembered staring out the window of the penthouse as Krane’s dragon had come swooping towards me, horrifying and beautiful at once.

  But this wasn’t Krane’s onyx beast. This dragon was metallic gold, its scales glimmering in the sunlight. As it came down to a landing on the open area to the left of the pond, I pushed my face to Tristan’s ear.

  “What’s happening?” I asked. “Who is that?”

  I turned to him only to see him shaking his head. Trick, too, looked flabbergasted. It was all too clear that neither man had ever seen this particular dragon—yet both of them looked terrified.

  “The head of the Seven,” Tristan said. “I assume. Only…”

  “Like I said,” said the Marquis, “she is, of course, familiar to you, though you may not know why quite yet.” His voice was eerily gleeful, like he knew he was about to inflict the maximum possible amount of pain on all of us.

  The problem was, I had no idea how or why.

  The dragon twisted around to fix bright, piercing emerald eyes on us. It was an enormous beast, spikes lining its neck and spine all the way to the tip of its tail. It looked like it could take out skyscrapers with one quick swish of the appendage, and I immediately understood why it—she—was the head of the Seven.

  The creature directed its gaze at Tristan. If I hadn’t thought it was impossible, I would have said she was smiling.

  I put my hand on my new husband’s back and felt him go ramrod straight, his spine turning to steel.

  “It can’t be…” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “It’s impossible.”

  “What is it?” I asked. “Who is she?”

  “It’s impossible,” he repeated.

  “Who is it, Tristan?” I choked out again, desperate for a reply. The most awful feeling had settled into my stomach. “Tell me who she is.”

  A second later my question was answered…and my worst fear was realized.

  Chapter 16

  A flash of brilliant white light filled the air around us, forcing my arm up in front of my face.

  When I dared pull it away, my eyes met those of a ghost.

  All my strength left me as I sank to the ground, no longer caring if my beautiful gown was destroyed by the damp soil at the water’s edge. Nothing mattered anymore.

  Because my life had just ended.

  Instantly, Tristan was in a crouch beside me, his arm supporting my weight as my body threatened to sink right into the earth. Trick stood over us like a powerful sentinel on watch, his eyes locked on the creature who was making her way towards us.

  “Oh God,” I muttered. “No…no…it can’t be. Not her. Anyone but her. Tell me this is a nightmare, Tristan. Tell me it’s not happening.”

  But I knew it was all too real; I could feel her on the air. The awful scent of burning embers left behind by her dragon form swirled around my head like a swarm of gnats. I could all but taste her like a bitter poison that had latched on and taken hold.

  But most of all, I knew that no nightmare would paint that face with such clarity. That awful, familiar, beautiful young face that I’d scrutinized all too many times as it stared back at me from inside the locket I’d taken from Tristan’s childhood home.

  The face of Elodie Demarche.

  “I don’t understand,” Trick said softly, “Isn’t she the leader of the Seven? How do you know her, Ariana?”

  As the woman stood staring at us from twenty or so feet away, a smug grin setting itself across her features, I sat there, frozen, unable to speak. Instead, Tristan replied, “She’s someone who died two hundred years ago. She shouldn’t exist—and definitely shouldn’t be a fucking dragon shifter.”

  I glared at him, trying to determine if he could possibly be telling the truth. Had he really not known all this time that his fiancée was still alive? It seemed unlikely at best. But if he knew…

  If he knew, there was no way I was ever speaking to him again.

  “Elodie is alive,” I said quietly. “Did you know about this, Tristan? Tell me right now.” My voice was trembling with pain, rage, fear. Everything but the joy I should have felt on my wedding day.

  He shook his head. “No,” he said quietly. “I swear to you that I didn’t. I had no idea. If I’d even suspected…”

  If he’d known, I thought. If he’d known, would he be with her? Would they have married? Would I ever even have met him?

  It didn’t matter now. The woman Tristan had loved two hundred years ago—the woman he’d planned to marry, the woman who had carried his child—was alive, and she was walking towards us like a cruel apparition bent on destroying our lives.

  She made her way to Tristan first and held out a hand. “Stand up,” she said. I could feel him fighting the command, trying to resist a fierce desire to do as she asked. I could feel her unrelenting power on the air, just as I’d felt Krane’s in the subway station and at Estella’s ball. This woman was controlling Tristan now, pulling him away from me methodically, deliberately.

  He obeyed, rising slowly to a standing position, though he kept a hand extended to hold onto mine. A knowing smile spread across Elodie’s lips as she looked into his eyes. “Hello, lover,” she said, reaching for the front of his dark jacket. When he pushed her hand away, she clicked her tongue in reprimand. “Careful now. You don’t want to get on my bad side, gorgeous.”

  Her accent was strange and exotic, a mix of nationalities. English, maybe, crossed with Spanish and French? I couldn’t place it. All I knew was that she didn’t sound like she’d spent much time in the United States in many years.

  I could only wish she’d go back to whatever hole she’d crawled out of
and stay there forever.

  “You should be dead,” Tristan said coldly. “They told me you…our child…How are you even here?”

  Trick shot me a look of shock and I realized that he’d never learned about Tristan’s past; no doubt it had long remained hidden under musty floorboards, scrawled in the secret journal I’d discovered.

  “They told you what I wanted you to hear,” she replied, that horrible smile still plastered on her lips. Oh, she was beautiful. But I despised her so much that right now she may as well have been crawling with maggots. I couldn’t look at her without feeling bile rise in my throat.

  I wished so badly for the strength to rise up and strike her down, but I could only imagine what she’d do to me if I tried to lash out.

  “You left me to die,” Tristan said accusingly, his hand tightening around mine. “You could have convinced your father to show me some mercy, but instead you took off and he…”

  “Flogged you nearly to death. Yes, I know.” Elodie laughed. “Oh, come on. You’re not dead, are you? In fact, I’d say you’re very much alive.” She reached for him again, and this time, to my horror, he didn’t push her away.

  Taking that as a sign that he was weakening, she pulled herself closer. “I’m so glad you’re still breathing,” she cooed in his ear. “You look just as I remember you. You always were the most handsome man on earth.”

  Those were the words that pushed me over the edge. “Get your fucking hands off him,” I snarled, pushing myself to my feet. I had no idea what I was going to do to her, but I’d be fucked if I was going to let that bitch touch my husband again.

  She raised her left eyebrow and shot me a look of mock surprise. “Feisty little thing, aren’t you, human?” she said, eyeing me up and down. “Pretty, too, in that kind of plain-Jane way.”

  I ground my jaw and curled my right hand into a fist, but Tristan grabbed my arm and held me back.

  Elodie promptly went back to ignoring me. “See, the thing is, Tristan, I’m very much alive too. I suppose I was just waiting for the right moment to let you know. Oh, but I’ve missed you. We have a lot of catching up to do, don’t we?”

 

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