Strange Brew

by Angela Colsin

  So she got started by suggesting, “And you wanted to see me because you're interested.”

  “It's more than just interest,” he confessed, and there was a weight to his words she couldn't ignore.

  “Okay, so if I didn't want anything to do with you, then what?”

  “I'd find a way to charm you,” he answered, sounding incredibly confident.

  “And you wouldn't give up because you already see me as being yours, right?”

  At that, Troy eyed her curiously. “Why the sudden scrutiny?”

  “Because I never said I was interested in a relationship, Troy.”

  “You don't have to,” he boasted. “The way you look at me is enough to know you want me.”

  Aislinn couldn't tell if he was teasing her, or being serious, staring at him with a raised brow. But before she could comment on how arrogant he was, he added, “That's the look.”

  So he's teasing me. She stifled her laughter in favor of retorting, “Oh please! I've still got that laxative, you know.”

  Troy grinned in amusement, and she inwardly sighed over the handsome expression, deciding she really could get used to having a werewolf around who chased assholes away, gave her foot massages, and liked to make jokes.

  Of course, there were other reasons having him around would be enjoyable, and the thought reminded her of the ritual and her temporary abstinence. So she promptly got back on their previous subject before they became too relaxed. This is killing me.

  “Seriously, Troy, I don't know much about werewolves, so I—”

  “What do you wanna know?”

  Aislinn pursed her lips. “Okay, I'll bite. Do you find your mates in humans often?”

  He nodded, “It's pretty common, and it's said that the bonding process with a human is more intense than with anyone else.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because of the marking. We have to turn you.”

  She'd completely forgotten about that aspect of being someone's mate. Even with lupines, a human was turned, and though she'd considered what it might be like to become such a thing in the past, she certainly wasn't ready for it now, announcing, “You are not gonna turn me.”

  Aislinn thought he might try to convince her otherwise, but instead, Troy shook his head. “I don't plan on it anytime soon.”

  It was relieving to hear the reluctance in his voice, but the way he spoke almost sounded as if he regretted being what he was. “Why not?” she inquired curiously.

  Switching to her left foot to give them both equal treatment, Troy explained, “The only person I could ever turn is my mate, and the prospect has never agreed with me. Any ferine worth his salts doesn't wanna change his woman, he wants her exactly the way she is. So altering you isn't something I'm eager about.”

  Then his reluctance wasn't because he regretted what he was, but because he respected her as an individual. Aislinn was actually surprised to hear him say such a thing, and didn't have any notions that he was lying about it to gain her approval either.

  “It sounds like you guys put a lot of stock into your women.”

  “We do,” he confirmed. “I know lupines usually have an Alpha male, but all of the werewolf clans have a Matriarch.”

  Now this was interesting. “Really? You take orders from a woman?”

  “My great grandmother, Trisha. She leads the Ashland Clan.” Eyeing her, he inquired, “Why are you so surprised?”

  “I just figured with how feral werewolves are that you'd have a patriarchy.”

  Troy shrugged a broad shoulder. “Humans relate aggression to masculinity, but our women are just as fierce, so it's all in perspective. Trisha's mate, Luther, handles a lot of the outside affairs because some people we deal with think of men as being leaders, but she's the one with the power so to speak.”

  “So it's not really a matriarchy, but egalitarian?”

  “More or less. The women respect us just as much.” At that, he smiled, qualifying, “But I think they know their power over us, so the scales usually end up tipping in their direction.”

  Aislinn bit her lip to hide a grin. Though she wasn't intent on becoming a werewolf anytime soon, it was nice to know they respected women rather than consistently objectifying them—or the men were equally objectified, anyway.

  It also occurred to her that her reluctance may have been due to ignorance. So if she learned more, the notion of eventually being turned might become more appealing, especially if she had a real reason to want it, such as a good relationship.

  “So, do you have to change with the full moon?”

  “No, only when we get older and start losing control.”

  “Losing control?”

  He nodded, explaining, “We call it turning Savage. Basically, the beast rises up to take over completely in werewolves who haven't found their mate yet, and we lose our humanity. It starts gradually happening after about two hundred years.”

  That didn't sound very promising. “How old are you?”

  “A hundred and ninety-five.”

  Aislinn's heart thumped wildly in her chest with fear, surprising her. She didn't think she'd be so concerned about his well being, but it sounded in her voice when she asked, “Then you're about to lose it?”

  “No,” he answered, giving her a pointed look. “Our mates appease the beast's ferocity.”

  “Wait a minute,” she started, sitting up straight. “Is that why you thanked me for saving your life?”

  “That's why. If we don't find our mates, we have to die. It's as simple as that.”

  Aislinn frowned. “Die how?”

  Suggesting it wasn't a topic he liked discussing, Troy sighed, though he didn't deny her an answer. “Once we've slipped so far we can't be trusted any longer, we're confined, and if a mate can't be located before we reach the point of no return, we'd be executed for everyone's safety.”

  “Were you confined?”

  “No, oddly enough. But I was … close.”

  Aislinn took a few minutes to think that over. The idea of Troy having to be confined in particular was somehow upsetting, and it must have shown on her face because he reached over and swept his fingertips across her cheek, reassuring her, “I'm fine, darlin'.”

  His deep brown gaze was warm, and a lump formed in her throat with the strengthening urge to kiss him. She had to fight to remember that this was just a time to talk, reaching up to take his hand and remove it from her cheek before more could happen.

  Thankfully, Troy seemed to interpret the movement as a sign that she wanted space because he slowly sat back again—which was just as relieving as it was disappointing. Aislinn didn't know if she truly wanted to pursue something more with him when the time was right, or if they'd even be compatible, but one thing was clear.

  Her birthday couldn't arrive soon enough.

  Troy was going crazy.

  At nearly every turn, he could sense some form of interest coming from Aislinn—the way she looked at him, her concern for him, and even her scent which was growing aroused that very moment.

  Yet she was holding back, reluctant to get close for what seemed like a specific reason, and he couldn't figure out what it was. Maybe the idea that he'd turn her was enough to overshadow whatever good she could see coming from a relationship with him, and he genuinely regretted it.

  If Troy could trust himself to control his impulses, he'd offer to let her live her mortal life out, then die whenever she did. But sadly, he couldn't hold off on marking her forever without risking his continued loss of humanity.

  Still, he'd rather die than force such a change on her, pushing thoughts of getting closer away in favor of listening intently when she mentioned, “You know, lupines go through bonding, but it's not life or death.”

  “It usually isn't for werewolves either. When I was younger, we were finding our mates more frequently. But things seemed to change overnight.”

  “How so?”

  He wasn't certain he wanted to get into the topic when it
wasn't exactly a happy story, but Aislinn sounded so curious that he elaborated—and kept the explanation as vague as possible.

  “I just remember being at my uncle's ranch when we got word that one of my aunts had turned Savage and was executed. Afterward, that kind of news snowballed until we were hearing about werewolves becoming Savage so often that we had to isolate ourselves from humans in remote communities.”

  Troy didn't want to think of the people he'd known and lost, such as Adam, qualifying before Aislinn could ask more questions about it, “It's one of the reasons Trisha wanted me to come here, so we could start a pack in a place where the mated and the young would be safe.”

  Aislinn was staring down in thought, but he didn't have to wait long to know what she was thinking when she looked back up and asked, “But what happened to make so many become Savage like that? There has to be a reason.”

  Nearly every werewolf had considered the exact same question more than once, figuring there was some underlying cause for the situation. But what could really explain it, or even lead them to an answer? Overtime, most of their kind had come to believe it was just the will of the Gods, or some equally vague circumstance they didn't have any control over.

  “Who knows, their mates could've died before they met,” Troy suggested.

  Aislinn didn't look satisfied with that answer, muttering, “It just seems weird. But I guess the important thing is that you're still finding them, and you have a way to fix the problem.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Then you don't think starting a pack here will help?”

  “It might,” he shrugged, “or it might not.”

  “Why are you so nonchalant?”

  She sounded confused over his apathy, and Troy knew it seemed as if he didn't care. But after spending the last decade believing his life was over and losing a good amount of faith in the process, he'd simply lost the motivation needed to keep a positive attitude.

  Still, how did he answer without going into depth about the darker days of his more recent life? It wasn't that he didn't want Aislinn to know about it, but the topic didn't seem fitting at that point in time.

  “I'm not,” he started, “I've just been so wrapped up in my own troubles that I haven't given much thought to the bigger issues lately. I'm also still getting used to the idea that I'm not actually gonna be executed any time soon.”

  Aislinn had a compassionate look in her eyes that was reflected in her voice when she asked, “You'd given up?”

  “I wouldn't say that.” I'd definitely say that. “I'd just learned not to expect miracles. But then Trisha sent me here, and I was actually excited to come back. It's been a long time since I was in the South.”

  Finally, she smiled. “You like it here?”

  “I did before, but a lot's changed in the past century.”

  “Goddess,” she drew out. “I keep forgetting how old you are.”

  “That a bad thing?”

  “No, just strange, but I'm really curious about what things were like.”

  “History buff?”

  “Maybe a little,” she returned. “Where are you from, anyway?”

  “The South, originally. I was born in Tennessee, grew up in the Carolinas, and then drifted all over, sometimes with packs, but most times alone.”

  “You're a lone wolf?”

  “More or less,” he admitted. “So I was surprised that Trisha asked me to lead the pack here.”

  Aislinn canted her head. “Don't think you'd be very good at it?”

  “Hell if I know. I've gotten used to the idea, but when it actually starts to happen, it's still gonna feel weird.”

  Troy still hadn't considered his life at length, too focused on gaining Aislinn's interest to care. But thinking it over now, he suddenly felt restless in a way, like he had to make up for lost time. The past decade hadn't been completely kind after all, but what the hell was he supposed to do with himself?

  Still, long-term questions could wait. Despite his possessiveness, Aislinn wasn't yet his, and her needs would definitely influence his answers.

  As if reading his thoughts, she next inquired, “What if you and I do end up together? Would I be expected to help lead them?”

  “Not unless you were comfortable with it. We don't even have to stay. But,” he looked around her apartment, “I'm guessing that's what you'd want.”

  She nodded in confirmation. “I couldn't leave my friends and family here. Not that I'm signing on for anything, mind you.”

  Smirking, he pointed out, “You're the one who said you'd be the love of my life.”

  “And I don't always read well for non-humans either, remember?”

  “So you think this is a mistake?”

  When she looked uncertain, Troy felt a pang of disappointed worry, wondering how hard it might be to convince her to give him a chance. That's when he remembered his gift, and now was definitely the best time to present it to her.

  Lifting her legs, Troy slid in closer and draped them across his lap, then reached into his coat pocket to produce the black velvet box, directing, “Before you answer, this is what I meant to give you earlier.”

  Aislinn stared at the box, trying to hide her excitement, but he could see it glinting in her blue eyes when she took it in hand. Opening the lid, what she saw first were two hundred-dollar bills folded together, and he explained, “That's payment for your reading, and extra for the details on our sex life.”

  She briefly rolled her eyes with a smirk, but proceed to lift the money, revealing the rose pendant beneath it, and her eyes widened, turning to him and back twice before she exclaimed, “Oh … oh goddess! Where did you get this?”

  He couldn't help his grin, finding the surprised enthusiasm in her voice to be incredibly satisfying after his long wait. “I found it at a jewelry store up north several years ago.” At her stunned expression, he went on, “I wanted to have something to give my mate when I found her, and I spotted this pendant in a store window. Something about it drew my attention, so I bought it for you.”

  “I … I don't know what to say, Troy.” Aislinn sounded breathless, biting her lip when she looked at the pendant again. “Thank you doesn't seem appropriate.”

  Troy took the box, freeing the pendant before leaning in closer to murmur against her ear, “You don't ever have to thank me, darlin'. Your reaction was well worth the wait.”

  Turning, he lifted an arm over her head to latch the pendant around her neck, and for as satisfying as her reaction had been, seeing her wearing it was so much better. He didn't actually recall the accessory being so pretty before it was around her neck.

  As she faced him with a playful smile, she mentioned, “You know this doesn't mean we're going steady or anything, right?”

  He grinned at her joke. “No, but I can't take my eyes off you.”

  “Troy,” she muttered, “please don't start.”

  Too late. His impulses got the better of him, and Troy tilted her chin to press his mouth over hers, savoring the softness of her lips and the way it felt to have her so close.

  Aislinn moaned in response—the sweetest sound he'd ever heard. But just when he thought she was about to melt against him, she suddenly pushed him away, and Troy barely had time to register it because of how quickly she'd moved.

  In an instance, she'd slipped across the couch, removing herself from his lap completely before announcing, “Okay, look, if you're gonna stay for any length of time tonight, we need to lay down some house rules.”

  “House rules?”

  “Yes, like no touching. At all,” she enunciated. “Otherwise you're gonna have to leave.”

  Again, Troy couldn't understand her reluctance, and her demand was particularly grating. No touching his own mate? Not even to hold her hand or offer a hug? To a werewolf, the idea was laughable—not that he wouldn't respect her wishes, and she seemed especially adamant.

  Still, he asked, “Why? You act like you enjoy it, but you keep backing away.”

>   She let a low, irritated groan, answering, “Because I know how you feel about this, and I just met you last night.”

  Though that was a legitimate point of view—at least, from a human perspective—Troy got the sense that it wasn't the entire truth. Her reactions and this new dictation were simply too extreme, even for a person prone to shyness, and he couldn't fully believe her.

  But pushing Aislinn for an answer was a bad idea, and he'd much rather spend his evening simply talking with her than getting kicked out and making another date with his hand. So he agreed to her stipulation, putting himself against the far side of the couch to show a little faith even though he wanted nothing more than to pull her back into his lap and hold her for the rest of the night.

  “Okay, I won't touch you until you allow it,” he promised. “So what do you feel like doing?”

  Aislinn eyed him as if trying to gauge his sincerity before she relaxed in a manner suggesting some intuition had guided her to trust him. Sitting forward, she grabbed the remote to her television and asked, “How do you feel about bad horror flicks?”

  If there was no chance for them to get closer in a physical sense, then Troy was all up for getting a few laughs at the expense of some B grade movies, answering with a smirk, “The worse, the better.”

  Snickering, she flipped on the television and began going through the list of titles available, deciding on a vampire film that Troy knew was going to be a riot. They eventually ordered pizza, laughing their way through the bad acting, and he never broke his promise to Aislinn, keeping his hands to himself—not that he wasn't extremely tempted.

  But just being with her, getting a good laugh, and learning more about the woman who'd stopped his descent into chaos was fulfilling in and of itself. Besides, he was confident in his abilities, figuring it wouldn't take long to wear her defenses down and, in the very least, earn her trust.

  He'd give it two days, three tops. Then she'd be his.

  Chapter 12

  Five Days Later

  “He has the worst timing.”