Blood Crown

by Tamara Rose Blodgett

Quill sits down halfway through the conversation. When she’s finally done, there’s not a word spoken for an entire minute.

  She feels her brows draw together. “Well?”

  “I’m grateful you came here. And that the female, Jenni, and her companion, Devin—and the half-Were whelp have found us here.”

  “Listen, guys, don’t mean to burst your bubble, but this is a girl that was dying of cancer. She had—I don’t know, like, two months left. She looked like crap. Her hair was straw. Her skin chalky and sallow. I could smell the disease’s advancement.”

  Quill nods. “But you’ve changed all that now.”

  “Is she...” Adi swallows hard, not wanting to know and wanting to know so badly, she can’t think. “Is she okay?’“

  “More than okay. Right, Quill?” Dare elbows him, and Quill turns on him, glaring.

  “Fuck, bud, settle.”

  “There is absolutely nothing to settle about when an unclaimed female is around,” Slash says, hitting the nail right on the head.

  “I don’t care. She smells like a wet dream.”

  Susan clears her throat in the background.

  “Sorry,” Dare mutters then fearlessly proceeds with his suicidal commentary, “but I know I’m no Alpha. I can’t hope to have an available female. So who cares?”

  Quill claps him on the back. “Here’s the dilemma. Honorable Were want the female to want them.” His glance takes in Slash and Adi.

  Adi knows Slash is struggling with that statement. She gets he believes she should’ve been with a younger Were... like Quill.

  But our heads don’t choose who we love. Our hearts do.

  Dare and Quill exchange a look.

  “And we’re good males,” Dare says, all joking absent.

  “We are.”

  They look at Slash, and he says, “We should get along fine then.”

  Suddenly, a shadow appears at the all-glass door.

  Slash moves in front of her protectively, but when the door opens, Adi stands, crying out, “Jenni.”

  She is Jenni, but not. For one she’s quarter-change, and Adi swears she can smell the bite of spent adrenaline in the air like spoiling cologne. Maybe Adi’s wrong, but Jenni seems off-kilter. She’s wide-eyed.

  When Quill looks at Jenni, Adi knows. He has his sights set on this female. But Adi is aware of the hurts Jenni’s survived. And it’ll take more than a gorgeous male to woo her.

  It will take integrity and compassion. Adi doesn’t know whether Quill will be the one to give her that, but at the moment, Adi doesn’t give a shit.

  She rushes the woman she saved and wraps her arms around Jenni. “I’m so glad I found you. I was so worried.”

  “I’m okay,” Jenni says.

  Adi pulls back, searching her eyes, remembering that weird smell that burnt her nose. “What’s wrong?”

  Jenni’s silent for longer than Adi thinks she should’ve been but she finally fills the pause, “I got spooked by a cougar.”

  Quill’s brow furrows. “It would not attack a Were.”

  Jenni drops her eyes, hiding them. “I didn’t know.”

  “Right.” Dare studies her.

  “I’m sorry Sebastian couldn’t escort you. He can’t leave Devin and Ella. The whelp must be guarded at all costs.”

  Jenni nods.

  Adi steps back, surveying the two. Jenni looks positively fragile next to Quill, who’s as big as Slash.

  His fingers splay on his denims, and Adi sees him thinking it through.

  Jenni’s shoulders slope inward.

  Seeming to make a mental decision, he wraps an arm around her shoulders. “We have three males on patrol. That leaves us,” his eyes flick to Dare. “And two are scouting other packs.”

  “Females?” Slash asks as though confirming.

  Quill nods.

  “What does that mean?” Jenni asks.

  “The hard truth is, we need females. If there are any who can be romanced away from other, traditional packs, our two males will make it happen.”

  “Are the werewolves...” Jenni sees their expressions and sighs. “Sorry. I keep forgetting. Are the Were that desperate for females?”

  Quill nods. “Were, as a species, are declining rapidly.”

  “Adi here is PG,” Dare says enthusiastically.

  Jenni’s face whips to Adi, dark brows shooting high. “Wow, I mean—I never thought I’d see you again, and I’m so happy.” Jenni gives the first hesitant smile since she walked through the door. “But that was quick!”

  Adi feels her blush. “I’m young to breed,” she says for the trillionth time.

  “I didn’t mean anything by it.” Jenni turns to Slash. “He’s a good guy. I mean...” Jenni gives a nervous chuckle. “He sure took care of those Lanarre jerks.”

  Quill's nostrils subtly flare. “I smell residual fear.” His deep mossy-green eyes land on Jenni like heavy weights.

  “I told you, I ran into a mountain lion. I was scared, badly.”

  His face tells Adi he’s not sure. So her nose wasn’t actually lying. In fact, she finds her sense of smell is even more acute now that she’s with whelp. Adi gets the sense Jenni is omitting something. But why would she lie?

  That’s not the Jenni she met. If anything, she was one of those humans who are huge rule followers.

  Shrugging it off, she concentrates on Jenni, who can be safe, a part of Adi’s home pack. And there are two other females. There’s only a positive spin on this as far as Adi can tell. “Who’s this Devin chick?” Adi asks.

  Jenni laughs. “That’s a sit-down chat, I think.”

  “She’s a human. Kinda,” Dare admits.

  “ʻKinda?ʼ” Adi asks.

  “Yes,” Quill says, plowing a hand through his hair.

  Slash’s brows knot.

  “I smelled a bit of Were in there somewhere,” Dare admits.

  Quill’s chin minutely kicks up, and he gives a minute roll of his shoulders. “I don’t have the nose Dare has.”

  Dare shrugs but seems pleased by the backhanded compliment. “Somebody was humping a human back in the day.” He waggles his dark auburn brows.

  Susan snorts, and Adi tries to hide her grin.

  Jenni doesn’t bother, laughing aloud. “How many generations would you estimate?”

  Dare looks at Slash and answers, “Close enough that she could throw true, produce a whelp. Obviously, she did.”

  “Devin’s a Were?” Jenni says incredulously.

  “She has the blood of our kind in her veins.”

  “That’s why Bray wanted her,” Jenni says. “Even as dumb as he is, some part of him sensed it.”

  Quill nods. “Most Were will have a dalliance with a human woman, but it’s nothing long term. We desire our own females. It’s instinctual.”

  “But if said female had a few drops of Were blood...” Jenni cups her chin, and Quill’s arm slides from her shoulders, falling to his side.

  “It would be enough, even if his nose is not sufficiently acute enough to pick up on the genetics, it might be enough for his subconscious to act without his knowledge. Even a turned male.”

  “Would being a derelict drug abuser dull that?” Jenni asks sharply.

  Quill shrugs. “Maybe. But it is highly unusual for a Were to use. We metabolize drugs so quickly, it would be a never-ending cycle.”

  “So not worth it,” Dare comments.

  Yeah. “We’re not really that safe then?” Adi states into the sudden quiet. She doesn’t want to rile up the guys, but damn.

  The pack has only eight wolves, just six in residence—excluding her mate.

  Three on patrol, two scouting for females to fill out the pack, and insufficient numbers to escort a female? They took a big chance with Jenni. But she figures they were playing a numbers game. There were two females at Quill’s cottage—a whelp too. They had to commit the lesser of the two evils. So Jenni walked here by herself.

  Still, Adi doesn’t like it. “What happened to o
ur pack?” she asks Quill.

  He drags a palm back and forth over his short hair. “Scattered. Soon as the Alpha was killed, there were fights until Were were dead, females sought pack stability elsewhere, and only young Were were left.”

  “You guys are my age,” Adi says softly.

  “We’ve had to grow up damn fast,” Quill admits.

  Jenni looks at him.

  She seems sad, and Adi has that vague feeling of something being wrong again.

  I guess I’m just hormonal. Blows.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Tahlia

  Drek slides her aching body into the still-hot water, and Tahlia sinks below the bubbles. Tahlia’s very thankful that the layer of bubbles provides a modicum of modesty.

  Drek has seen all of her. In action.

  There’s probably not a thing that was hidden when she was kicking Mae around.

  And if she’s not careful, Mae might seek retribution, and the least of her worries will be that her chosen has seen her naked at the worst times.

  But right at this moment, Tahlia is content to digest her food and have Drek here. She shouldn’t rely on him one bit. The pack is a disaster, and even though he’s a male Lanarre, his subjects were terrible to her and Tessa.

  Can she move forward with mating her intended? Tahlia’s not sure. Having become friends with Tessa changed something inside Tahlia. Before, she was traveling with her guardians, making her way to the Hoh Lanarre like a good little puppet. Fulfilling her role. Doing her duty.

  Now Tahlia feels as though there is more to her life. Mainly choice.

  “What thoughts do you have?” Drek asks, studying her face.

  Tahlia doesn’t mince words. “Whether I belong in this pack. Tanya has been sent home in shame?” She phrases her words like a question, her hand trailing in the water, making a pathway with the bubbles.

  “Yes. Neil has seen to that.”

  Neil. Tahlia rummages through her mental catalog for the Were, and when she finds a memory of him, she makes a face of distaste. “He is one of the Were who hit us.”

  Drek’s chin lifts. “He is normally a trustworthy Were.”

  “Alpha, though.” Tahlia’s voice slides to a thoughtful note. “Neil would take your position if he could, Drek.”

  Inclining his head, Drek says, “Keep your enemies closest.”

  An old saying. One that Tahlia believes in. “What of Bowen?”

  Drek grins, a flash of teeth that leaves his face softer, younger. “He is practically my whelpmate.” Giving a small shake of his head, Drek continues, “I could leave and not return to the Hoh for a long period, and it would be as though I never left, with Bowen minding the pack.”

  Tahlia doesn’t think so. She’s scented the unrest, but she remains silent.

  Drek says confidently, “When we are joined, all will improve. You will see.”

  She searches his eyes, finding only sincerity, no guile, within his gaze. But that doesn’t make Tahlia feel better. Her mind returns again and again to the greeting she and Tessa received. It was harsh—and not respectful of their standing as females. She can’t fault the common Were who could not smell her royal blood.

  But once they became aware that Tahlia might be royal, the males did nothing to explore if she truly was or not. They acted.

  Mindlessly. Recklessly.

  Now she has a bad taste in her mouth. No one can take back what’s occurred, not even Drek. “I need time,” she finally says.

  Drek frowns. “There is nothing I can say that will make amends for the bad conduct of a handful of my guards when I was absent, seeking my missing chosen. They have been punished. Tanya has been banished.” Drek tosses a dismissive hand behind him. “My sister has been dealt with.”

  “By me,” Tahlia inserts, hiking her eyebrows.

  He nods, that vague smile ghosting his lips then vanishing. “Yes. Most assuredly.”

  “I don’t know anyone here. Trust anyone. The only Were I trust right now is Tessa. And she’s gone. She fled because it wasn’t safe for her and her mate to remain.”

  Drek’s lips curl in a condescending way she’s not likely to ever warm up to. “He is demonic.”

  “And he saved you,” Tahlia retorts. She’s been made aware of what happened.

  Drek stands, looking down at her, spreading his heavily muscled arms wide. “After Blood Sacrifice was served, Lazarus was released, as promised.”

  Tahlia’s been circling a realization as they talked. She did not consciously think to test Drek, but her happiness has more value than it once did, even more value than her duty.

  “I want to find her. Tessa.”

  Drek locks eyes with her, placing his large hands at his hips. “That is not possible.”

  “Why?” Tahlia asks, eyes narrowing on the handsome Lanarre prince. “Because you say so? Or because us setting after Tessa would bring her to harm.”

  “Both.” He shrugs.

  Tahlia shakes her head. “I want time to get to know you. Get comfortable in my new den.” She’s stalling and can’t lie to herself about why. Tahlia just knows if she could but speak with Tessa, she could get some clearer counsel. Right now, she feels very uncertain.

  “So you commit yourself to me?” Drek asks softly, and she can see the proof of his arousal standing between his legs.

  It would be awful to be male, and that obvious in their own process of lust.

  Tahlia doesn’t answer directly. “I commit myself to the possibility. But I want more time to explore our potential union.”

  “Explore?” Drek echoes, clearly on the insulted side of puzzled.

  Tahlia understands that Drek has probably never been told no by any female. And as a Lanarre prince, any female dog would pant to do his bidding.

  Tahlia is no dog, though.

  Sitting up within the bathtub, she keeps her nipples barely under the waterline and glares at Drek.

  He scowls. That he doesn’t understand her hesitancy bothers her.

  Tahlia can’t just instantly get over what’s happened. She needs time and space. She needs to properly grieve the loss of her guardians and feel gratitude that she escaped Tony Laurent. She wants to feel like less of a commodity meant solely to save a failing pack by joining Drek.

  At this point, Tahlia thinks that Drek would have taken her or Tanya. If she is to stay, she must be utterly convinced that Drek wants her as his chosen, and not because of Were politics or convention.

  Just a few short weeks ago, those thoughts weren’t in the forward part of her brain. She was reared to understand nothing but her place in Were hierarchy.

  Now she knows there is an entire world filled with degrees of living.

  Instead of speaking her entire mind, Tahlia believes she has a solution. “We can be a traveling dignitary, right?”

  “Of course.” Drek leans back in the chair.

  Tahlia realizes the water has cooled. She wants to get out but doesn’t want to be naked again in front of Drek. She wants to establish better, more neutral, footing.

  She keeps her eyes on his face, not on the awkward show of the tent in his silky black pants.

  “Let’s travel to the Northwestern,” Tahlia says, naming the first pack that comes to mind that she believes is closest to the Hoh. “We might even find Tessa on the way.”

  Drek gets that smile again. The one that says he’ll humor her. “I wouldn’t think it’d be in my best interests to leave my pack right now.”

  “I thought you said you could leave Bowen for an indefinite time frame and return, and the pack would be as you left it.”

  They stare at each other, and Tahlia’s never been more aware of another of her kind than in that suspended moment of Drek’s scrutiny of her.

  Finally, he nods. “Fine, we can embark on a short journey. But mark me, Tahlia.” Drek’s dark head bends forward, capturing her eyes. “If you hope to delay our joining, that is another matter. However, if you attempt to buy yourself time without the obser
vation of so many here, that, I can abide.”

  Okay, so she wasn’t as subtle as she thought. “I don’t want to be coerced. I’ve already had to fight your sister. How many more Alpha females lie in wait for me? Will I have to prove my standing with their prince?”

  Drek shrugs. “Once you are my mate, those complications will no longer be present.”

  “Obviously, Drek.” It is only the succession to the coveted position of mate that forces Tahlia to fight all females who are Alpha. She anticipated that. It is what it is to be Were.

  She doesn’t ask how many females there are, but Drek supplies the answer to the unspoken question, “We have only five females.”

  Tahlia’s breath slides out on a seemingly endless uncoiling. “In a pack of what—twenty males?”

  Drek gives a curt nod.

  “Those are terrible numbers.”

  He cocks his head. “And yours are better?”

  She nods. “We have an equal number of males to females.”

  Drek lifts a massive shoulder. “You are blessed. Do you have any idea how rare females of our kind are?”

  Yes. So why must we fight one other? “Of course,” she replies stiffly.

  “Then you would understand what a gift the time would be?”

  Tahlia does. But maybe Drek doesn’t understand how wretched her life’s been since her guardians died.

  How utterly alone she has felt.

  Tahlia would give much to speak with Tessa again. She will speak with her again. “I do understand, Drek.”

  He stands, towering over her. Flicking his chin toward the remainder of food, Drek says, “Finish all of it. Tonight, we have a feast in your honor. Tomorrow, we will travel.”

  His dark eyes soften, and leaning over, he cups her chin like she’s made of glass. “And you will witness firsthand my regard for you.”

  Tahlia almost believes him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Julia

  A vague sense of unease follows Julia toward the place that Lachlan and the other Fey insist is thin between realms.

  Scott is tense. It’s in the set of his body and travels through their meld.

  Intellectually, they both understand there is no other option. Whatever the discomfort it causes Julia, she’s too important to the Singers, and apparently, a ton of other groups, to not make an exhaustive attempt to heal herself from the spore.