Shadow Wolf: A Shifter Romance (Arctic Brotherhood, Book 2)

by Jane Godman

  Because Shadow Wolves were so rare, their young were even more scarce. And not all Shadow Born were evil. Lowell had only been able to cite a few instances of the destructive power of the Shadow Born. But there were one or two stories of the unexplained annihilation of a pack. And it was possible that these were the work of a Shadow Born werewolf. Scale those up, turn those powers for devastation onto a whole species as Chastel wanted to do with the Arctic werewolves . . .

  I have that power within me, but that doesn’t mean he can make me use it. She clenched her fists. The problem was, she had no idea what she could or couldn’t do. Or what Chastel would be able to make her do. Valetta believed she was a strong person, but how would she cope if she were put to the test by a ruthless bounty hunter like Chastel? More questions to which she had no answers.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the return of Samson, Madden, and Sebastian. They were naked and disheveled, but appeared uninjured. Samson was dragging an Arctic werewolf by the scruff of its neck. Valetta resisted the impulse to launch herself across the tiled floor and into his arms.

  “What happened?”

  “We won, of course.” His tone was arrogant, but there was warm reassurance in his eyes that calmed some of her nervousness. Throwing the werewolf down onto the marble-tiled floor, Samson crouched beside it. “In the time it takes me to get some clothes on, you, my friend, had better have shifted back and be ready to start talking.”

  While the three brotherhood members left the room, Valetta studied the werewolf. She had seen it before and recognized its scent. A shudder of revulsion ran through her. Samson had brought Konrad here to question him, but would he talk? When they heard footsteps outside the kitchen door, the wolf shifted into human form. Apparently Konrad was taking Samson’s threats seriously.

  Samson entered the room with Madden and Sebastian in his wake. He nodded approvingly at Konrad and tossed him a towel. “Cover yourself. There are ladies present.”

  While Konrad wrapped the towel around his waist, Valetta glanced at Cindy to see how she was responding to the sudden intrusion of so much male nakedness into the kitchen. The other woman seemed frozen into the same position she had been in when the brotherhood members had first returned.

  Samson spoke to Hendrik. “This is Konrad. He was leading the gang known as the Guardians of Hati when they first arrived in this area. They were responsible for sending the threats to you. When Valetta went to investigate, he immediately handed over leadership of the gang to her.”

  Hendrik turned to Valetta in shock. “You went to see them? Alone?”

  “I thought they were going to kill you.” He didn’t speak. Instead, he placed an arm around her shoulders and held her close to him.

  Samson continued. “Konrad, as he calls himself, is now going to explain who he really is and what he is actually doing here.”

  Konrad cast a sullen glance around. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It was obvious he wanted to be more defiant, but the presence of four larger Arctic males was clearly a deterrent.

  Samson reached out a hand and placed it around his throat. With seemingly very little effort, he lifted the other man off the ground and held him so that they were face-to-face. Samson’s biceps bulged at the same time as Konrad’s face reddened.

  “I’m not feeling very patient.” Samson ignored Konrad’s fingers as they clawed wildly at his hand. He kept his voice light and conversational. “Last time the Brotherhood of the Midnight Sun met, we were led by a man called Wilder. He has a technique for dealing with reluctant prisoners. It’s not nice, but it does work. Tell him about it, Madden.”

  “Oh, you mean the one where he rips off their balls?” Madden used the same chatty tone.

  “That’s the one.”

  Konrad made a sound like a strangled frog.

  “And stuffs them down their throat?”

  “I’ve seen him do that.” Sebastian joined in. He shook his head. “Of course, they can’t talk at all once he does that.”

  “I don’t want to make a mess in Hendrik’s nice kitchen, but I’m not feeling very patient.” He lowered Konrad so that his feet were on the floor, but kept his hand around the other man’s throat. “So here’s the deal. You start talking and I don’t have to get blood all over my friend’s Italian marble–tiled floor.”

  Konrad nodded frantically and Samson released him. The other man dropped to his knees, clawing at his throat and gasping.

  “Shall I get him some water?” Remembering her housekeeping role, Cindy was shaken out of her trancelike state.

  “He’s being dramatic,” Samson said. His face hardened again as he looked back at Konrad. “Get up. I’m waiting for your explanation.”

  Konrad got to his feet. Casting a look of pure venom in Samson’s direction, he massaged his throat one last time. When he spoke, there was a definite croak in his voice. “You have already named the man who sent me here. He is Jean Chastel.”

  Valetta gripped the edge of the counter. Hard. So Lowell’s theory had been right. She was the prey of the greatest bounty hunter of them all. “And your real name is Jacques Denis.”

  Konrad’s eyes flickered over to her and he inclined his head in acknowledgment. “It was once. I have not used that name in a long time.”

  “I don’t understand this.” Valetta frowned. “You are a werewolf. Why would you help Chastel, when he has sworn to rid the world of werewolves?”

  Konrad’s lip curled. “That is because you cannot comprehend the power of my master.”

  “Help us out,” Samson invited. “Tell us all about the great Chastel.”

  It seemed those words were exactly what Konrad needed to open up. His eyes glowed with a fanatical light and his voice took on a new, worshipful inflection that made Valetta even more uncomfortable. “Most people have never heard of Jean Chastel. A few know of him as the great hunter who killed the Beast of Gévaudan. Soon, everyone will know his name. He will forever be revered as the savior who rid the earth of the curse of the werewolf.”

  Valetta wanted to cry out, But you are a werewolf! Before she could speak, Hendrik gripped her wrist. The message in her father’s eyes was clear: Let him talk.

  “When he was born, no one knew he was destined for greatness. His family was poor and he tended sheep. That was when his hatred for wolves began. Time after time, he saw the damage those monstrous creatures could do with their fangs and claws. Many was the dawn he heard his father’s curses as another lamb was slaughtered in the night by the evil beasts. Then, a werewolf began to stalk his island home. But there was a way to fight and win. Back in the time when magic was real and the veil between this world and the next was thinner, there was always a way.” Konrad’s expression was distant and gloating. Valetta sensed he was recounting a story he had been told many times by someone else. “Chastel found a wise woman on his island who introduced him to the ways of the ancient sorcerers. From that time on, he has made it his mission to fight against the curse of the werewolf.”

  “And you were an easy recruit because the Beast of Gévaudan killed your sister.”

  Briefly, Konrad seemed to rouse himself out of his obsessive focus on Chastel. At Valetta’s reminder, his face crumpled. “She was fourteen. The beast preyed on those who were alone and helpless.” And Chastel preyed on you, because you were grieving. Valetta didn’t say the words aloud. She didn’t need to state the obvious.

  “Right, you’ve done a good PR job for Chastel. We are prepared to be awed and dumbstruck when we meet him,” Samson said. “Now explain how you came to be a werewolf, why this whole Guardians of Hati charade came about, and what is supposed to happen once your master gets his greedy hands on Valetta.”

  “My master needed to be sure that she”—Konrad’s insolent stare ran over Valetta’s body, all pretense at submissiveness gone now—“was really the one he sought. Although he wasn’t sure, he believed a Shadow Wolf had come this far north and infiltrated the home of an Arctic werewolf. When he made
inquiries, it seemed the only possible host was Hendrik Rickard. Once Chastel knew that Rickard had a daughter, he became intrigued by the possibility that she was Shadow Born. But it proved impossible to find out more by watching her from a distance. He decided I was to recruit a group of young males to form a gang. But, of course, they would only trust me if I was one of them.”

  “You accepted a werewolf bite at your master’s command? Your loyalty does you credit.” Madden’s voice was incredulous.

  Konrad’s lip curled contemptuously. “Typical werewolf arrogance. You think you know everything. Have I not already said that my master became proficient in the art of sorcery at an early age? This is an illusion, gone as soon as Chastel chooses to strip me of this disguise.”

  Madden was so fast Valetta barely saw him move. In an instant, he was up close, invading the other man’s space. “Speak to me like that again, and you’ll find out exactly what a werewolf bite feels like just before it takes your fucking head off.”

  Konrad lowered his eyes. “In my anxiousness I may have spoken hastily.”

  Madden exhaled slowly. “Yeah? Well, you’d just better hope your beloved master isn’t too busy dealing with us to get a chance to reverse the spell he’s put on you.”

  A startled look came into Konrad’s eyes. It was clear that aspect of the situation had never occurred to him. Valetta couldn’t help biting back a smile.

  Samson waved an impatient hand. “Carry on. How did getting Valetta to lead your gang enable you to see her any differently?”

  “The Shadow Born have reserves of strength beyond that of other werewolves. I was to put her through a series of tests and observe how she coped with them.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “Hunger, sleep deprivation, fighting other gangs, organizing the chaos of the Guardians, preventing them from doing harm to civilians . . .” He gave a grudging shrug. “She passed all those tests.”

  “And all the while you were reporting back to Chastel?” Konrad nodded. “So he is nearby?”

  A shifty look came into the other man’s eyes. “I am always in contact with him.”

  “Good, because we need to speak to him next,” Samson said. “Having decided Valetta passes all his little tests, what happens next?”

  “Then she will fulfill the role she was always meant for. She will destroy the Arctic species.” Konrad smiled. “That will be her first task. The destruction of the other werewolves will follow.”

  It didn’t matter how much Valetta told herself she wouldn’t be used for Chastel’s evil purposes. Just hearing those words out loud in Konrad’s flat, clipped voice made the world swim slightly out of focus. All the while, she was aware of Hendrik’s concerned gaze on her face, of the anger in Samson’s expression, of Cindy’s eyes widening like saucers. “We’ll skip the part where I say ‘like fuck she will’ and pound you into a pulp—for now—so that you can explain how exactly Chastel means to make that happen.” There was restrained fury in Samson’s words.

  “Details are unimportant. My master wills it, that means it will happen.” The arrogance was back as Konrad surveyed them.

  “I’ve had enough of this little shit telling us how great his master is.” Sebastian prowled toward Konrad. “Can we kill him now?”

  “Unfortunately not. I’m not finished with him yet.” There was genuine regret in Samson’s voice. “So, back to my question of yesterday. What was the meeting you called and where did you all get to while Valetta and I were out of the compound?”

  Konrad shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now. The master called us together and then we came here to reconnoiter the place to be ready for an attack.”

  “Chastel called you together? He was there in the compound?” Valetta could tell Samson shared her anger that they might have missed a chance to confront Chastel.

  “No. The master does not need to be physically present to communicate with his followers.” That fitted with the mind-control theory Samson had put forward.

  “Why weren’t Pavel and Axel included?”

  “They were too new. We couldn’t be sure of them until the master had completed their induction.”

  “So who did kill Pavel?”

  Konrad’s smile was chilling. “I did. I came back and scouted the compound before allowing the others to enter. I heard you questioning Pavel, so I killed him before he could tell you anything. Of course I knew it would make you suspicious that he had died without the midnight sun.” He shrugged. “But you were suspicious anyway.”

  Samson eyed him with contempt. “That was it? That was all you were worried about? Not that a kid had died at your hand?” Konrad stared back without blinking and Samson shook his head in disgust. “Where and when was Chastel born?”

  Konrad drew himself up to his full height and replied proudly, “On an island, more centuries ago than your meager minds can comprehend.”

  “You let him go.” Valetta stood with her back to him, but the rigidity of her frame told Samson everything he needed to know about her mood.

  “I had to.” He came to stand just behind her. “We need Konrad to go back to Chastel and tell him we’re coming for him.”

  She swung around to face him and, despite her anger, he was overwhelmed with the longing to take her into his arms. The memory of how she had felt when he’d held her, when she’d been warm and wet and quivering at his touch, was fresh in his mind. He could see in her eyes she was remembering it, too. But he knew Valetta well enough by now to know she wasn’t going to give in to her feelings and admit it.

  Sure enough, her eyes flashed gold fire. “You didn’t ask my opinion. It’s my life on the line here. I’d have thought that might merit the courtesy of an inclusion in the decision-making process.”

  “You’re right, I should have asked you.”

  His capitulation took the wind out of her sails and her stance relaxed slightly. “What happens next?”

  “We have to go to Ulu.”

  The muscles in her throat worked. “I don’t know if I can.”

  Samson caught hold of her upper arms, drawing her closer. “You must. We have to find out the truth about your origins. Everything. And that’s the only place we can do it. But it’s time to bring in reinforcements.”

  She wrinkled her brow as she looked up at him. “The brotherhood?”

  “The seven strongest and bravest Arctic werewolves. I called them as soon as Konrad appeared outside.”

  “The way my dad talked about it, I always thought the brotherhood was some sort of elite boys’ club.”

  “I’m not a boy, Valetta.”

  The words changed something in the atmosphere between them, made it just that little bit harder to breathe. Samson was acutely aware of the distance between them. Mere inches, the space between his body and hers started to crackle with its own intensity. Valetta’s eyes moved to his lips, the message in them clear. She wanted him to kiss her. Samson was supposed to be resisting her, only right at this minute he couldn’t for the life of him remember why.

  He licked his lips. “I’m trying not to . . .”

  To hell with this. Valetta let out a soft cry as he jerked her into his arms. She might have been startled, but she recovered fast. As soon as their lips met, her hands were reaching for the buttons on his shirt, moving inside and shoving it down off his shoulders. At the same time, Samson was trying to fit as much of her into his hands as he could. It wasn’t easy, she was so fired up she squirmed wildly against him, her whole body hot and demanding. He caught her by the hips, holding her still, moving one hand up under her sweatshirt to skim the curve of her waist before moving higher to span the underside of her breast. Her skin was like heated velvet under his palm. Valetta’s soft whimpers were driving him to the point of insanity. His cock was pressed up against her, hard and throbbing, demanding attention.

  Valetta pulled away from him long enough to say. “Don’t tell me we can’t.”

  His memories came back with the force of a speeding bullet. He thought of Anna. Of t
he centuries he’d spent missing her, longing for her, telling himself he would never, ever do this because it would be a betrayal of everything they’d had. Right now, gazing into Valetta’s eyes, her flesh warm against his palm, he couldn’t summon up the strength to pull away. This is sex. It’s not love. The two things are very, very different. Right now, he needed sex with Valetta more than he needed to breathe. His cock gave another insistent jerk as though giving that message an approving Hell, yeah. Slowly, deliberately, Samson lowered his head, claiming her lips in a kiss that was brutal in its intensity.

  He released his hold on her breast and Valetta huffed out a reproachful complaint. Samson gave a soft laugh as his hands gripped the hem of her sweatshirt and tugged it over her head. Her eyes widened as she recognized the change in his approach. Seconds later, she was naked and being backed up hard until she was against the door. Samson dropped to his knees, lifting her leg over his shoulder and driving his tongue into her before she had time to recover her breath. Her hands clawed wildly at his shoulders, the painful sensation of her nails on his flesh maddeningly good. Withdrawing his tongue, he replaced it with two fingers, thrusting them into her, feeling her grip them eagerly as he sucked her hard. Valetta bucked and writhed above him, but he held her hip tightly with his other hand, keeping her pinned in place. As he felt her start to convulse around his fingers, he hooked them forward, finding the sweet spot that had her crying out and shuddering over and over.

  Getting to his feet, he tore off his shirt and shoved down his jeans. Valetta’s eyes had the look of someone coming down from a high, but she focused as she gazed at his cock. His rock-hard, standing-at-attention cock. When she licked her lips, Samson almost went into orbit. Pressing up against her, the hot, hard skin of his chest burning into the tenderness of her breasts, he gripped her soft buttocks. There was no need for protection. Female werewolves were only fertile in the mating season and, since this was Valetta’s first time and Samson had been celibate for centuries, there was only one question to ask.