Werewolf U

by Brenna Lyons

  "Yes. Perhaps. Samara will have to stay here for the next day or two. After that, she will need a week of recovery time in her rooms."

  "Then we stay here, too," Jason decreed before James could.

  "Of course," the doctors replied in unison.

  * * * *

  Sebastian smiled at Pietro over his glass of wine. "She is beautiful." The photos his men brought him over the years didn't do justice to the woman Samara had become.

  "I hear she also has the temperament of an Alpha female."

  "I knew she would. Human though her mother was, the woman had spirit." He still loved that about her, though he loathed the woman in general. She was fine stock to create my daughter, though lacking in other ways, not the least of which is the fact that she's not a wolf.

  Pietro leaned forward. "If it wouldn't be impertinent to ask—"

  "It would." The memories put a damper on his happiness, just as they always had.

  Wisely, Pietro didn't respond. They sat in a pleasant silence, sipping their wine.

  The shout of a warning to halt brought Sebastian's head up in shock, and they both vaulted to their feet, their glasses abandoned on the conference table.

  What in the red hell is this? Human hunters hadn't breached the campus for well over a hundred years, and how would one make it to the administration building without a general alarm being sounded?

  He couldn't. It's impossible.

  "N-need the Alpha M-Maestro," a young woman stammered out.

  Pietro made it to the door two steps before Sebastian did. He wrenched the door open, and the young lady rushed toward them. Pietro dodged left, and Sebastian took his cue, dodging right. If this was some kind of attack, they would have her flanked.

  She came to a halt an arm's length away from both, which left Sebastian staring at a frightened she-wolf. Worse, the youngster was holding a bloodied blade, and her hands and dress were stained with the same.

  "What happened, Eva?" Pietro asked.

  Eva? Samara's den sister. He could see the likeness to her father in her.

  "Christiana attacked Samara with this. I think…" She sobbed. "I think it's a…" It seemed she couldn't force the words out.

  Sebastian focused on the blade, his blood running cold. "A Hunter's Fang." But they were outlawed within the wolf community. He had passed that law personally, his first decree as Alpha.

  Eva threw the blade onto the table with a whimper of distress. She backed away from it, trembling and sobbing.

  Sebastian made it to her first; he wrapped an arm around her, supporting Eva to the far end of the table. "Where is Samara? Is she well?" With a Hunter's Fang stained with blood? The more appropriate question would be "Is she alive?" Sebastian couldn't face asking it.

  "James and Jason took her to the clinic. Her arm. Christiana sliced into her arm."

  Even that could kill, but not if they got her there quickly enough. He released her and turned toward the doorway, but Eva's whisper stopped him short.

  "She aimed for Samara's throat. Night Mother, what was she thinking?"

  Sebastian didn't turn back, trying to hide his shifting features as best he could. "I want Marcus here. Now! And I want that bitch gone within a day."

  "It will be done."

  He loped away toward the clinic, his vision red in bloodlust. Wolves gave him a wide berth as he passed.

  Damned right, it will be done and no one will dare try again. I made those abominations illegal. Now I'm going to make that law hurt.

  Chapter Four

  Sebastian sat brooding in one of the wing chairs set before the fire in his residence den. He'd been to see Samara twice and nothing had changed so far. His daughter lay unconscious and lightly fevering, her breathing shallow but stable.

  She could be dead. If Samara was slower or less skilled, she would be dead.

  He raked a hand through his hair. A Hunter's Fang. How lost have I been in my misery that a wolf dared balk me and keep one of those abominations? Are there more of them? A show of force was warranted.

  The polite knock at the door put his nerves on edge. "Yes?"

  "Marcus is here, Sebastian."

  "Thank you, Roberto. Show him in."

  Sebastian knew Roberto would have left Marcus waiting in the sitting room. That meant he had plenty of time to get to his desk before Roberto opened the door and waved Marcus through it.

  He strode through as if he had not a care in the world. Then he bowed sharply.

  Not cordially.

  "You called for me, Alpha?"

  At least he didn't presume to use my given name. In his current state of mind, Sebastian might leave scars if Marcus displayed such presumption. "Yes. I did. I need to speak to you about several issues."

  Marcus moved toward one of the guest chairs.

  "Did I say you should sit?"

  He jerked to a halt. "No, Alpha. Of course not."

  "This is not a business meeting. Neither is it a friendly chat. Make no mistake. This day may mark the end of your den, Marcus. Tread lightly but honestly with me."

  If I learn your daughter knew what the weapon was, she dies today. Though it pained Sebastian to take a wolf's only child away, some crimes required that punishment. Moreover, if I learn you knew of the existence of the weapon, you will die.

  Marcus went pale. "Alpha? What have we done?"

  "Your daughter tried to take the life of her Class Alpha today."

  He ground his teeth. "The Alpha. I should have known. I have heard nothing but complaints about the Alpha from my daughter in the last week."

  Sebastian tensed at the implied criticism of Samara.

  Marcus waved him off. "Not that I am excusing my daughter's behavior. If you and Pietro say this…Samara Tyler is Alpha female, I trust your judgment." He hesitated. "But… Why have we never heard of this Alpha before? Where was she schooled? Whose line does she come from?"

  His frustration set Sebastian off. Before he could talk himself down, his ears, eyes, paws, and muzzle had shifted.

  Marcus shuffled back a step, then dropped to his hands and knees in a sign of submission.

  My reaction told Marcus what Samara is to me. He knows now. He knows only my own blood would make me lose control this way.

  "You need not know the details of my daughter's life," Sebastian informed him. What his pack would assume was shameful enough. They didn't need to know the whole sordid truth. Only Samara needs the awful truth. When she is ready to ask for it.

  He forced himself to shift back, but it cost him in effort. "This is not to be shared, Marcus. Not even with your daughter." If you live that long.

  "Yes, Alpha. My daughter will be dealt with. I assure you, she will."

  "She will indeed. At the least, Christiana is no longer welcome at this university or at any of the ones I sit on the board of."

  Marcus was silent, probably working his way to the fact that Sebastian sat on the board of three of the five wolf universities worldwide. Since it was a safe bet Christiana didn't speak Japanese, he'd just proclaimed she would have to attend university in northern Norway, above the Arctic Circle.

  Hope you like snow, Christiana.

  He nodded. "I understand. It is most fair of you."

  "She will be leaving campus with you tonight, Marcus. Pietro has already ordered her packed out to leave. That is assuming, of course, that she survives my judgment."

  Marcus snapped his head up, his eyes wild at the bluntly-stated threat to his daughter. "Alpha, surely nothing Christiana could have done would really en—"

  "Stand. I want you to look me in the eyes when you answer my questions, and may the Night Mother have mercy on you if you lie to me."

  Marcus made his way shakily to his feet. He nodded, his expression strained.

  Sebastian pulled the blood-stained blade from the towel on his desk. He held it between them.

  "That's—"

  "A Hunter's Fang. I am well aware of what it is."

  "Christiana used—"
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  "Yes, she did. So, I am sure you can understand the severity of this crime."

  "Is she well? Your daughter? Samara?" He tripped over his words, nearly in a panic.

  Sebastian shot him a quelling look.

  "I-I mean…" He swallowed hard, going red in the face.

  "Samara is alive. Thank the Night Mother for that favor. Had your daughter's blow bit skin at her intended target, my daughter would be dead now." Marcus would know what that meant.

  "Artery, lung, or heart?" Sebastian barely heard him.

  "Throat."

  Marcus winced.

  Sebastian dropped the dagger, letting it clatter to the desktop. He savored Marcus's cringe. I have him where I want him. He won't dare lie to me now.

  "I am sure you are aware of the laws governing a Hunter's Fang."

  Marcus nodded. "I swear I knew nothing about it."

  "Then where did your daughter get it? Since she is an inept fighter, I assume she didn't take one off a hunter personally."

  "I can ask, but I suspect—"

  "You suspect what? Who? Where did she get a Hunter's Fang?"

  Marcus sighed, then rubbed a hand over his mouth. "My father didn't want to give up his collection. When the new law was announced…he resisted turning them over. I turned in five of his blades for destruction."

  Sebastian's stomach churned. "Five?" He hadn't realized anyone had an arsenal of that size.

  "It was all I could find. My father swore I'd found them all. He cursed me out of his house. We never spoke again." He shifted from foot to foot, as if he felt the need to pace.

  Sebastian wasn't in a giving mood. "You believe your father gave Christiana the blade before he died?"

  "Perhaps not intentionally. You see, my father left me nothing. Everything was left to Christiana and to my sister, Aubree. I checked everything that came into my home, but my father was fond of false-bottomed drawers and trunks, hidden compartments… Anywhere he could hide his prized possessions. I believe the blades came to my daughter hidden in some larger piece of furniture. He was addled near the end. He may not have remembered where the blades were stored or that he'd hidden some from me at all."

  "In other words, you're guessing."

  "Yes, damn it! I'm also guessing Christiana didn't know what the weapon was. To her, it would have been nothing more than an impressive piece of workmanship."

  That was likely true. Since Marcus didn't own one, and the law was passed before their daughters were born, Christiana may never have learned about them.

  Sebastian took a calming breath. "Get the answers from your daughter, Marcus."

  "I will, Alpha."

  "Have her off this campus and away from Samara before sunrise, but do not leave without giving me the answers I'm seeking."

  "You have my vow on that." He was gone without a backward glance.

  Roberto appeared in the doorway. "Samara has awakened, Sebastian. Steven reports that she is still fevering and is quite befuddled, but the wound is healing well."

  His muscles relaxed in a rush of released breath. "Good. Thank you, Roberto."

  He left silently, as he had done for years.

  Since he was my servant here at university.

  Sebastian laid his head back, exhausted. All these years, he'd pined away at the loss of his daughter, at the stolen chance to be a father to her. A week with Samara at the periphery of his life, and he wasn't certain how parents survived decades in the role.

  * * * *

  "Can we do anything for her?" a deep male voice asked.

  Samara licked her lips, trying to place it. For that matter, she tried to make sense of where she was and why.

  No dice. I can't think of anything, roasting as I am. She pushed the sheets and blanket away, trying to cool off.

  "Tepid water. Bathe her face, arms, legs… Let's bring this fever back down."

  "Right."

  One soft cloth started at her forehead, worked down her face to her chin, then caressed her throat. Another slid down the inside of one thigh.

  Male musk surrounded her and Samara arched up to their touch. There was a moment of stillness, and their scent intensified.

  "Get out," one of them ordered.

  Footsteps moved away, and a door closed with a click of metal on metal. Water rippled and splashed.

  The cloth on her face returned and traced the path down the opposite side. She spread her legs, and the other worked its way from the opposite knee to nearly her core.

  All manner of erotic visions paraded through her head.

  * * * *

  Jason shivered. Damn, this is hard. For that matter, he was hard and had been for the better part of the week since he'd first scented Samara. I am getting a ferocious case of blue balls.

  Stop thinking about it! This is for her health and safety. Bathe her. Bring down the fever.

  That in mind, Jason refreshed his rag and started bathing her head and neck again. Droplets of water fell on her clinic gown, turning the lightweight material translucent.

  Samara shifted every time a droplet fell. She gasped at the first time one landed on a nipple.

  Jason stared at the erect tip, his breathing ragged.

  "Do it." James rasped.

  Jason snapped his head around, issuing a silent question. James couldn't be telling him to suck it into his mouth. Not while Samara is semiconscious.

  "Bathe her. Through the shirt. Don't undress her, but help her shed the heat…everywhere."

  Which will mean she'll be as good as nude. He nodded. Samara needed wetting down to reduce the fever. There's a reason we're doing this instead of the doctors.

  Jason left the rag sopping and started working it down her chest. The gown stuck to her body, outlining every curve.

  Pass after pass with the rag prompted moans from Samara. She arched her back, offering herself to him.

  To us. She's as affected by what James is doing as she is by what I'm doing. He didn't doubt that.

  His cock pressed tight to his jeans, weeping fluids that would ease him inside her body.

  Samara cried out and Jason looked toward James's position. His brother had done the same job of wetting Samara down on her lower half. That meant they could see every inch of her, from a front view.

  They say Alpha females are created in the Night Mother's image. I know Samara must be.

  James leaned over her and Jason prepared to warn him off. No matter how enticing she was, they couldn't take advantage of her blind lust.

  His brother didn't put his mouth on her. Instead, he blew air over her core, bringing Samara off the bed with a whimper.

  "It's an old trick for keeping cool," James explained. "Wrap yourself in wet linen or cotton, then blow air over the fabric to draw off heat."

  Jason swallowed hard. He leaned down and breathed on her throat. Samara shivered, and her scent took on a potent edge. Jason moved on to her shoulders and then her nipples.

  She grabbed him by the head and dragged Jason's lips to hers. Samara parted her lips and invited him in.

  I can't deny her this.

  James didn't protest it. His twin moved up Samara's body, trailing his lips over her abdomen, blowing puffs of air over her sensitive skin.

  Jason eased out of the kiss and made way for James to share in the taste of her passion. At the first breath James released against her cheek, Samara turned to him and pulled him into a similar embrace.

  Goddess, that's sexy. Visions of her touching them had his cock screaming for more. Jason reached down and adjusted himself. He seriously considered stroking himself off.

  James pushed to his knees. "Help me get her up."

  "You're not—"

  "No! I want you to bathe her back. Besides…" He smiled. "I want her to feel us on either side of her.

  Jason hurried to help him. In moments, Samara was astride James's thighs, Jason sliding his knees between his twin's.

  When Jason set to work bathing her back, Samara started shifting back and
forth over James's cock. He hurried through the rest of the bathing, watching the curve of her ass appear through the dripping hospital gown. He stared, rapt, at the interplay of muscles as she rode his brother.

  At the edges of self-control, Jason pressed to Samara's back. She went still for a moment and he held his breath. Had they pushed her too far too fast?

  Samara moaned and pressed back against him, swiveling her hips. James moved closer, and she stroked up and down their erections.

  "That's right," James whispered. "Get used to the feeling of us."

  "Yes." She breathed her reply into James's chin. She moved faster, grinding into them. "Yes." Samara tensed, and her scent went straight to Jason's head. She shouted incoherently.

  She came. It was all Jason could do not to come in his jeans in response.

  "Next time will be inside you," Jason promised.

  Samara nodded weakly, her head sinking toward James's chest.

  "Do you want us to sleep with you?" Jason offered. Please, say yes.

  Another nod.

  Jason lowered her to the bed, then brushed a kiss across her lips. He lay down to her right, facing her on the wide bed.

  James did the same, then settled to her left.

  Samara cupped a hand over Jason's cock. By the way James tensed, Jason guessed she did the same to his brother.

  Oh, yes. She wants us.

  Not to mention, she feels cooler.

  * * * *

  The knock on the door was undoubtedly Roberto again. It's unlikely to be news about Samara. Updates had already informed him that her fever had spiked dangerously high but James and Jason had brought it down again. The latest reports were that she was past the danger of complications—her breathing, heart rate, and the swelling in her arm all greatly improved—and sleeping soundly with her mates.

  That means it's Marcus's answer. I need to hear it, whatever it is. But he admitted to himself that the idea of killing one or more of his pack members exhausted him.

  "Yes?"

  "Marcus has returned, Sebastian."

  "Show him up."

  Sebastian went through the formality of moving to his desk.