by Jane Godman
Her brows pulled together, hard and tight. “Don’t I get a choice in this?”
“Why would you want one?” He appeared genuinely bemused. “This is about making sure the world stays safe.”
Why would she want a choice? For the tiniest instant, she was tempted to tell him, although she had no idea where that temptation came from. Then the familiar feelings of anger and bitterness rose up and she grabbed at them eagerly, pulling them around her like a comfort blanket. Who the hell did he think he was? What gave this man the right to barge into her house and judge her? Just because he had the luxury of deciding he could be noble and fight for a good cause like his precious brotherhood, why did that give him the right to sneer at her?
“I’m sure the next person you approach will be delighted, but it’s not for me.” She got to her feet. “Please close the door on your way out.”
He rose, looming over her. “What happened to you, Amber?” The unexpected gentleness in his voice threw her off balance. “What are you so scared of?”
That was even worse, damn him. No one had ever seen through the barriers she put up. Until now, no one had ever realized that the prickliness was her way of hiding the fear.
“I don’t have to justify myself to you.” To her horror, her voice wobbled on the edge of tears. “Get out.”
When he walked to the door, she didn’t know whether to be relieved or angry. What kind of horrible mess does that make me? That was it? He was going to give up without a fight? Not only on the brotherhood, but also on the attraction between them? Maybe he didn’t feel it as strongly as she did . . .
Clearly he didn’t, since Vigo was already gone.
* * *
Vigo waited in the shelter of a line of white-veiled polar birch trees. The sun shining on snow at midnight would never fail to enchant him. Unlike other werewolves, the moon held no mystical powers for an Arctic werewolf. His own magic came at this time, this perfect moment when the sun refused to surrender its place to the moon causing day and night to merge and become one. Most Arctic werewolves could only shift by the light of the midnight sun. They could also only be killed within its unique glow.
The members of the brotherhood were unique. Angrboda had granted them a great gift. They could shift at any time. When she gave them that power, she had also made them vulnerable. They now had the same susceptibility as other werewolves. They could be destroyed in the same ways. At any time, the members of the brotherhood could be killed by a silver bullet, or silver knife, or by beheading.
The Arctic wind had a vicious bite and Vigo turned his face into it, loving its feel on his skin. This wild, white edge to the world made his blood sing, soothing and exciting him at the same time. The midnight sun bridged the gap between reality and dreaming, its seam lighting the point between land and sky with an endless pyrotechnic display of neon colors. He was on the top of the world, but this was Amber’s world as well as his and the connection between them thrilled through him.
This was a direct line leading from Amber’s cabin. She would come this way. If she went in the other direction, she would be heading toward the other cabins in the compound. He knew she would need to shift and run as a way of relieving all that pent-up emotion. How did he know? Because it was what he needed, too. His own heart was like a ticking time bomb, doing its best to explode out of his chest at any minute. Releasing his inner wolf was the only way he would break free of the tension.
Why the fuck did it have to be her?
After what Gunnar had told him about Amber, he had gone to her cabin prepared for a fight. When she had opened the door, the hit of attraction had almost stopped his heart. He hadn’t known whether to walk away, grab her and march her into the bedroom, or ignore the fizz of lust in his bloodstream and attempt to complete his task.
He had done his best to stay focused, but when he’d touched her his control had snapped. The kiss had been a lapse. A crazy, wonderful, heart-flipping, zipper-threatening lapse. He’d managed to pull himself away and get things back on track long enough to explain why he was there. But every minute had put his willpower under more and more strain. The more hostile Amber became, the more turned on he’d gotten. It had reached the point where he couldn’t think straight. Not with his brain. His dick had taken over, and all he could register was her . . . and how much he wanted her.
Amber was stunning. On the petite side for a female Arctic werewolf, she was five feet six inches of fizzing attitude. Her shorts and tank top had given him a clear view of her exquisite body—her firm, high breasts, killer legs, and tight ass. She had the classic coloring of an Arctic. Her skin was marble pale, her white-blond mass of hair thick and luscious, her eyes pure wolf gold. In contrast, her lashes were long and dark, her brows twin black arches with a slight upward slant. Her features were delicate, but the signs of her inner wolf were there . . . if you knew where to look. Her nose and chin were slightly sharp while her mouth was generous, her lips tantalizingly full. Everything about her tempted him. He wanted to touch her, taste her, hold her so he could feel every inch of that delicious body pressed up against him.
In spite of the fog of desire clouding his reason, he had been able to see beyond Amber’s snapping antagonism. From the first instant of looking into her eyes, he had known everything about her. He could see at once that his mate was terrified. And that set Vigo’s protective instincts to high alert. She needed him, but he didn’t know how to help her. He’d been thrust into this situation. He didn’t want it. Couldn’t do this long term. But he couldn’t ignore the terror he’d seen in the hazel depths of her eyes. She was his, and with that knowledge his life had changed forever. He would do whatever it took to keep her safe, because, where she was concerned, he had no choices. That realization had shaken him so much he’d walked away from it. Not forever. Just long enough to catch his breath.
Which was why he was waiting for her now. Out here in the open she would find it harder to defy him. Amber was an alpha female, but Vigo was an alpha male. Wolf dynamics dictated their status. Her human might fight it, but she was obliged to defer to him. Ultimately, Amber would obey him. It would be easier to get her to accept his strength, his masculinity, and his dominance when they were in wolf form. It shocked him to realize how much he wanted her submission.
More than I want my next breath.
The thought came at the same time as the crunch of paws on hard-packed snow. The white werewolf came into view on the snowy plain beneath his vantage point. Her thick pelt shone pearly in the unusual light. Her strides were effortless, kicking up the powder beneath her feet, coating her fur with a glittery sheen. She passed him in a blur, but Vigo knew he would have no problem catching her. Amber was fast, but she couldn’t match his strength and speed. The thought aroused his inner wolf. Stronger, faster, harder. His male to her female. The way it should be.
Shrugging out of his clothes, Vigo prepared to shift. Normally, he would savor this moment. The feeling of shifting was too amazing to rush. Tonight, he didn’t have time to waste on enjoying the transfer. His wolf energy was a like a charge of spiritual electricity taking over his body. As a werewolf, he existed mentally and in spirit as both wolf and human. Even without shifting, there were facets of his character that were pure wolf. They made him different to the humans around him. Suppressing his wolf for too long felt like hiding half of his personality. Releasing his inner wolf when he shifted was one of the best feelings in the world. Vigo loved the intensity of the moment when his human body stretched into the shape of his wolf.
His skin and muscles burned briefly with the vigor of the feeling and then relaxed into it. He closed his eyes as a man and opened them as a wolf. His body temperature rose and his heart rate kicked up. Every sense was supercharged, including his sense of smell. He tilted his snout toward the pink, orange and blue striped sky. The scent of the female was warm, musky, and delicious. Usually, he gave himself up to his inner wolf, but tonight he wanted his human to retain control of the situation. It
wasn’t easy. The wolf in him was desperate to go after Amber, to claim her here and now. Who was he kidding? His human wanted exactly the same thing. Fighting it would be hard, but he was an expert when it came to conquering addiction.
With a single howl, he broke into a run, his long strides following the tracks of the female.
Chapter Four
Having no need to hunt, the female Arctic was running for pleasure. For the thrill of the biting wind ruffling her thick fur and stinging her nostrils, for her breath pluming warm in front of her, for her claws scraping on the ice beneath the surface layer of powdery snow.
Overhead, the sky was a striation of orange, pink, blue, and purple, each layer vying with the one before for beauty and drama. Light colored the white landscape like a theatrical display. Clouds, lakes and snow-covered mountains were highlighted to perfection. The Svalbard scenery, so dark and cold during the polar day, glowed with warmth under the special effects of the midnight sun.
Her human senses were subdued, but she retained a distant feeling of unease. Her life had tilted off course and she wasn’t sure how to get it back on track. Wasn’t even sure she wanted to . . . and that was the scariest thing of all.
The sound behind her barely had time to register with her. She felt a brief moment of panic and tried to run faster, but the male werewolf was beside her before she could speed up. Her snarl turned to a whimper as he caught her by the fur on the back of her neck, tackling her to the ground. The flare of fear died instantly as she recognized him. Her other senses kicked into overdrive, and she felt a thrill of anticipation. He was her mate. Had he come to claim her? The impulse to fight was swiftly subdued as her wolf instincts took over. Even though her human cried out in protest, she rolled onto her back, presenting her unprotected belly to him in an act of total submission.
Vigo stood over her, breathing hard. Lowering his head, he rested his snout gently against her neck, the gesture reassuring yet, at the same time, at odds with his dominant stance. His touch was light as he nudged her side, indicating he wanted her on her feet. Shivering expectantly, the female obeyed. Lowering her head, she waited for his next move. She had never wanted anything as much as she wanted this. Him. The tremors coursing through her body intensified. His growl was soft and demanding as he placed his head on her shoulder. It was a clear message. She was his. Any time he wanted her.
To her surprise that time wasn’t now. His growl turned to a soft whine of frustration as the magnificent male moved to her side. Crouching low, she rubbed her face against jaw and he proudly accepted the gesture of obedience. When he began to move, she shook off the fog of desire and disappointment and began to run at his side. His message was clear. He wanted her to accompany him. They ran away from the town, following a high ridge. Moving in perfect time with each other, as if they had done this all their lives. The male Arctic was larger and stronger than the female. Beside his powerful frame, she appeared tiny. He was attentive toward her, shortening his long strides to keep pace with hers, slowing when he thought she might be tiring.
Her sensitive nostrils picked up the scent just before she heard the sounds and she stopped. They were approaching his compound, the one where his companions were staying. He was taking her into his pack territory. His body language signaled he wanted her trust, and she had indicated her willingness to give it . . . but this? She hunkered down, pressing her body into the snow and flattening her ears.
Vigo shifted. Naked, he crouched beside her. “Shift, Amber.” It was the voice of command.
She whined and flattened her body further, trying to make herself disappear into the snow.
“Do it.”
She weighed her options. Bite him? Take off into the night? Just keep running into the Svalbard wilderness and hope he couldn’t catch her? But the ties that bound her to him were already too strong. He was her mate and her master. And besides, he would catch her . . .
With a growl of frustration, she shifted. Sprawling naked and face down in the snow didn’t suit her idea of how this conversation should be conducted. She sat, drawing her knees up beneath her chin.
“I don’t want to go there.” She pointed toward the old United Nations compound, the trembling in her hand having nothing to do with the cold.
“I know you don’t, but hear me out.”
It was difficult to do anything except gaze at him. Even squatting beside her, his body was on display. And it was gorgeous, all rippling muscle and coiled strength. His chest and abdomen with their perfectly symmetrical, temptingly ridged muscles heated her insides to a molten mass of longing. His muscular thighs were achingly close. And he was aroused. Enormously, magnificently aroused. Her eyes widened as she studied the unmistakable evidence. She wanted to reach out and touch that glorious, throbbing erection. The temptation to stroke her hand down his shaft and see if it really was as iron hard as it looked was overwhelming. She wanted to run her fingers around the bulging rim, or flick out her tongue and taste the silken flesh of his head.
“Amber, are you listening to me?”
No, I’m sitting in the snow having a wild erotic fantasy about you.
“Um . . . yes.”
“Sometimes we don’t get to choose the course our life is going to take. Five years ago, I was experiencing the same feelings you are right now.” I really don’t think so. “When a man called Gunnar asked me to join the brotherhood, I was so shocked I thought he’d got the wrong person.” He laughed, his expression lightening, making him appear suddenly younger. “I still think that now and then. My life changed completely that day.” His voice altered, became softer and huskier. “And it changed again yesterday . . . when I saw you.”
Amber pushed the curtain of her hair back from her face. “Are you trying to tell me that the two things are linked?” She drew a breath, deciding to confront the issue head-on. There was no point pretending. “How I feel about you, and this brotherhood you talked about?”
“I don’t know, but we’re here now. All I’m asking is that you come into the compound with me and meet the other members of the brotherhood.”
She shook her head. “I don’t do socializing.”
He smiled. “This will be easy. You are already a member of the team.”
There it was again. That tug of longing. The need for acceptance and belonging. The wolf within her cried out to be part of a pack. Her human urged caution. She bit her lip, seeking a delaying tactic. “I’m naked.”
“I noticed. It’s driving me crazy.” He rose, leaning down and holding out a hand to help her to her feet. “For the sake of my sanity, we’ll stop at my cabin and get us both some clothes.”
* * *
Being alone with Amber was testing Vigo’s self-control to its limits. Being alone with Amber when they were both naked was the worst torture imaginable. No matter how much he told himself nothing was going to happen, his body kept sending him other—very insistent—messages. And the lack of clothing meant there was no hiding place for an erection like a flagpole.
Vigo was no stranger to arousal. He had been in too many situations during which sex had taken over his better judgment. But this took passion to a whole new level. Because she is mine. His mind and body were in agreement on that score. Amber belonged to him. Anything that had happened in his past was second-rate compared to what he was feeling right now.
But he couldn’t let this storm of emotion take over, couldn’t succumb to the crushing desire to take her into his arms and claim her. Because all the old reasons were still there, just waiting to rear their ugly heads. He couldn’t share his life with another person, not even Amber, the one the fates had chosen to be his mate. The reason was simple. How could he expect another person to deal with his past when he wasn’t able to do it himself? This sweet, frightened, cranky werewolf didn’t deserve the hand fate had dealt her.
She doesn’t deserve to have me inflicted on her.
Even so, he had meant what he said to Amber up on the ridge. His life had changed the i
nstant he saw her. And he knew it had been the same for her. He just had to figure out a way to make sure that change didn’t cause her any harm. Or any more harm, because it was clear something had already damaged Amber.
Vigo led Amber into the compound and around the back of the group of cabins until they reached the one in which he was staying. It was small and comfortable, just a bedroom with an en suite bathroom. He had traveled light and didn’t have many spare clothes. Pulling open his bag, he found a pair of jeans and dragged them on, glad to be able to cover his nakedness.
“These will be way too big.” He tossed sweatpants and a T-shirt to Amber. “But they’re all I have.”
She grabbed them eagerly and had them on in an instant. The T-shirt swamped her slender figure and hung to midthigh. She had to roll the sweatpants up and hold on to the waist to stop them falling down, but, like him, she seemed a whole lot happier once she was covered up.
Her expression was troubled. “This is all going to turn out to be a mistake. I don’t know how many Arctic werewolves there are in the world, but if you’re looking for one of the seven bravest and strongest, you’ve come to the wrong place.”
He pulled on a lightweight sweater. “The man who sent me to recruit you doesn’t make mistakes.”
“What is he? Some kind of a god?”
“Yes.” He held open the door and motioned for her to go through it. “We call him Gunnar, but he is Tyr, the great god of honor and justice.” Amber’s lips formed a silent “O” of surprise. “Now let’s go and say ‘hi.’”
She shuffled barefoot onto the ice, holding her baggy sweatpants up with one hand. “To a god?”
“And a goddess. His partner, the goddess Angrboda, is here as well.”
“The Mother of All Wolves wants to meet me?” She turned to look back over her shoulder, her eyes widening. Angrboda was revered by all werewolves, regardless of their species or pack loyalty. Devotion to the goddess was something a wolf cub suckled with its mother’s milk.
