Prymal Lust

by Carlo, Jianne

  He framed her face. Stared at her, shaking his head a little. “It’s my job to look after you. I ordered dinner for the two of us from a little Italian place at the bottom of the canyon.”

  Aw, that was so sweet of him. “Can you cancel the order? Honestly, we have a ton of food.”

  “Il Giardino? I’ll call and cancel right now.” Bandit already had his cell in hand when Tania glanced his way. The man was obviously a frequent visitor if he knew the nearby restaurants.

  “Please.” She smiled at Bandit. Patted Axe’s chest. “Let me up. I need to get everything organized. Will you let the others know dinner will be ready in half an hour?”

  “We can help.” Axe offered. He still wore a half-stunned, half-puzzled expression.

  “No thanks. I’ve got everything under control. I’m sure you must have Prymal stuff to discuss. Go ahead.”

  “I’ll get the others. Lycus and Jaz should be here any sec.” Bandit lurched to his feet and marched out the back door.

  Axe came up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. Enveloped by his wonderful spiciness, she sighed, and tipped back to see him.

  “Tania, you do not have to do this. It’s my job to provide you with food, shelter, and whatever else you need.”

  The concept was so bizarre she couldn’t process it. “In the Wylfen world, alphas don’t cook or do anything remotely domestic. In the Feral world the alphas cook?”

  “Cook, clean, whatever. It’s all about keeping my mate happy. I don’t want you to have to lift a finger.”

  She snorted, pivoted, and crossed her arms. “Okay. Now I see the similarities between the two types of alphas. Let’s get something straight right away. I am not a glass doll. I will not break. I’ve lived by stupid, senseless Wylfen rules all my life. I’m not going from one tyrant to another. I hate feeling useless. I hate being dependent on anyone. That’s why I went to culinary school. That’s why I have—had a job. I will not be ‘the little woman.’”

  He raised his hands in the ultimate surrender gesture. “All I want is your happiness. You want to cook dinner for us?”

  Men could be such idiots. “Correction, I have cooked dinner for you. Now, all I need is to assemble it. Go do your Prymal alpha stuff. I’ll yell when I’m ready.”

  “Are you sure? I can get the dishes—”

  She thwacked his chest. “Go.”

  “If you insist.” She had to press her lips together to suppress a grin at his hound-dog sulking expression.

  He lifted her chin, gave her a hard stare, and kissed the tip of her nose. “You’ll call me if you need help.”

  It was an order. “Sure. Now, go.”

  He trudged to the door, glanced back at her, heaved a huge sigh, and exited.

  Alpha Ferals cooked and cleaned? She shook her head. The concept was so ridiculous; she couldn’t begin to go there. But, he had cooked her breakfast. And Jurango almost had a fit when he caught her loading the dishwasher.

  The oven beeped and jolted her back to the here and now. She’d set the timer earlier. The convection oven’s temperature display read three fifty. Perfect.

  Tania loved cooking. A fact she hated. Wylfen females, by tradition, took care of all domestic responsibilities. The males never lifted a finger to help. Tania couldn’t remember her dad ever getting his own glass of water. A Wylfen woman was taught and expected to anticipate her mate’s every need, down to the tiniest detail.

  Humming, she heated the food, popped the rolls into the oven, got out all the chili fixins’, and tossed the salad. She’d bastardized the recipe for Texas-style chili to the point where it probably couldn’t be recognized, save for the flavor. Hers contained kidney, pinto, and black beans (horror of horrors to her Texan classmates), sausages, pork, beef, and ground meat. But her recipe had won the prize for the tastiest chili out of over seventy-five others.

  In no time at all, she had everything ready. She washed up, opened the back door, stuck her head out, and yelled, “Grub’s ready.”

  Grub, she wrinkled her nose. Sounded like something snails ate.

  The men filed into the room one by one, each and every powerful alpha sniffing, and sighing and darting glances at the dishes on the kitchen island.

  Jaz headed straight for her. Gave her a hug and then drew back to study her face. He smiled. “I don’t think I’ve seen you so relaxed in years. Had a good day?”

  “Oh yeah. Jaz, it’s not only the stove that’s drool-worthy. I didn’t get a chance to test out everything, but the micro’s the best I’ve ever used. It’s a combo—”

  “Whoa. I believe you. But please spare me the play by play of appliance features. You know I don’t do domestic.”

  That sobered her. Of course not. Her twin was the typical Wylfen alpha.

  “Please go ahead. It’s buffet style. I’ll put the bread on the table as soon as you’re all seated.” She gestured to the platters and bowls arranged on the island counter.

  “Looks great, sis,” Jaz said, flashed her a smile, and in one stride was at the island, and had a bowl in hand.

  Axe growled, “Where the heck are your manners, pup? There’s a lady amongst us. Not just any woman either, but your sister, and my mate. Show respect.”

  Jaz’s mouth fell open. He took one look at Axe’s bared canines, put the bowl on the island, and backed away.

  Shocked to her core, Tania could only gawk at Axe. She frowned. “I have to look after the bread. The food will get cold.”

  Axe crossed his arms. He trapped her gaze. “We’ll wait until you’re finished.”

  Muttering under her breath, Tania made quick work of getting the rolls into a cloth-napkin lined woven basket. She tucked the linen over the hot, yeasty-scented bread.

  “Where do you want it? There’s no room on the island.” Axe had the dish in his hands before she could blink.

  “On the lazy Susan on the table.” Tania untied her apron, glanced at the island, and wished she’d thought to use a crockpot, or a warming tray. Her father had a ‘thing’ about food being piping hot.

  When Axe had complied with her wishes, she asked, “Now, can we eat?”

  “Sure.” Axe flashed her a grin, cupped her elbow, and guided her to the island He snatched a bowl, picked up the ladle, scooped three heaping helpings of chili and said, “Tell me when.”

  “When what?” She had no idea what he was talking about.

  “When the portion size is right for you?”

  It took long moments for comprehension to dawn. “You’re serving me?”

  “Of course. Come on, Tania. Bandit’s getting ready to put his face in the chili and inhale it.”

  Axe lifted a brow when she continued to gape at him.

  “We can always heat it up in the micro,” Bandit said from behind her. “Take your time.”

  That galvanized her into action. “That’s fine. Give me the bowl. I’ll get my own fixins’.”

  “Nope. Sour cream?” He spooned a sizeable dollop.

  Irritation had her grinding her teeth. She realized Axe intended to finish serving her no matter what she said. “Fine. One spoonful each of the fixins’.”

  She seethed in silence while he put salad into another bowl, led her to the table, helped her to sit, and put a roll on her side plate.

  A flurry of low rumbles distracted her and she glanced up to find the three men jostling for position behind Bandit who was at the pot of chili. Tania relaxed a little.

  “Wine to drink?” Axe still hovered at her elbow.

  “Oh, I forgot the sangria.” She rose.

  He pressed her back into the chair. “Fridge?”

  “Yes,” she snapped.

  Only after he had poured her a glass of sangria did Axe make his way to the island.

  Tania studied her chili unseeing.

  What had just happened?

  She replayed the whole incident. Had he been trying to teach Jaz a lesson? Was it some sort of crazy way of thanking her for cooking the meal?


  “Not ready to eat, Tania?” Axe asked.

  Startled, she blinked, and glanced up. All five men were seated around the table. All had full to the brim bowls, but none had touched their chili.

  Whaaat? “Oh. Do you say grace or something?”

  “No. We’re waiting for you to eat first,” Axe replied.

  Tania didn’t know what to make of that, but the hungry looks on their faces sparked her into action. She spooned chili into her mouth. Thank goodness the stew was still hot.

  No one spoke a word for a few minutes. Every so often, Tania checked on the five alphas, and her gratification grew in leaps and bounds with their enthusiastic moans of appreciation.

  “Delicious. Plain delicious. Don’t know the last time I had a home cooked meal. Ma’am this is fantastic.” This came from the stoic, one-word-answer Jurango who refused to use her first name.

  “Sure is, Tania. This is better than any chili I ever had in Texas. Never tasted anything like it.”

  “Thanks, uh, Kydd.” The Kydd just didn’t sound right.

  “Bet you could win Top Chef America with this dish. And these rolls. I’m dying and going to heaven. Each bite brings a surprise. Those little slivers of garlic, so nutty. What’s the crunch in the rolls?”

  You could’ve blown her over with a whisper. Bandit? This huge hulk of a man who radiated lethal ruthlessness was a gourmet? Tania knew her face was red. Yet she warmed from within in pleasure and deep satisfaction.

  “Chopped pumpkin seeds. You know your food…Bandit.”

  Bandit slapped his forehead. “I should’ve guessed that.”

  “We figure Bandit’s cat DNA got warped somewhere along the line. One time, we were stuck on this island for a couple of weeks. Instead of eating MREs like we all did. He dug up clams and some other mollusk crap, and smoked ‘em.” The Kydd smirked. “Took him all day to get enough for one meal. And then he had to start all over again.”

  “I hate MREs,” Bandit muttered. “Tastes like fu-fricking sawdust.”

  She noticed they had all cleaned their bowls and there was one single roll left on the platter.

  “There’s tons of food. Go ahead.” Tania waved at the counter

  “We’ll wait until you’re finished, ma’am,” Jurango said, but he licked his lips and eyed the counter.

  “Why on earth would you do that?” Tania asked.

  “In case, you want more,” The Kydd explained.

  She crossed her eyes. The temptation to wring each and every man’s ears had her fingertips itching. “I will not want more. As it is, I’m positive I won’t be able to finish what I’ve got. Besides, I need to save a little room for the apple pie.”

  When she finished speaking, all eyes turned to Axe who had focused on her. “You sure, Tania?”

  Through clenched teeth, she gritted, “Pos-i-tive. Now, let them eat.”

  After that the meal settled into a weird normality. Tania listened fascinated as they tossed each other ruthless, derogatory insults, all the while grinning and letting loose hard jabs and punches.

  Meals in the Arman Prakov residence were served in the formal dining room on a century old mahogany table. Her mother had four different china, crystal, and silver sets; one each for breakfast, lunch, tea, and dinner.

  Her father directed the conversation. No one laughed or joked around. Discussions centered on Wylfen matters, the latest world news, and upcoming social events. The notion of any one of her family members swearing at the table was too bizarre to even consider.

  When they were finished with the chili, salad, and the bread, Axe ordered Jaz to clear the table and load the dishwasher.

  Tania held her breath waiting for her twin to explode.

  Beet-faced, mouth compressed, Jaz complied.

  She noticed he loaded the dishwasher with quick efficiency. Jaz had never touched the appliance when he lived at home.

  “Don’t look so worried. You don’t go through four years of military college without learning how to spit and polish anything that can be spit and polished.” Axe caught her hand and rubbed her thumb.

  All at once, scenes from the movie Private Benjamin flashed in her head. She turned to Axe. “What a chump, I am. Of course. I’ve seen enough military movies to know that. For some reason I didn’t put two and two together because it was Jaz.”

  She shook her head. The whole evening had jolted her concepts of the way alphas treated females. Sure, she knew that in most first world countries men and women had equal rights. But, an alpha was an alpha. They ruled with iron fists. And women submitted to their rule.

  But, here was her twin, Jaz, who’d never lifted a finger while he lived at home, stacking a dishwasher, and, she glanced at him, wiping down the counter and the sink.

  Bandit snorted. “He ain’t seen nothing yet. Wait till Hell Week starts. And guess who’s the special guest instructor for Hell Week?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Tania decided the apple pie and ice cream would be served under the stars. She’d shoed them out of the kitchen.

  Axe and Lycus retired to the deck.

  Bandit, Jaz, The Kydd, and Jurango headed to the barn to argue about the sleeping arrangements. The loft in the barn had two bedrooms and one bath. They’d either have to modify the four horse stalls, or bunk together because there was no way everyone would fit in Axe’s four bedroom house.

  “You’re being a dip-shit a-hole. Never thought I’d see the day when you’d hold back. Fuck, Axe. She’s going to have to know it all eventually.” Lycus leaned back in the chair, took a puff of his cigar, and blew a series of perfect, pearl-gray spirals.

  The mouth-watering aroma of java brewing filtered to Axe’s nose. Before he could compose a reply, the screen door opened.

  “What am I going to have to know eventually?” Tania, carrying a tray with a carafe of coffee and five mugs, stood in the doorway.

  Axe cringed. He knew the moment inevitable but had hoped to stall full divulgence a day or two longer. He bounded to his feet, relieved her of the tray, and set it on the picnic table.

  Drawing her back to his chest, he wrapped his arms around her, and rested his chin on her hair. For a few seconds Axe allowed himself the luxury of simply holding her and absorbing the faint floral tint to the shampoo she used that morning, and the silken feel of her nestled within his arms.

  “What you and we are up against,” Lycus replied.

  For a moment she studied the Rogue wolf.

  Then she craned her neck and twisted to the right and met Axe’s gaze. “Lycus is right. Thank you for this little oasis. I needed to get accustomed to everything. Not that I’m fully there yet. But, I have to know where I stand.”

  Axe blew out a long sigh. He knuckled her cheek. “Yeah. It’s time.”

  She edged away from him and fussed with the French Press. “Help yourselves to the coffee. I’ll bring out the pies.”

  Right then Jaz appeared at the bottom of the stairs. “I’ll help, sis.”

  Tania blinked a couple of times, obviously taken aback. Grinned. “Thanks, Jaz.”

  When the twins vanished into the kitchen, Axe said, “Had a talk with the pup, did you?”

  “Me? Nah. Bandit, Jurango, and The Kydd tore into him. Told him that he’d better learn manners around females, or he’d be knuckle-kissed within an inch of his life.”

  “Knuckle-kissed? Guess they went easy on him in deference to his newly granted founding member status,” Axe mused. He glanced over his shoulder, gauged the twins’ progress, and said, “No mention of the scatting on her panties.”

  “Agreed. Not necessary. I’ll let you lead the conversation. Just remember, as of tomorrow, Eva and Dax will be here.” Lycus pinched out his cigar and rested it in the lone ashtray on the table. He moved the crystal and the smoke to the other end of the deck.

  “Handling that one’s the tricky part of all this.” Axe dreaded Tania’s reactions to Eva’s injuries. “Do we include the others in this?”

  “Your mat
e will have to get used to all of us. We do this as a pack.” Lycus whistled, the sound a pitch above what a human could hear, and the Prymal signal for gathering immediately.

  When Tania and Jaz returned loaded with pies and, a quart of ice-cream, they both swept surprised glances at the picnic table.

  Bandit, The Kydd, and Jurango were seated opposite Lycus and Axe.

  “Well, that was quick. I thought you all were in the barn.” The plates on the trays rattled when Tania laid them on the table.

  “Are you kidding, doll? We heard the fridge open and raced back here. ‘Sides we got everything figured out.” Bandit eyed the three pies. “Is that caramel trickled on top of the crust?”

  “You have a good eye,” Tania declared.

  “It’s the nose. Nada gets by this.” Bandit tapped his honker.

  “Help yourselves to coffee. There’s creamer and sugar in the little jars.” Tania began slicing one pie into quarters. “I’m assuming everyone wants the whole enchilada?”

  Her answer was a chorus of growled yeses.

  Jaz settled across from Axe. He quirked a brow.

  Axe gave him a surreptitious nod answering Jaz’s unspoken question—are you going to tell her?

  A bustle of activity occurred, followed by moans of appreciation, and second and third helpings. When not a crumb or lick of ice-cream remained, the men cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher refusing to let Tania help in anyway though she protested.

  Axe bought a couple of extra minutes by brewing and serving another pot of coffee. After ensuring both he and his mate had mugs of the strong potion, he deliberately sat opposite her. She shot him a puzzled look, but didn’t say a word.

  Jaz sat beside his sister.

  Bandit parked his butt on the railing. He nursed a mug of bourbon-laced java.

  The Kydd jammed a booted foot on the far end of the bench.

  Jurango leaned his forearm on a thick, vertical post, and sipped his coffee.

  Tania frowned, but remained silent.

  Lycus cleared his throat. “It’s time, Tania, that you understand the circumstances and incidents that precipitated our and your current situations.”

  “I agree. I have a ton of questions.” She curled her fingers around the mug and swept Axe a sidelong glance.