Black Wolfe's Mate (Paranormal Shifter Romance)
Page 8
Derrick considered this. As his mate, she held considerable power. She was his lover, his confidant. The mating bond was sacred — the source of his current strength and his greatest weakness. And with every minute that passed, the bond would only grow. In his mind, there was very little that could be more important or more useful than that.
Yet, he would be the first to admit there was much about his bride-mate he did not understand. She confounded him and intrigued him, and he was neither too proud nor too arrogant to believe he knew enough to say his pack mates were wrong. Antoine and Steffen were nearly always right when it came to the fairer sex. In truth, it was rather annoying.
He sighed, resigned. “Any suggestions?”
The room was quiet as they considered the options. Derrick was quite adamant about keeping Angelica out of the public eye and the pack agreed unanimously. She had been attractive before, but since the transformation, she was nothing less than stunning. Outwardly, she hadn’t changed much. Her hair might have been longer and thicker, her eyes a little brighter, and her skin now radiated a healthy glow instead of the much paler tone of her illness. Inside, however, it was as if the sun itself had taken up residence. She now had a “joy of life” that spilled out like sunshine on everyone around her. It was impossible to be in her presence and not be drawn to her.
An additional requirement — one they all heartily agreed on — was she had to be in the company of one or more pack members at all times. She was still very new to the world of the shifter and while she was surpassing their expectations, she lacked the iron control needed to go out into the world unchaperoned. The last thing any of them needed, or wanted, was for Angelica to shift suddenly in front of humans, endangering herself and others. It was imperative that their way of life remain a secret.
They offered up a few suggestions. Unsurprisingly, each one thought their particular niche would suit her well. After many ideas had been batted back and forth, it was one of the adolescents who eventually came up with an idea upon which they could all agree.
“Why not let Angelica choose what she wants to do?” Markus said. The three boys had been sitting so quietly in the corner, the others had almost forgotten their presence. Silas thought they might be too young to be involved in pack meetings, but Derrick felt they needed to be included early on.
All eyes turned Markus’ way. To his credit, the young man did not wilt beneath their gaze.
“Markus is right,” Erik said, nodding. “My sire once told me they assigned duties they thought were fitting when they first brought the females into our pack. They expected them to do all of the cooking and cleaning and caring for the settlement and pups. By the end of the first month, he said, they had realized they had made a grave error.”
Oskar smiled at their questioning looks. It was perhaps the first time they had seen him do so and the effect was remarkable. “Every one of the males was stricken with a malady that forced them to spend a lot of time in the woods...er, expelling rather forcefully.”
“And their clothes had been washed and softened with the oils of poison oak and poison ivy,” Markus grinned.
Erik laughed outright at the look of horror on the older male’s faces. A few of them subconsciously scratched.
“What happened?”
“Well, according to my sire, the men gathered and agreed that something had to be done, but none of them knew exactly what. So they went to the females and asked them what they wanted to do.”
“And?” Dieter prompted.
“They chose to do the same tasks they had been assigned.”
“That makes no sense!” Steffen blurted out.
“Of course it does,” Markus said soberly. “She-wolves are every bit as proud as the males. My sire said what they lack in physical strength, they more than make up for in cunning and subterfuge. He said no self-respecting male would ever force a woman into his bed, that the sweetest surrender is that which is willingly given, and it was a lesson that applied not only to the bedchamber, but to all aspects of pack life.”
They stared at Markus, astonished. “Out of the mouths of babes...” Antoine murmured.
“Then it is settled,” Derrick said decisively. “We shall ask Angelica what she wishes to do.”
Every head nodded emphatically in agreement.
Derrick knew the decision had been a good one when Angelica wrapped her entire body around his and literally glowed with excitement. He made a mental note to reward the adolescents for averting a potential disaster.
As pleased as she was, Angelica did not have an answer for him. She promised to give the matter much thought, after she spent several hours showing Derrick just how much she appreciated his thoughtfulness and sensitivity.
An exhausted, but very happy, Alpha suggested she spend time with a different member of the pack each day to see if she found something she liked. Angelica thought that was a wonderful idea and continued to express her appreciation for such a trusting, loving male in ways that crossed his eyes.
* * *
“You are sure?”
Liam’s nostrils flared as they stood upon the deserted private ferry dock. He loathed the human with every last fiber of his being. He wished nothing more than to shift into his wolf and rip out every vein and tendon in the bastard’s scrawny little throat.
But he couldn’t. Not yet. Not with the lives of his mate and his young on the line. He was already as good as dead. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe Carrow would allow him to live once he had what he wanted. The mercenary bounty hunter was not known for his compassion, and life held no value to him beyond the coin it could place in his pocket.
If Liam could control his rage long enough, he might be able to give the others sufficient warning. If he failed, he and everyone he cared about were as good as dead, as was the unsuspecting pack on the island. They had taken in his son. He at least owed them a chance at survival, however slim that chance might be. He could only hope they were better equipped to deal with the likes of Carrow and his bloodthirsty hunters than his pack had been.
He nodded once, a small brisk movement that held little emotion, but Carrow was not fooled.
“You hate me, eh?” Carrow laughed softly in English, the slight hint of French evident in the cadence. “But not as much as you hate yourself for what you now do.”
Liam refused to acknowledge him in one way or another. He had tracked his son this far, to this very dock. There were lingering scents of the others, too, but Carrow didn’t have to know that. The less informed he was about what awaited him, the better.
* * *
“It is of no consequence.” Carrow pulled out his cellphone and thumbed it once or twice before speaking into it. “Wolfe Island...yes, the dog confirms it...excellent...yes, I agree...of course.”
He terminated the connection even as he pulled the gun smoothly from his pocket and fired the tranquilizers into the shifter without warning. He would have preferred to kill him outright, but he could not afford to spill wolf’s blood where it might be scented by others, and the shaggy bastard would probably just heal anyway. The tranquilizers had more than enough potency to render him helpless.
Carrow gave a mocking wave as Liam’s body toppled into the water. The damn things might heal quickly, but even shifters needed to breathe. Sacrificing such a large, healthy specimen was unfortunate, but necessary. He could not take the chance that the werewolf might escape or find a way to warn the others. If his suspicions were correct, what was on the island would more than make up for the loss.
He smirked as he watched Liam sink well below sight. The body would eventually be discovered, but by then, it would be too late. He only needed a few hours, at most. Carrow looked off across the water toward an island he could not see. Retrieval would be difficult, but not impossible. His team was the best. They would enjoy the challenge.
Chapter 12
The look on Silas’ face was more than enough to tell Derrick things had not gone well.
“How
bad is it?”
“Antoine’s already healed. The burns were minor. Dieter says he can have that section rebuilt in a day or two.”
Derrick sighed. He’d already received a complete report on the damage from Antoine and Christophe the moment he’d returned. “I was referring to Angelica.”
“She’s in the tower,” Silas said, inclining his head toward the narrow door by which he stood unofficial guard. “She’s been there all afternoon. I tried talking with her, Derrick, but she refuses to come out.”
Derrick knew Silas could sense some measure of Angelica’s feelings. Pack members were attuned to each other, a natural result of the blood bond they shared. With age and experience, members learned how to shield most of their private emotions, but Angelica was in the infancy stage of her shifter abilities, which made her incapable of completely shutting anyone out. Out of respect for their Alpha, the others tried to afford her as much privacy as possible, but it was impossible to block every emotion, especially when Angelica felt things so deeply. Perhaps that was why she had chosen to insulate herself in a more physical way by retreating into one of the tower rooms.
“Angelica,” he called softly. Receiving no response, he placed his hand on the antique brass knob. It turned silently and effortlessly, surprising him. Derrick looked over his shoulder at Silas, who reddened slightly. Clearly, he had expected it to be locked as well.
Narrow stone steps curved steeply up to the tower room. Derrick couldn’t remember the last time he’d been up here before Angelica. The room served no purpose to him, other than being the sort of thing a proper castle ought to have, but Angelica absolutely adored it. It had quickly become “her space”, a private place to go when Derrick and the others were busy. Derrick didn’t like her being alone at any time, but it was one of the most secure areas on the island. The only entrance or exit was through his private chambers or a sheer vertical drop out of windows several stories high.
He stopped when he reached the stone archway near the top. The last rays of sunlight poured into the huge windows, bathing the entire room in a warm, golden glow, but Derrick barely noticed. His eyes were drawn to the scores of paintings, sketches, and oils littering nearly every surface.
Leaning down, he picked up one resting on the stone floor at his foot. What he saw had him inhaling sharply. A beautiful drawing of a wolf with glossy black fur and intense blue eyes, so lifelike he could imagine it leaping off the page. There were dozens of similar pictures all around, scattered like forgotten trash.
Antoine, his dark glossy fur and onyx eyes; in wolf form, his markings emulated the very precise facial hair he wore in human form.
Steffen, his rich chocolate brown fur tipped with white, his sharp teeth revealed in a very familiar roguish canine grin.
Christophe, looking serious as always, though compassion radiated from his soft green eyes.
Niko, all black and intense, with only the golden glow of his eyes and the tips of stark white fangs peeking out in the hinted promise of a snarl.
Dieter, a sturdy mass of brown and gray, his immovability as apparent in two dimensions as it was in three.
And Silas. Angelica had somehow managed to capture the loyalty in his heart and depth of his character in the beast’s soulful brown eyes.
Even the adolescents were among the mix, portrayed in human and lupine form, the depth of their grief and sorrow matched only by the strength and courage in their hearts.
It was too much to take in all at once. His mate had a remarkable gift, he realized. The ability to recognize the very essence of another being with little more than a glance and recreate it on paper in haunting detail.
Angelica sat on the window ledge, sketching, seemingly oblivious to his presence. Her hands moved with blurring speed, but she hardly paid attention to what she was doing. It was as if her hands could see what was in her mind, translating the images effortlessly onto the paper before her without the use of her eyes. The golden rays lent a luminous radiance to her hair, making it appear as though she glowed. They cut easily through the thin, shift dress she wore, illuminating every natural, lush curve and swell. The very sight had his heart in his throat.
“Angelica.” He whispered her name softly, afraid to move for fear he might startle her. “Angelica...” He was forced to call her name several times before her hand finally stopped moving.
He walked over to her, keeping his movements smooth and slow. When he was only a few steps away, he caught sight of what she was sketching. It was Antoine looking at the damage in his kitchen, caused by the blaze she had accidentally started, done in shades of black and gray. In the sketch, it was clear to see the disappointment in his eyes. Derrick knew he was looking at exactly the same expression Angelica had seen firsthand. No doubt it had only lasted a moment, but it was clearly enough to sear itself into her mind.
He looked down again at other images littering the floor just below her perch. All of them captured similar moments among his pack mates. They were brief glimpses into moments when Angelica believed she had let them down.
“Look at me, love,” he commanded softly, more confident now that he was close enough to catch her before she could tumble out of the window. She obeyed him without question, without hesitation. Her eyes were so big and sad, it tugged at his heart.
“I’m sorry, Derrick,” she murmured.
Derrick pulled her into his arms, carrying her to the oversized chair next to the massive hearth. No fire blazed there today. He sat down, keeping her firmly ensconced upon his lap, tucking her head into his neck.
“Don’t cry, Angelica,” he whispered. “You know I cannot bear it.”
Angelica was a silent crier, he’d learned. There were no racking sobs or heaving shoulders. If he hadn’t felt the hot moisture against his collarbone and scented her tears, he wouldn’t have even been aware of it. He pulled her a little tighter and kissed the top of her head.
He wondered vaguely why she was so upset. Christophe had told him Angelica had stayed with Antoine, fussing over him like a mother hen until she was absolutely convinced he was fine. Dieter assured her reconstruction of that particular section of the kitchen would be no great effort. He reached delicately into her mind, taking advantage of their mating bond to search for the answers he needed.
“I’m useless,” she sniffed into his skin, even as he located the same sentiment within. “Worse than useless. I wreak havoc wherever I go.”
“Ah, love,” he soothed, stroking her arm. “That is not true. You are everything to me.”
“My mate,” she murmured against his neck. “You have given me more than anything I could have asked for, more than I ever dreamed of.”
Her words pleased him. “And the pack, they have welcomed me, even though I know they really didn’t want to.”
“Where did you ever get such an idea?”
“Oh, come on, Derrick. I might be new to the whole shifter thing, but I am not an idiot. They were not pleased when you chose me.” Her hands pushed lightly against him, as if to move away, but he was having none of that. She needed to feel the truth, not just hear it. And though reassurance was an integral part of what he would provide, he would not lie. They hadn’t been pleased with his choice of mate — not at first.
“And yet, they each gave their blood to save you.”
“Because of you, Derrick,” she said, giving up her half-hearted attempt to distance herself. “Because they love you and they would do anything for you.” Even when they believe it to be a horrible mistake, she added silently, forgetting he could easily hear thoughts crafted with such strong emotion. Judging by the immediate responses thrusting into him from his sentinels, they were picking up her distress as well.
“I am their Alpha.”
“You are so much more than that,” she said fervently. “You have no idea how wonderful you are, how much they look up to you. They think you deserve better.” And I have to agree with them. He heard the words she didn’t speak aloud, and they were unaccep
table, no matter from whom they originated.
“Enough!” he said firmly. He had no idea where she was getting these crazy ideas, but he was going to talk to his pack about it the moment he was certain Angelica was all right. Clearly, they were better at shielding their positive feelings than their initial negative ones, probably because of their highly possessive and jealous natures. And while Derrick was extremely territorial where Angelica was concerned, his pack was beyond suspicion. It was far more important that Angelica understand just how much she had entwined herself into their hearts.
“It’s true, Derrick,” she spoke quietly into his neck, a light nuzzle solely her privilege to impart. “You know it as well.”
“I know nothing of the sort, and I cannot fathom where you would get such an idea.”
“I know you love me,” she said, kissing beneath his jaw, knowing how much he liked it. “I may not understand it, but I know it. You show me every day.”
“Is that not enough?”
“I want to feel useful. I want to show you – show them - you didn’t choose poorly. That I can contribute to the pack, too.” She lifted her head to look into his eyes. “I want them to accept me as more than just your mate, Derrick.”
“But they do, love.” And it was true. He just didn’t know how to make her see that. It didn’t help that each time one of them had taken her under his wings there had been a minor catastrophe. The earlier incident in the kitchen had been the most recent in a string of unfortunate occurrences.
It was Derrick’s belief that she was trying too hard to win their approval when she clearly already had it. But apparently, Angelica had trouble accepting that, believing her place in the pack should be earned, not simply given because she was the Alpha’s mate.
Her desire to earn her place among the pack filled him with a sense of pride. There were those who would expect and demand the loyalty of the others simply because she was the Alpha’s mate. But not Angelica; she wanted to prove herself through thought and deed.