Seeing her like this… Exposed. Dirt on her face. Cheeks flushed as she sang her silly little song. She had no idea what that did to him.
She broke your heart, a voice inside his head reminded him. Tore it to pieces.
The thought of her greeting him like this when he came home from long trips, their pups in tow, singing a traditional song… he remembered his mother throwing an empty Natty Lite can at his father whenever he came back to the RV after one of his multi-day binges. Where the fuck you been? she’d asked. Away from you and your fucking scent! he’d screamed back. And on and on. The exact opposite of a dance and a song topped off with a real Eskimo kiss.
She had no idea how bad she made him want things. Things he’d only dared to dream of when he was with her. Things he didn’t know if he could—
“I’m not sure what you’re hoping to gain from this, but even if you somehow survive this fight, you won’t get it.”
The image of Jeffrey, the newly crowned King of Wyoming, ambushed his mind like an invading force. And the blond king was once again standing six feet away from him, his voice as sharp and thin as the rapier he held pointed downwards in his hand.
“She-wolves like my fiancée don’t just fall for wolves like you. She goes to whoever her father chooses, and he would only choose you if he were completely desperate. It doesn’t matter what human sport you play, you’re a nobody in our strata. And you always will be.”
Mag also held a rapier, but he didn’t feel nearly as confident with it as Jeffrey seemed to be. Grady had predicted the king would choose fencing for the final challenge fight. It was a sport he’d trained in since his youth and one not many challengers would have access to. It also didn’t hurt that his beta had chosen mixed martial arts as his challenge battle fighting style.
Mag could see the brilliance in Jeffrey’s chosen fight form at that moment. His arms were aching after having had to go several physically taxing rounds with Kenny. After that first grueling challenge fight, even Mag was no longer sure he could beat the blond king.
“If you give up this challenge now, I’ll allow you to go home without any further punishment,” Jeffrey had told him. “Don’t get yourself killed chasing after a delusional fantasy. She’ll never truly love someone like you.”
“Mag?” he heard Janelle say back in the real world outside of his head. “Are you okay?”
Jeffrey was dead now. After sustaining several cuts, Mag had finally managed to put his rapier blade through the arrogant king’s throat. But it had taken all of his strength, and he now admitted to himself that the blond king had called it exactly. The Alaska king had only agreed to Mag’s pledging Janelle out of desperation—Janelle herself had more or less confirmed it with her plea not to drag out their pledge negotiation if he didn’t intend to honor it.
She was using him. Again. He knew she was just using him, and he didn’t have to put up with it. He had money now, a title—he didn’t need her or the Alaska king’s approval. He could go through with his initial plan and end this now. He could…
His mouth found hers. He didn’t know how it happened. One moment he’d made the decision to finally let her go, and the next, his tongue was in her mouth while his fingers fumbled to undo the metal catches on her overalls.
And she didn’t push him away like a good little princess should have. No, not only did she kiss him back, she helped him unhook the straps of her overalls and yank them off her body like they were on fire. Then there was nothing except her white string bikini between them. But even that was too much. He could feel her against his erection, the triangle between her legs hot as an oven, begging for this, begging for him.
Inside, his wolf had broken out of its cage. He was going to fuck her. Fuck her so hard, and for so long, neither of them would remember what had happened three years ago when he was finished. He pulled the bikini bottoms aside, opening her up to receive him, but then he felt…
Nothing. No evidence of her arousal. Just a reminder of who she was. An unheated princess who had used him three years ago because she’d been curious about sex.
He snatched his hand away and took a step back from her.
“Oh, God,” she said. “I can’t… I can’t believe that happened. I can’t believe, I… you’re right. We should wait for my heat night. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
16
WHEN in doubt, apologize. That lesson had been drummed into Janelle from the time she started making appearances at state functions. It was so easy for princesses to come off as spoiled, her mother had told her, and it would reflect badly on Alaska and on black she-wolves in particular if Janelle came off as anything less than infinitely gracious at all times.
“You’re this state’s first black princess,” her mother had said. “These people are just waiting for you to act the fool. Don’t ever give them a show.”
Her mother was from a mange state and had spent her first years in the kingdom learning the hard way to be regal while in public or run the risk of embarrassing her wealthy husband. She hadn’t wanted her daughters—Janelle especially—to go through the same extreme learning curve she had and she’d taught her from the beginning to stay in character, no matter the personal cost.
If conflict arose between Janelle and anyone, she had been taught to apologize. Apologize first, second, and last. If someone bumped into her, Janelle apologized. If a caterer or vendor got something wrong, she either worked around it, or apologized profusely for the confusion, before correcting it. The more confused she was, the more she apologized.
So when Mag abruptly stopped kissing her, just when she thought he was going to… well, she was very confused.
But unlike the caterer who’d shown up with a two-tier cake as opposed to the six-tier one she’d ordered for the Arctic Wolf Games opening party, her apologies didn’t seem to be helping things at all.
Mag just backed away from her, like she was a leper he’d mistakenly allowed himself to touch. Then he’d turned and gone back into the house, leaving her standing there in nothing but her string bikini.
And it didn’t get any better after that. She’d actually cooked dinner herself that night, a halibut chowder she hoped would remind him of the food back in Alaska. She also hoped eating together would give them the chance to talk and get to know each other again.
But when she knocked on the door to his bedroom there was no answer. So she walked a few feet to the door that led to the study. It had been open before, but it was closed now, so maybe this was where Mag had disappeared.
She raised her hand to knock on the door, but stopped when she heard the sound of his voice.
“I heard her knocking on my bedroom door, I should get off. But yeah, I’m glad I called, too. I got a lot of business to handle here, but I’m going to try to get back to L.A. soon to see you. All right. All right… me too. Bye, Sophia.”
Decidedly unladylike jealousy reared up inside her. Who the heck was Sophia? Apparently someone important enough that he’d fly back to L.A. to see her.
She knocked on the study door.
“Who is it?” he barked through the door.
“Um, it’s Janelle,” she answered, feeling awkward, but not wanting to open the door without invitation. “May I come in?”
“What do you want?”
Seriously? He wasn’t even going to invite her in? Janelle struggled to keep her voice pleasant. “Well, I made dinner. Halibut clam chowder...”
“Good, leave it outside the door.”
“You don’t… you don’t want to come down?”
“No, I’ve got a lot of work to do. Kingdom stuff. You know how it is.”
Actually she didn’t. Her mother had a hard and steadfast rule about everyone under the roof coming down to eat dinner together, and her father had never disobeyed it. Janelle couldn’t even imagine him eating in his study alone while the rest of his family ate downstairs.
But she and Mag weren’t mated yet, and she doubted he’d fall in line even if she did h
ave the temerity to demand his presence at the table she’d already set downstairs, so… she brought a tray up for him. She left it outside his door, thinking surely he’d have to come out of the study sometime…
But she was wrong. Like many kingdom house studies, the Wyoming one was connected to the master suite, making it easier for the king to nap between meetings or change into a suit for VIP visitors. However, Mag seemed to be using the study like a hideout, claiming to be busy and not inviting her in, but asking her to send Mrs. Coates up with his meals.
Apparently, Mrs. Coates had a standing invitation to enter his domain whenever she wanted. But Janelle? No such luck.
The only times she saw him over the next few spring and summer months were when he was coming and going: meetings, meetings, and more meetings. If Mag was to be believed, he was so busy with kingdom work, he never had time to come down for any meal at all: breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Though, occasionally, she’d come home from lunching with the wife of a council member to find Mrs. Coates clearing a lunch plate off the kitchen table—and sometimes there was food still left on the plate, as if whoever had been eating in the kitchen had heard her coming and hightailed it back up to his study.
Then there were the conversations she sometimes overheard before she passed by the study door. Often at night. The voice was a woman’s… calm and self-assured. The mysterious Sophia maybe? Janelle wished she could hear what they were saying.
But if she got anywhere close enough to hear, he seemed to know it and she’d only be able to listen for a second or two before he stopped talking and said, “What is it, Janelle?” like she was a pesky toddler who wouldn’t leave him alone.
Then she’d have to make up some excuse for stopping outside his door. Would you like a snack? Is there anything I could bring you? Really, I don’t mind…
The answer was always “no,” but as soon as she moved a few feet from the door, she’d hear him and the woman talking again.
It was, to put it mildly, very confusing. And then the August full moon happened.
There were three places she hadn’t completely redecorated in the Wyoming house. The first was Mag’s office. The second was the guest house and its accompanying garage—both had been locked up tighter than Fort Knox and when she’d asked Mrs. Coates about getting inside, she’d been told Mag had the locks changed and hadn’t provided his housekeeper with the keys.
The third was the basement, which boasted a set of four floor-to-ceiling changing cages. Most wolves, including the ones in her family, preferred to go through their full moon change outdoors. Normal wolves wanted to run wild and free, reveling in their animal side as the moon shined upon them.
In fact, most wolves used full moons the way humans used binge drinking. So what if they killed animals, or got into brutal fights with other wolves, or even had sex with their mates out in the open where everyone could see them? Nothing could be held against them when they were in wolf form.
However, Janelle hadn’t liked the idea of losing control in front of people, of waking up naked in the snow, having no idea what animals she might have hurt or possibly killed while in wolf form. Instead, she used the full moon as an excuse to escape the unrelenting public eye, turning by herself in the large cage her parents had bought for her when she told them she didn’t want to turn on the mountain any more at the age of twelve.
The former Wyoming royal family must have felt the same way she had about appearances, because they had four turning cages in their basement, all of which were top of the line. Steel bars painted over with gold paint to take away from that jail cell look. A large screen TV on the wall opposite the cell, so the cages’ residents could catch a movie while they waited for sunset. And locks on daylight timers, so as soon as the sun came up, the cage doors opened, allowing the occupants to exit without any further ado. The cells floors were covered in a grass that looked so real to the eye and touch, only the fact that it had survived six of her changes unscathed let her know it was fake.
Six changes. Had she really been there that long? Janelle settled her back against the wall as she contemplated how little her relationship with Mag had progressed despite the fact they’d been living under the same roof all summer. And now she was about to undergo a seventh change…
…but not alone this time. Less than fifteen minutes before the projected moonrise, Mag came rushing down the stairs. He put himself in the cage next to hers and let out a grunt of relief when the cell’s electronic lock engaged.
“What are you doing here?” she asked him. Then remembering her princess manners, she got to her feet, resetting her tone of voice. “I mean, wouldn’t you prefer to turn on the mountain tonight?”
A look of irritation crossed his face. “Yeah, I like changing outside better, but I was on the phone with… someone and lost track of time. I didn’t think I’d make it to the mountain before moonrise, and tearing somebody’s house up if I don’t make ain’t a good look, yeah?”
“No, I suppose not,” she agreed, wondering who he’d been talking to. Was it Sophia again?
A jealous knot twisted her stomach, even as she asked him with a well-trained hostess’s aplomb, “Would you like a snack for later?” She indicated the Perrier bottle and shatterproof dish of cheese and crackers she’d brought down for herself. “If you don’t think your wolf will mind eating off the floor, I can pass some of this through the bars.”
He looked to the plate then back to her. “Seriously? You feed your wolf cheese and crackers and let her drink Perrier?”
Janelle laughed as she bent down to pour the sparkling water into the large bowl before the moon rose and she was no longer able. “Yes, of course. She’s part of me. Why not let her have the things we both enjoy?”
“So even your wolf is fancy.”
This observation didn’t come out like a compliment and the smile fell off Janelle’s face. “If you give me a list, next time I’ll bring down some of the things you enjoy, too. Just in case you get stuck on a call again. Were you, um… talking to Sophia?”
She realized this was a bold question, especially for a princess to ask her would-be mate, and she kept her eyes on the water she was pouring into the bowl as she waited for his answer.
The answer never came. “I see you’ve got two silk robes,” he said, as if he hadn’t heard her question.
She glanced at the silk robe pooled on the floor outside the cage. It matched the one she currently wore. “Yes, one for before and one for after.”
“Why don’t you use the same robe? Most wolves just take off their clothes and leave them outside the cage.”
As if to prove his point, Mag began to undress himself. And Janelle quickly looked away, but not before she caught a glimpse of his naked body. And of what lay between his legs—or in this case, sprang to full attention.
Her throat went very dry, and though she knew it would be rude to stare, it was difficult for her to keep her head turned toward the neighboring empty cage, like trying to resist a powerful magnet.
“I asked you a question, Janelle.”
Janelle swallowed. Yes, he had. She busied herself with returning to the position she’d been in when he’d first come down the stairs, using the wall of her cage as back support when she sat down. “I guess we all have our little peccadilloes. Mine is staying clothed until the change overtakes me.”
She heard the soft thwack of his back slapping against their shared wall. He must have sat down, too. Was it safe to look now? She risked a glance.
No, no it wasn’t! True, he was sitting against the wall just like her, but unlike her, his arousal was obvious. His erection lay clear and undeniable against his stomach. She quickly looked away again and silently cursed as she felt her own nipples hardening underneath the silk of her robe.
Here she was getting turned on by the sight of him, but he’d just gotten off the phone—most likely with another woman. Who knew who had inspired the impressive show between his legs? Her or the human? She took solace in
the fact that her pre-heat body was physically incapable of giving off an arousal scent. Also, thank God, she was covered up, which meant he wouldn’t be able to tell just how affected she was by the sight of him naked.
“What would you do if I asked you to take the robe off?”
Janelle froze. He was testing her. He had to be testing her. But he also sounded genuinely curious about her answer.
She cleared her throat. “I’m pledged to you. If you asked me to remove my robe, of course I’d honor that request—”
“I want you to remove your robe.” His voice was low now. Low and dark, and she could feel his steady stare like a weapon loaded and aimed straight at her...
She took off the robe, as quickly as she could, shoving it through the bars before she could chicken out. She then quickly returned to her seated position, bending her knees and covering her breasts with one arm—
“Put your arm down,” he said beside her.
She put her arm down, squirming a little bit when it brushed over her pebbled nipples in its descent down to her knees. Then she kept her eyes on the ceiling and focused on not melting into a pool of embarrassment.
Mag wasn’t in a courteous mood. “So this is part of the princess package? Whatever I ask you to do, you do it?”
“Within reason. For example, I couldn’t do anything that went against Lupine law, especially now you’re a king and subject to Lupine law, too.”
“No, wouldn’t want to go against Lupine law.” There was clear innuendo in his voice, and she knew he was all but calling her a hypocrite outright after what they’d done three years ago. But then he said… “I don’t like getting overtaken.”
“Hmm?” she said, dragging her focus from how uncomfortable she felt, fully exposed underneath his gaze. “What do you mean?”
She could now hear him shifting around next door, and she wondered what he was he doing, but was too afraid to look.
Wolf and Punishment (The Alaska Princesses Trilogy, Book 1) Page 13
