At the thought of Max, her heart twisted, and her body grew cold. The heat had been turned on, and the studio was at a comfortable temperature but still Drew shivered. She’d spoken to Vivienne in the past weeks, and on each occasion, Vivienne had sadly conveyed she still knew nothing of Max. A day didn’t go by when Drew didn’t think of him, wondering if he was alive, or what they were doing to him. Her excuse of “he’s with his father” had not been able to calm her of late, when she’d kept calling and had been told that Vivienne knew nothing.
Drew was saved from her thoughts when the doorbell rang. Pulling out her cell phone, she looked at the time. Two thirty. They’d given her a nine-to-four delivery window on Thursday. They were on time.
She pulled the door open. “Just bring everything in—” Drew halted as her gaze landed on two well-dressed men.
“Drew Tierney?” the one closest to her asked, pronouncing her name in a distinctly French way.
“Who wants to know?” she replied, clutching the door so she could slam it if need be.
“Maximilian Cronin,” the man responded in an easy tone of voice.
“Max—?” she began, thinking of her Max before recognizing that these two were referring to the father. Oh God, how had they found her? She pulled from the doorway quickly. As she slammed the door, a boot wedged its way into the doorway.
Drew scrambled back frantically and did the first thing that came to mind. She screamed, knowing in her heart it was futile, but not caring.
The men followed her, and the one who’d remained silent grabbed her around the waist and hauled her back against him. A picture was held up beside her head and the other man looked from the picture to her, and nodded.
“It’s her,” he said at long last, and Drew’s terror only grew.
Oh God, oh god, oh god.
“I don’t know who you’re looking for,” she began, thinking to lie her way out of it.
“We’re looking for you,” he responded, and Drew watched as his eyes, which had been a gray color, faded to black before their entirety grew dark. It was like looking into an abyss.
“Please. I didn’t do anything, I won’t tell anyone….” Her words faded as her eyelids grew heavy. Everything grew heavy.
“No, you won’t,” the man agreed.
That was the last she heard before the world went black.
***
“Conall?”
He opened his eyes and looked down at Vivienne, lying against him. They sat outside on a garden chair toward the end of the Cedar Creek forest. After their breakfast, where she had once more surprised him by the amount she consumed, they’d dressed and had taken a stroll. During that time, she’d told him she thought the darkness within her was a part of her druid powers. He’d listened, intrigued about that possibility, as she went over the phone calls she’d had with her mother.
The conversation had then turned to his family, to which Conall replied that the pack, which she would soon belong to, was his family. In true Vivienne fashion, she’d prodded more, wanting to know about his siblings, his parents, his blood family. And so he’d told her most of it. He told her that his parents had been alphas of the pack in Ireland, that when his father died, Gregory had taken over and moved them to Scotland, where he met Sloan. When Gregory died, Sloan had taken his position as alpha. She’d seemed about to press about his brother’s death, but something in his expression must have told her he didn’t want to discuss it because she only kissed his jaw, and leaned into him. They’d remained like that for long minutes, until she called his name.
“Yes, alainn?”
“When is my blood rite with Samia?”
He tensed immediately. Damn it, he had tried hard to block that out. He and the Elders had met a few days prior and Brennus had demanded Saturday for the rite. When there had been no cause for opposition to that date, the Elders had agreed on it. Conall said nothing. He hadn’t intended to. Moments before the meeting, Zahira had asked for some time alone with him. There she’d pointed out very important details that had gone over Conall’s angry head. If he still refused to give Samia the blood rite, Brennus could take his pleas to the pack again, and there was a possibly they would hurt Vivienne. The pack wasn’t stupid enough to challenge Conall, but they might go after her, especially as she would be seen as weak. The other thing was the lack of respect that would be shown Vivienne as alpha bitch if she did not face Samia.
The females were a particularly vicious bunch, and much like the males, held themselves by rank. Samia had been a strong contender for alpha bitch, as she was able to defeat most female opponents. If Vivienne didn’t fight her and was seen to cower, the females in the pack would ridicule and possibly attack her. He hadn’t thought of that, and when Zahira pointed it out, he’d felt the urge to kick Brennus and his goddamn hell-spawn out of his pack. But it was done, the pack had approved it and they expected a blood rite. Zahira had then pointed out she’d been one of the people to witness Vivienne hold off Samia that day when she’d blacked out, and his mate was strong. And so, when Brennus had demanded Saturday, Conall had pictured himself wringing the Elder’s neck, but he’d held his tongue.
“Vivienne, you don’t have to fight this blood rite against Samia. You’re not a wolf and you’re not a part of the pack. These laws don’t apply to you.” He’d listened to Zahira, yes, but he still feared for his mate. He didn’t mind if she didn’t win. He minded her getting hurt, and possibly killed.
She nodded and repeated, “When’s the date?”
“Brennus wanted Saturday,” Conall told her. “But again, it isn’t necessary. If you want this whole thing called off, just tell me.”
Lifting her head from his chest, she smirked up at him. “If I tell you yes, you’ll march over to the Elders like the big bad alpha you are and tell them there’ll be no blood rite?”
“I’ll march over to the Elders, and the entire pack, if you want me to.”
She clucked her tongue and chuckled. Vivienne was obviously not as worried as he.
“So Saturday it is,” she murmured, leaning her head against his shoulder.
“Vivienne—”
“Conall, can you do something for me?”
He sighed, feeling the tension drain from his shoulders. Finally, she was going to tell him she didn’t want to fight Samia, and he was going to take pleasure in walking over to Brennus’s house and telling the Elder, and his daughter, that they’d better not mention “blood rite” and his mate in the same sentence, or he was going to personally throw their asses out of Cedar Creek. “Anything, alainn.”
“Change.”
“What?”
She pulled away from him, moving to the further side of the chair.
“Change into your wolf. Please.”
“That’s all?” he asked, feeling disappointment rush his being. The tension was returning. He could feel it.
He felt the soft brush of her inside his mind.
Yes, that’s all. I’ve never seen your wolf up close, Conall, and I’d like a proper introduction.
Standing, he stripped out of his shirt, and undid his belt.
“Slowly, please,” Vivienne called out, and Conall lifted a brow at her. She sent him a wicked smile and he shook his head. His mate was such a little minx. A hot little minx. His wolf agreed.
He drew off his pants more slowly, and she nodded in approval, leaning back in the chair as if enjoying a particularly good show.
Clad only in his boxers, on this particularly cold day, Conall felt a thrill of excitement shoot up his spine, and slowly turned his back to her.
“No, no, no—”
He tugged his boxers off and tossed them over his shoulder. Turning, he was not at all surprised to find her holding them.
Cheater.
He laughed. It was so easy to tease and be teased by her. She made him forget many things, and remember the more important ones. Family. He’d told her the pack was his family, and it had been the truth, but she was going to be his
family, the family he took everywhere with him, because she was inside of him. And if—when—she conceived for him, they would expand that family. He briefly wondered what their children would be? Would his genes come out dominant, or hers? It didn’t matter. He’d never thought he’d find a true mate, had always assumed he’d make a political connection.
He turned around, taking in her heated expression as her eyes traveled his naked length.
Calling up his wolf, he clenched his teeth against the pleasure-mixed pain that tore through him as muscles, joints, bones, tendons and ligaments rearranged themselves.
***
How beautiful could one man be in two different forms? Extremely so.
Vivienne sighed as she watched the change occur. The bright light hid most of the change from her, but she had seen his head go back, his neck arch out, and in the next instant, the black wolf sat on its hindquarters, watching her.
A little frisson of fear engulfed her before she dismissed it. Yes, he was a wolf, but he was also Conall. She was safe.
The wolf suddenly stood, and her heart thundered. Already tall and broad in human form, Conall was massive as a wolf. He was likely more than four and a half feet tall, with those yellow eyes. She guessed he weighed over one fifty pounds, close to two hundred, which meant he could tackle and kill her. Especially with those razor-sharp white teeth she’d glimpsed when he’d opened his mouth.
He remained where he was for long moments, and then slowly moved toward her. It’s Conall, she reminded herself. Conall, who could be extremely gentle when he wanted, Conall her lover, Conall her mate. He stopped directly before her, and she could feel his breath against her knee. And then he moved his head forward and placed his head in her lap, closing his eyes.
Vivienne remained still for a few seconds, before moving her fingers across his head. His fur was so soft. She smiled, running her fingers over his cold nose, then over his ears. He growled and she pulled her hand away, only to have him push his head further against her. She returned her fingers to his ear, watching as he tilted his head further into her hand, and decided that was a growl of pleasure.
Before long, she was on her knees, her hands buried in the thick coat of his pelt, as she stared into those yellow eyes. Leaning forward, she kissed the top of his head, and said, “Conall, you’re beautiful.”
A second later, his tongue licked the side of her face, and she drew, surprised. At her expression, his tongue lolled out the side of his mouth. She laughed, knowing he was laughing, too.
You are the beautiful one, alainn.
“Well, if this isn’t what humans call adorable, I don’t know what is.”
Chapter Fifteen
Conall spun so suddenly that Vivienne lost her balance and fell backward, landing on her butt. She was reminded briefly of their first encounter, when she’d run into him at the state park, when she lifted her gaze. Her smile disappeared and she sat up. Conall was slowly circling a man. A low growl came from his throat, a sound that was clearly a warning, as the black wolf moved with lethal grace.
“Is this the proper way to greet the prodigal son, Conall?”
Pushing to her feet, Vivienne trained her eyes on the wolf, whose slow and stealthy pace had not changed. He looked like a caged jungle cat, stalking back and forth behind iron bars, but there was no cage, and this creature was definitely no cat. The man, whom she recognized as Rafael, was also watching Conall, turning so as never to give Conall his back. They looked like they were gearing up for an epic fight.
“Rafe!” Vivienne didn’t have to look to know that Conall had halted, and trained his burning gaze on her. She could feel his displeasure as much as if it were her own.
“Ah yes, Vivienne. You can vouch for me. Tell Conall that I was nothing but a gentleman when I walked you home last night.”
The growl grew fiercer, louder. The circling resumed once more.
“Er—right,” Vivienne replied, sending a quick glance to Conall. She took a few steps in his direction, wondering why he was reacting like this to Rafael, and why Rafael was even here. The man seemed to have some type of death wish. Shaking her head, she concentrated on Conall.
Conall, I’m tired. I really want to lie down.
A particularly vicious snarl left his lips and he came to a stop directly before Rafael. She was thinking of throwing in a “Conall, I feel sick” when the familiar bright light erupted and Conall, in human form, appeared where the wolf was, his body in a crouch. He rose quickly, and stormed over to Rafael.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Vivienne took it upon herself to move even closer to the two. Now that Conall the wolf was safely tucked somewhere inside Conall the man, it seemed less likely there would be an all-out brawl. And then she remembered Conall and Max lugging each other all over the place in the lobby of that apartment building, and decided the best way to prevent the fight was to get them away from each other—but how?
“My family’s here, and so is my pack,” Rafael responded, a trace of anger in his voice. At that moment, his gaze left Conall and landed on her. She saw something burn in his green eyes moments before Conall released a warning growl. It caught Rafael’s attention because he looked warily back to Conall.
“My pack, not yours.” Conall took a step closer, and Vivienne did the same, trying to get close to the two men without getting in their way. She was trying to prevent a fight, but at the same time, she wasn’t trying to get caught between Conall and the person pissing him off. “Leave!”
Rafael scoffed and shook his head. “I just got here. Last night, as a matter of fact. I’ve been hearing all sorts of things about this pack, and I just had to see for myself that they’re true.”
“Hearing things from whom?” Conall demanded. “Your father or your sister?”
At that moment, something clicked in Vivienne’s mind and she gasped. That was who he reminded her of: Samia. Rafael looked like Samia. Well, not exactly, but if Samia were a man, she’d look like Rafael.
Green eyes narrowed. “What does it matter, if it’s all true?”
“The only reason you’re not dead right now is because it would offend my mate to see your entrails laid out on the ground.”
She’d always assumed people who said things like that were joking, because who would be strong enough to pull someone’s entrails out and scatter them about on the ground? But when Conall spoke, it was a finality that attested to his violent capabilities, and a confidence that said he would see it through.
“That’s assuming that you can kill me,” Rafael retorted with a vicious little smile.
Conall’s reply was immediate. “I can, and if you don’t leave now, I will.”
“Well, you’ll get a chance to prove that all over again, won’t you?” Rafael replied before taking three steps back. “Only reason I’m here is because some of the Elders think its time for a change in leadership. You’ve been alpha for a long time without challenge, and some are thinking your judgment’s been off of late.”
Vivienne gasped. What? A feeling of foreboding settled in on her. Why did she have the distinct feeling this was all because of her?
“Are you challenging me, Rafael?” Conall asked quietly, so quietly shewas certain she wouldn’t have heard it without her new druid senses.
“That’s the only reason I’m here,” Rafael replied, and then he seemed to think about that as he looked past Conall to Vivienne. A grin touched his lips. “Well, that’s one of the reasons I’m here. I’ve just found another.”
A feeling of rage reared inside Vivienne and she gasped, forcing herself to breathe through it. She wasn’t angry, but Conall was. She could feel his emotion, almost as if it were her own. Closing her eyes, she savored it. And then she blinked. Why was she savoring his rage? She was supposed to be talking him down!
“What’s the other?” Conall asked in a voice that was deceptively soft. “Just so we’re clear.”
Rafael’s eyes left her and he threw Conall a mocking
glare. “After meeting Vivienne, I’ve decided that I want your title, and I want her as well.”
“Excuse me?” Vivienne began, outraged at this obviously crazed man. She wasn’t a bone they could fight over, and there was no way Rafe was getting her.
“So you’re challenging me for my position and my mate?” Conall asked, and Vivienne found it surprising his voice was so calm when his rage was hitting new levels in his body and sending her into overdrive.
Rafael nodded. “I want everything that once belonged to you. Everything.”
A large wolf suddenly broke through the clearing. His pelt was a multitude of dark colors, mostly gray and black, but the fur around his muzzle and neck was a pristine white.
He stopped a few feet from Conall, and turned to growl at Rafael. Moments later, another wolf, this one blond and just as big as the other, skidded to a halt on the other side of the gray wolf, and mimicked him.
“Call off your mutts, Conall.” Rafael’s eyes flashed yellow as he stared at the new arrivals.
“Leave him,” Conall barked, and the two wolves stopped their growling, but made no move to retreat.
“Saturday,” Conall groused.
“So soon?” Rafael lifted a brow. It was Friday.
“You win, you can have my title.”
“And Vivienne,” Rafael added, only to have Conall snarl and take a few steps in his direction.
“Conall….” Vivienne’s voice trailed off, but it was enough to bring the angry alpha under control. “No.”
Rafael shrugged, a quick movement of his shoulders under his leather jacket. “Whatever. When you’re dead, she’ll come to me willingly.”
Vivienne almost wished Conall would attack him now. She wasn’t even going to hold him back. Rafael was ridiculous, and deserved to have some sense and manners knocked into him.
To prove his stupidity, he smiled at her, biting his bottom lip. In less than a second, Conall charged him, flinging him easily into a tree and waiting as he righted himself. Rafael seemed ready to retaliate, but he dusted off his leather jacket and shook his head. “No use fighting you out here when the pack’s not watching. Tomorrow.”
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