by Michele Hauf
“My father told me…” she started.
Spine straightening, Tryst immediately sensed what she couldn’t quite say. Hell, the principal had told her about his mixed blood. Of course, if the man wanted to protect his daughter from a nonpack wolf he would use whatever weapon he had at hand.
“What did he tell you? About me?”
He wasn’t about to make it easy for her. For anyone. So he had a chip on his shoulder about his heritage. Anyone wanted to make a big deal about it? He knew how to throw a punch. He had a missing molar, too, because he could also take a punch.
Lexi sighed and smoothed a gloved finger along the seam of her leather pants. “He warned me to stay away from you because…”
“Because why? Because I’m a strong male who knows how to take care of a woman? Because I don’t mind getting my hands dirty to help another pack? Because I respect your father?” Feeling his ire, he flexed a fist.
“Because you’re a half-breed.”
Tryst pulled up his chin and released his fists. The principal had gotten his information messed up. “I’m full wolf,” he said, cautioning the growl on his tone.
“How is that possible? Your father is half wolf, half vampire, and your mother—”
“Is a vampiress. But I don’t have any vampire in me, trust me on that one.”
“Sounds impossible.”
“Yeah?” He couldn’t punch his way out of this one. Damn. “And are you offended by the idea I might have a touch of vampire blood running through my veins?”
“I—”
“You pack wolves are all alike.” He stood and kicked the toe of his boot against the stone step to shake off the packed snow, and to avert his growing anger. “You’re all so tightly knit and exclusive. New guy comes along and you feel threatened.”
“I didn’t say that I’m threatened by you. Nor did I say—”
“Yeah, whatever.”
He stomped up the steps, knowing if he didn’t leave her now he’d only give her a real growl. And he would never do that to a pack leader’s daughter. Any woman, for that matter.
Wow. She’d just strummed his chords and what an awful tune.
“I’m going to find something to eat, then get back to work shoveling out your pretty little castle, Miss Princess Trueblood.”
So maybe he didn’t have as good a handle on this challenge as he’d thought.
* * *
“Arrogant idiot,” Lexi muttered after the angry wolf who stomped inside. “The vampire thing definitely rubs him the wrong way.”
And rightly so, she figured. Vamps and wolves had been at odds for centuries. They honored an ineffable ceasefire at the moment, but there weren’t a lot of wolves who would embrace a vampire as friend. Her father was friends with Trystan’s father, Rhys Hawkes, but it was more a political relationship than an embraceable acceptance.
For good reason. Wolves didn’t go near vamps because if bitten by a vampire the wolf would develop an insatiable bloodlust, and werewolves did not drink blood or feed on humans. Ever. It was an abominable practice. And vampires avoided wolves because they knew the wolf was stronger and could beat the crap out of them with one fist tied behind their backs.
So a young werewolf who had been born of a vampiress and a half-breed couldn’t possibly be full-blooded wolf. Why did he believe that?
Of course, if he hadn’t a hunger for blood perhaps that led Trystan to such a belief. But the blood hunger could emerge anytime. Lexi knew well that, genetically, things didn’t always go as nature had intended in a wolf’s body.
Removing her sunglasses, she didn’t wince at the bright yard light. Light didn’t bother her eyes so much as she would have others believe. Perhaps she was lying to herself as much as Hawkes lied to himself about having vampire blood in him?
He thought she held his mixed blood against him? Nothing had changed since she’d witnessed his selfless heroics. Save, now she knew her father would be upset if she so much as looked at Trystan Hawkes.
But she couldn’t stop looking at him. He was beautiful, in body, mind and spirit. The world responded to his energy? What a cool life philosophy. And he was working that relationship with the universe in his favor. He continued to fascinate her, and more so now that he denied a part of his heritage. Her father would be crushed to learn what she thought about the unaligned werewolf. And yet, she’d never felt so rebellious in all her years and it was a feeling she wanted to explore.
But Hawkes must now think she hated him. She didn’t like it when people formed the wrong opinion about her. The man needed to be set straight regarding how she felt about him.
Before heading to her room, she veered toward the lobby to check on the operations out front. The helicopter that had delivered the doctor had been able to land a mile up the road and the doctor had walked to the castle, but he’d reported that crews working six leagues south were clearing away where another avalanche had hit the edge of a village, so it could be days before the road crews reached Wulfsiege.
Perfectly fine. The pack owned a snowplow, which was parked in the shed, and the last she’d heard, the shed had finally been dug out. Soon, the area could be cleared, and crews could start working on repairing the damage to the castle walls. Life could get back to normal.
As normal as it could be with the principal up in the tower, suffering from an unknown ailment.
Hearing shouts outside in the courtyard, Lexi rushed through the boarded aisle leading from the front doors that had been hastily put up to keep the snow from blocking the entrance. She saw two wolves going at it near the big gold Caterpillar snowplow. Sven was easily recognized by his hard, square jaw, pale Nordic coloring and alpha growls as he swung a punch at the other wolf, who she also recognized.
So the lone wolf was getting into a fight against a pack wolf? Not wise. But surprisingly, a close physical match to Sven, who was the biggest, most brutish wolf in the pack. She’d sensed Tryst’s growing aggression sitting out back on the steps. Perhaps he’d sought a means to expel the anger she had aroused in him?
An overwhelming desire to watch the Hawkes wolf in action pushed her to the edge of the circle surrounding the fight. No one made a move to tear the fighters apart. All cheered on Sven, their Nordic Warrior.
“Why are they doing this?” she asked Liam, who stood beside her.
Arms crossed in defiance of the fight—Liam had a tendency to take a stand on unnecessary violence—he said, “The new wolf thought he could handle the plow better than Sven—and he probably can—but you know the Nord.”
A few of them used the Nord in a less than complimentary manner toward the boisterous wolf.
Truth was, Sven was an arrogant asshole. But Lexi would never tell her sister that. Though, there were days she suspected Lana was not so ignorant regarding her fiancé’s less than valorous traits. Sven was just another doll for her collection that she’d play with, then tuck away when bored. When Father had suggested they get engaged a few months ago Lana had agreed because it had put a smile on the principal’s face. But Lexi sensed her sister had already grown tired of the Nord. And there were days she wondered if she should intervene, suggest she consider their engagement more seriously, and really think about the ramifications of spending the rest of her life as the man’s wife. What did they really know about him since he’d arrived here a year earlier claiming he was the only survivor of a vicious vampire attack?
“They’re fighting over who gets to play with the big toy?” Lexi sighed and had to jump back when Trystan’s body tumbled toward her and slid across the ice to a stop before her boots.
He looked up, spit aside blood and flashed her a red smile. “Hey, Princess.”
“Let Sven drive the plow,” she said.
“He’s never operated the thing before. He’ll blow out the hydraulics.”
Yes, he probably would, but she’d prefer that to seeing Tryst get his face pummeled just to protect the pack’s expensive equipment. Was the man really so concerned over
the correct operation of the machine, or was this some kind of power play?
Knowing Sven, it was a power play. But she wasn’t sure about Trystan. He couldn’t know that Sven was one step below the deceased scion and currently held all the power in this pack.
Liam helped Trystan up, and the red-haired wolf immediately dove toward Sven. Lexi couldn’t watch. And then, she couldn’t keep her eyes from the powerful muscles that flexed under the blue sweater wrapping Tryst’s amazing form. Where Sven was bulky and brutal, Trystan was lean, solid and agile. He dodged the punches more easily than his opponent, yet he didn’t pack the strength behind his hits as Sven did. Rangy, he masterfully danced away from punches, and even those he took directly, he took with a growl and a smirking call for more.
“Marvelous,” she murmured, then bit her tongue, hoping no one had heard her. Watching Tryst move warmed parts of her body that should put a blush on any woman’s face. Lexi’s lashes fluttered behind the dark sunglasses.
Again Tryst’s body went flying, to land in the arms of a pack wolf opposite where Lexi stood. The lone wolf’s eyelids shuttered. Blood streamed from his mouth, yet that goofy grin was fixed, as if cemented there by blood.
Please stay down for the count, she found herself thinking. And then, So I can tend your wounds.
“Had enough, outsider?” Sven barked at his opponent. He flexed his arms, tearing the shirt from his back to reveal what four hours a day in the gym had enhanced. Impossibly huge, veiny muscles.
Lexi was not impressed. And even less so when Sven winked at her. What a brutal pig.
“Fine,” Trystan answered. “Destroy your only means of getting Wulfsiege shoveled out.” He pushed from the man who had caught him and again spit blood on the pounded snow. “This isn’t my pack. I don’t give a crap if you want to break the expensive equipment.”
He stalked off toward the castle lobby, and Lexi turned to follow, but not before asking Liam to give Sven instructions on how to operate the machine.
She tracked Trystan’s angry march toward the guest room, and before he got to the door he called back, “What do you want, Princess?”
“I just…” She had been looking for him before she’d come upon him fighting. “I had wanted to say something to you.”
He bled at the temple and on the shoulder, and his sweater had been torn to reveal where repeated pummels from Sven’s iron fist had left his skin red. Her fingers twitched to touch him, to offer tender reassurance, but she knew the male wolf all too well, and cautioned her need to pamper when what the man wanted was to stomp and punch and break something.
“So?” he insisted angrily. “What did you want to say to the outsider with the mixed heritage who seems to offend you by merely standing in your air?”
Stiffening her spine, Lexi lifted her chin. “I wanted to tell you that there’s not a thing about you that offends me. So take that and shove it up your pity party, wolf.”
Striding off, she aimed for her room, the only place she felt she could breathe and let her anger simmer. She’d wanted to offer the wolf a kindness and he’d forced her to deliver it with a blow. That wasn’t her.
Nor was the angry wolf really him, she suspected. All that aggression must really mess with his karmic energy. On the other hand, he’d kept bouncing back after every brutal punch, almost as if he’d felt he deserved the punishment.
She paused at a corner in the hallway and turned to find Trystan Hawkes standing before the guest room doorway, his gaze fixed on her. He’d watched her walk away.
Her fingers flexed around the stone corner, but her legs did not move. Why was it so hard to leave his regard? She could stand here forever as long as he never looked away.
Your father did warn you. You should heed that warning.
Indeed.
Lexi bowed her head and stepped around the corner, breaking the tantalizing connection with the Hawkes wolf.
Chapter 5
From the south window, Lexi spied movement out beyond the far running track. Actually it was the half-pipe that they kept plowed for the pack to use for exercise. Since the games were held every other year, this year it wasn’t groomed, but it was still in nice shape for the few wolves who liked to snowboard.
Who was out there now, so close to midnight?
She smiled when she realized it could only be one very interesting man with a penchant for taking charge and picking fights. “Hawkes.”
She wanted to rush out there, and then at the same time, she wanted to hit something. It hadn’t been his fault he’d snapped at her earlier. The man was tired, had just been beat on by the Nord, and well, she figured the guy must have a huge chip on his shoulder having grown up a half-breed.
“Give him a chance,” she whispered, feeling the rebel yell inside her flick a defiant finger at her father.
Knowing it would be wiser to turn around and head for the shower, instead she grabbed her white fox fur coat, put on her sunglasses, jammed her feet into some snow pants and boots and headed outside.
Time to discover the forbidden, and to see if it was worth all the fuss.
The half-pipe was a good walk away, but the moon beamed across the snow, imbuing it with a Faeryland glitter. Though she refrained from thinking about faeries, because she didn’t want to deal with their malice and mischief. One wrong thought could bring the vicious sidhe to this mortal realm. Natalie had warned her often enough when she was younger to never step inside a toadstool circle for she may never be allowed return from Faery.
The wind lifted sprinkles of snow across her face, blown up from the edge of the half-pipe where Trystan snowboarded. He must have found a board in the locker room.
Arriving at the end of the big U-shaped ditch carved into the icy snow, Lexi sat on the deck, hanging her legs over the edge to watch the wolf perform a midair flip with such ease she couldn’t help but whisper, “Wow.”
He moved down the pipe on his board, gliding from side to side, his body graceful and agile. Across the way from her he took the air, popping and performing a hand plant on the deck, and flipped over backward, his body straight, arms out as he twisted and expertly landed on the side of the iced pipe. The control he exhibited was seductive, his movements seamless and practiced. He flew through the air, hanging suspended for long breaths and then landing expertly. For a man his size and height, the grace he exhibited was surreal. And sensual.
Lexi propped her chin in her hand and lost herself in admiration.
Swooshing toward her, he came up and jumped out of the pipe with the ease of making a step. “You watching me, Princess?”
“Not much else to do this late at night. And I’m no Florence Nightingale. I prefer to stay out of the keep and let the others tend the injured. You’re very good. Must have lots of practice.”
“Winter sports are my favorite. An ice demon taught me how to shred the powder. Actually, he’s a werewolf inhabited by an incorporeal ice demon. Great friend, but a little chilly once every so often.” This time his wink did not bother her in the least. “The pipe needs grooming, but I can work with it.”
“That backward flip was impressive.”
“Just can’t keep your eyes off me, can you?”
She looked aside, rolling her eyes.
“Just because you’re wearing those sunglasses doesn’t mean I don’t know when you roll your eyes at me.” He thrust the board toward her. “Show me your best.”
“I don’t need to prove myself to you.”
“Ah, come on. I’m just chilling after a long day, trying to have some fun. Really needed it, especially after the little spat we had. I’m sorry. You were right and I was wrong.”
She lifted a brow. Someone had taught this guy all the right moves. But the statement felt too practiced so she wasn’t about to grant him the win yet.
“This is relaxing for you?”
“Hell yes. Winter sports are like breathing to me. How better to truly connect with the universe than when you are soaring weightless and withou
t a thought for anything but the now? I like to fly at the end of the day. Put out my energy into the world. Also, it takes the edge off the pain.”
She noticed the bruise on his jaw and was surprised because it should have healed by now. But then Sven’s fists were made of steel.
“Boys battling over their toys,” she said.
“Yeah, well, I haven’t heard the plow lately, have you? You think the big lug already broke it?”
“Sven may be stupid, but I don’t think he’d purposely try to destroy something so valuable. And it is late.”
“You know him better than I.” He stabbed the end of the board into the snowpack near her thigh. “So show me what you got. Oh, wait, I forgot.” He bent so his face was right before hers. “You’re a girl.”
“Taunting me with your macho misunderstanding will not get a reaction.”
“So you’re all that? You even know how to use the board?”
“Who do you think tests the pipe after it’s been made?”
“Seriously? Sweet! A chick who can handle the board. That’s tight. Now I really have to see what you’ve got. Come on, Lexi, don’t you want to show me up?”
Yes, yes, and oh, yes.
She grabbed the board and sized up the binding buckles. A little larger than her custom-made board, but they were adjustable, so would work in a pinch.
Shrugging off her coat, she tossed it aside. “Time to cut you down to size, Hawkes.”
* * *
The woman working the fur-rimmed boots and body-hugging white snow pants did not realize how sexy she was. Or maybe she did, and she just didn’t have the wherewithal to flaunt it at him.
“Nah, she likes me,” Tryst muttered. “She can’t stay away from me.” Why else would she walk all the way out here after he’d angrily stomped away from her earlier?
Admittedly, he’d never had a problem with conceit, and usually if he went after a woman, she reciprocated. Must be his charm. He got that from his dad. But he liked that Lexi was not easy. In fact, she was almost too cold. Almost. If her father had warned her against him, Tryst would say he was doing better than most right now.
