Wolf Pawn: A Dark Mafia Shifter Romance (Wolves of New York Book 2)

by Bella Jacobs

  Dad reaches out, clapping me on the back. “I knew all those weekends camping and stargazing would pay off. I’m proud of you, son.”

  “Be proud of me once our people are safe,” I say, wondering what Dad would think if he knew about the conversation I had with Willow last night.

  Knowing my father, he’d be horrified. But then, he wasn’t above forcing me into a marriage. Maybe he’d be okay with me forcing a pregnancy, too.

  But I can’t bring myself to ask him about that, and I’m actually grateful to hear Cam pipe up for once.

  “Speaking of keeping people safe,” he says in rough voice. “I reached out to Maggie’s protegee to fact check everything she shared with us. I was worried she might have led us astray, but it looks like the intelligence was solid even though she was…compromised.” He clears his throat. “I’m sorry for that. It never entered my mind that she couldn’t be trusted.”

  “It never entered mine, either,” I assure him. “It’s all right. I don’t blame you, Cam. We’re all doing the best we can right now. There’s going to be a lot of fumbling in the dark before we find our way.”

  He nods, his gaze fixed on the floor. “I appreciate your understanding, but I intend to be more careful in the future.”

  “And I intend to get to the morgue before ten a.m.,” Dad grumbles. “We should get going. Anton has been on duty since midnight. He’ll want to get some rest soon.”

  We head down to the morgue, where we learn the boy who caught fire in the theater’s loading bay was a rare black bear shifter, one of a pair of twins. Anton used dental records to connect the teenager to a community wiped out by a mine explosion fifteen years ago.

  A community in Pennsylvania…

  It’s not a smoking gun, but it’s another connection that might lead to my brother.

  “The boy said the person who sent him threatened to kill his sister to get him to cooperate,” I say as Anton covers the charred body with a sheet. “Any word on where the sister is now?”

  Anton shakes his head. “Before this, neither of them had been seen in years. The woman I spoke to in the missing shifters department said they ran away from a foster home not long after they turned twelve and have most likely been living in the forest since then. She said she would get a tip about a couple of kids who matched their descriptions out alone in the woods every few months but didn’t investigate too hard. Bear shifters are so vulnerable to human disease, she figured if they were doing okay out on their own, it might be the best place for them.”

  “And where was this woman based?” I ask, trying not to get my hopes up.

  The coroner’s brow furrows. “The name of the town slips my mind, but it was in Jefferson County.”

  I exchange a look with Dad, whose eyes are lit up.

  Jefferson County borders the old growth forest I sent the scouts to investigate. With a little bit of luck, we could have an idea where my brother is hiding out within a day or two.

  It’s promising news, but not promising enough to guarantee we’ll be able to eliminate the threat Bane poses without worrying about the prophecy. Even if I manage to lock my brother up and throw away the key, he has allies. Lots of allies. And the only way to dissuade them from attacking us to free Bane would be to prove Willow and I are the favored fated mates.

  My gut is still insisting that we don’t have a choice—we have to at least try to conceive a child—and then I get the text from the fertility expert on my way to my office, alerting me that Willow refused the physical examination, and my indecision vanishes.

  If Willow won’t work with me to make informed choices for the good of our people, then I will make them for her.

  I have no choice.

  I really don’t, no matter how much I wish I did.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Willow

  After an unexpectedly easy escape from Maxim’s patchouli-scented fertility specialist—Hermione arrives at Diana’s front door just as the battle over whether or not I’ll be disrobing for a full exam is building steam—I spend the rest of the morning in the physics weeds with several very clever and passionate scientists.

  We talk causality, sub-atomic particles, and light cones until Hermione excuses herself to track down pain reliever for her aching head.

  And then the youngest science nerd, Caddie, gives me a tour of the lab.

  “And we pretty much set our own project schedules, too,” she says, motioning to a white board in the breakroom. “You just have to make sure you plan your hours a few weeks out to avoid overcrowding.”

  She glances over her shoulder, before leaning in and whispering, “Or sharing space with someone you can’t stand. Marty always brings the most repulsive lunches and stinks up the entire floor. If you start working here, he’s the one to avoid. Also, Camilla, if you don’t like punk rock. She plays it so loud you can hear it through her headphones.”

  “I love punk,” I say, catching her excitement.

  I haven’t had much time lately to miss being in the lab, but now, I do. I miss the comforting rhythm of testing, recording, and analyzing data. I miss using the puzzle solving part of my brain for something other than figuring out how to stay alive and remembering who I’m lying to about what.

  Which reminds me…

  I have to figure out what to say to keep my fated mate from freaking out about my refusal to let his fertility expert all up in my lady parts.

  “I should go,” I tell Caddie, my smile fading. “I’m meeting Maxim for lunch. But thanks so much for the tour.”

  She nods. “Oh, yeah, sure. My pleasure. I would ask you to say ‘hi’ to him, but Maxim intimidates the hell out of me. He’s a much scarier Alpha than his dad ever was.” She lifts a hand and hurries to add, “but I’m sure he’s perfectly nice and will be an awesome husband.”

  My lips hook up on one side. “He has potential, but the jury’s still out on his awesome levels.”

  Her eyes go wide, and she glances over her shoulder again before turning back to whisper, “You go, girl. I like you. Don’t take any shit from your man. Even if he is gigantic, gorgeous, and terrifying.”

  I laugh. “I intend to try.” I ask her if she’d like to join my female pack member focus group, she agrees, and I head for the elevators to meet Hermione, rolling my latest problem over and over in my head.

  What am I going to do if Maxim insists on trying to get me pregnant?

  Will I be able to resist him?

  Will he take ‘no’ for an answer, if I muster up the willpower to say it?

  And how am I going to explain the fact that I’m still a virgin? Surely, he’ll notice. If my hymen is intact enough for Victor’s doctor to see it in a physical exam, then Maxim will notice it if he…

  When he…

  God, I’m going to have sex with Maxim. Maybe after we’re married, maybe sooner than that, but eventually we’re going to do the horizontal hula. The dirty deed. We’re going to take a trip to pound town, and I will finally know what it’s like to have sex.

  It should be exciting—I haven’t enjoyed being a virgin for a very long time—but like everything in my life lately, this has become so…fraught.

  I stop beside Hermione by the elevators, bringing my hands to my suddenly flushed cheeks.

  “Everything all right?” she asks.

  “Wonderful,” I lie. “Really amazingly great.”

  She grunts. “You could have picked a less stressful time to join our pack. No doubt about that.”

  I glance up at her. “Are you scared? Because I’m…really scared. About just about everything.”

  Her gaze softens. “Me, too.” She gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “But I’ve got your back, okay?”

  “And I’ve got yours,” I assure her, wishing I could trust her with my secret.

  But…maybe I can.

  Surely, she would understand.

  I pull in a breath, heart racing as I prepare to confess all and beg for advice or shelter from Maxim’s wrath—which
ever she feels is necessary—when her cell beeps several times.

  She pulls it from her pocket and glances down, frowning as she reads, “Looks like Maxim’s been detained. He won’t be able to meet us for lunch, but he wants to do dinner with you. Seven o’clock.” She glances my way. “Is that okay with you?”

  I sigh. “I’m pretty sure he’s giving an order, not asking for a date, but yes. I can do dinner. It’s not like I have a packed social calendar.”

  “But you will,” she assures me. “We’ll get through this crisis, you’ll find your place and your people, and you’ll be happy here. And Maxim can be very charming. He just has a lot on his plate right now.”

  I bob my head as the elevator arrives with a ding. “Oh, I know. I totally get it. I mean, I’m struggling with how to feel about Kelley, and at least she seems to want to keep me around. If she were just flat-out trying to murder me and take control of my pack…”

  “It’s tearing Maxim apart,” Hermione says as we step into the car and she presses the button for the atrium level. “He worshiped Bane. This kind of betrayal…” She trails off with a sigh. “I just hope he comes out whole on the other side.”

  Betrayal. Ugh.

  I haven’t betrayed Maxim, but I’ve sure as hell thought about it. And I’ve lied to him—for understandable reasons, I think, but it remains to be seen how he’ll feel about it.

  A fretful, anxious gloom settles around my shoulders, but that just makes me fit in with the rest of the pack.

  Gloom is the mood of the day.

  As Hermione and I buy lunch and settle in at a table, the atrium is so much quieter than it was the last time I was here. Even the kids playing on the playground seem subdued. But they can probably sense how stressed their caregivers are today.

  The thought gives me an idea…

  “What’s Maxim’s favorite dessert, Hermione?” I ask. “Do you know?”

  She looks up from her plate. “I don’t know. He’s not much of a dessert guy.”

  I sag lower in my chair. “Oh. I was just thinking I could make him something for after supper. Something to lift his spirits a little.”

  She smiles. “I think he’d love that. The thought behind it, at least, even if he hated the dessert. I say go for it. Make something you like and hopefully he’ll have the sense to like it, too.”

  I nod, my lips curving. “Okay. I will. I know dessert can’t make up for all the bad stuff, but…it’s something.”

  “It is,” she agrees. “And a little kindness can go a long way.”

  “I hope so,” I say, and not just because I’d like to soften Maxim up so he’s in a good mood when I decide to come clean.

  I truly want to give him comfort and hope.

  I want him to know I’m on his side.

  I just need him to be on mine, too.

  I spend the afternoon sifting through Diana’s thankfully well-stocked pantry, making scones for Diana, cookies for Hermione, and a special something for Maxim, doing my best not to think about worst case scenarios.

  For now, I choose to have faith that Maxim and I will find a way to work together. I have to believe that he will respect my boundaries and see that rushing into having a baby isn’t the answer to this problem.

  The more I mull it over, the more terrifying the thought of getting pregnant becomes. I’m already small and relatively powerless, and I feel like I’m walking a razor’s edge between tenuous safety and certain doom.

  I’m in no position to protect myself, let alone a child.

  And there’s a chance I wouldn’t be able to shift once I conceive. Some women can, some can’t, and there’s no way of knowing which you are until you’re knocked up for the first time.

  If I couldn’t shift…

  If I were trapped in my vulnerable, awkward, pregnant human body while the people hunting me are free to embrace every physical advantage, from their superior size and strength to their teeth and claws….

  I shudder, just imagining the scenario is enough to make my stomach turn to stone.

  I can’t do that to myself or my baby.

  I can’t, and I won’t.

  As I dress for dinner in a simple black dress and black ballet flats, I work on building up my resistance to my fated mate. I can’t afford a single misstep and sleeping with Maxim before the wedding would be a massive one. Once we’re married, he won’t be able to kick me out to sink or swim on my own. He’ll have to keep me around and, given time, I’m certain I can make him understand why I lied about how far things went when Pax attacked me.

  And by then, he might be so busy fighting his brother’s army that learning his wife lied about being a virgin might not seem like such a big deal in comparison.

  “Not a good thing to hope for,” I remind myself as I fetch my peace offering from the top of Diana’s stove and follow the guard sent to fetch me toward the elevators.

  I don’t want things to go badly for this pack.

  I want to find a solution to the current insanity and bring peace to the shifter world. Given how many people seem to believe in the prophecy, Maxim and I might actually be able to make significant strides in that direction. So often, it seems like the most important ingredient for change is enough people believing it’s possible.

  I’m not sure what I think about the prophecy, but I absolutely believe things can change for the better. We can take back The Parallel from the violent packs, protect the weaker shifters who’ve been brutalized for so long, and work toward building a culture that respects and protects all its people.

  I have hope.

  Then the elevator stops on one of the top floors, opening to reveal a sun-drenched patio filled with trees and flowers, and my hope shines a little brighter. And then I see him—my fiancé—seated at a table with a view of the entire city spread out behind him, looking pensive, but so beautiful and familiar that I can’t help myself…

  I find myself hoping even harder.

  Hoping for…us.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Maxim

  I shift my gaze to see Willow walking toward me from the elevator bank, the sunlight catching her hair, bringing out the auburn in her dark brown curls.

  She’s wearing a dress that shows off her curves, carrying a small glass pan, and…smiling.

  Like she’s actually happy to see me.

  She’s so beautiful, and that smile so damned sweet and hopeful, that for a moment, my heart stops. It just…stops, holding its breath and its beating, waiting to see what I’m going to do next.

  Am I going to rethink this before I ruin any chance of happiness with this woman I don’t want to live without?

  Or will I stick to my guns and ignore the twist in my gut that insists this isn’t right, no matter how much is on the line?

  It doesn’t matter if it’s right or wrong. If you don’t save this pack, you won’t have a future, and neither will Willow.

  You can’t live ‘happily ever after’ when you’re both dead.

  The inner voice is right.

  Desperate times call for desperate measures and if I have to betray Willow to save Willow…then that’s what I intend to do. Hopefully, when this is all over and North Star tower is still standing because of the hard choices I made, she’ll be able to understand why I did what I did.

  But she’ll never forgive me.

  I sense that deep in my churning stomach as I stand to pull out her chair and she lifts the pie in her hands between us. “For you,” she says, tipping the perfectly browned confection back and forth to show off the crust. “I figured you could use a little sweet after all the sour the past few days.”

  My brows lift as I accept the still-warm gift. “You…made this?”

  “Yeah,” she says with a self-conscious laugh. “My mom called it October Pie because it uses fruits that are ripe in the fall. And raisins,” she adds, lifting a defensive hand in the air, “but there’s dark rum and spice in the filling, too. The raisins soak it all up and taste incredible with th
e pears and apples. They’re doing some heavy lifting, you know? They’re not like normal, lazy raisins that just hang out in a cookie being chewy and gross.”

  Fuck.

  Just hearing her talk about raisins makes my chest warm and tight.

  I’m falling in love with this woman. I want to pull her into my arms and kiss her and tell her this pie is the best thing that’s happened to me in months, and that she’s the best thing that’s happened to me in even longer.

  But saying shit like that would only make what I’m about to do even worse.

  So, I simply nod and say, “Thank you. It sounds amazing. I can’t wait to try it.” I set the pie on the table and reach for her chair, “How was the lab? I heard you had a tour?”

  She settles into her seat, beaming up at me as I push it in. “It was incredible. And you have some brilliant people working there. Kind and funny, too. I think I might have even made a new friend.” She bobs a shy shoulder. “I know it’s probably not the time to be thinking about things like that, with so much crazy stuff going on, but it was nice to chat with a kindred spirit.”

  “It’s a perfect time to make new friends. We need all the friends we can get.” I reach for my wine glass, my heart slamming hard in my chest as I lift it into the air. “A toast to new friends and hope for the future?”

  Her features soften as she reaches for her glass. “Yes. To new friends and hope. That’s…perfect.”

  Oh, but it’s not, little wolf.

  It’s so fucking far from perfect you have no idea.

  I take a sip of the wine, my stomach turning to stone as I watch her drink over the rim of my glass. That’s it, then. I put enough Hunger powder in her glass that even a single sip should get the job done.

  The fairy who sold me the powder was a stranger—I was too ashamed to ask Trix for something like this—but Sven has a tight and devoted following. I have no doubt he delivered potent product. Which means, in ten minutes or so, Willow should be all over me, begging me to fuck her like an addict after a fix. She’ll be so out of her mind with need—with Hunger—that she’ll take my dick any way she can get it.