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Pack Princess: A Fantastical Werewolf Adventure (Wolf Rampant Book 2)

Page 12

by Aimee Easterling

Despite my best intentions to play it cool, my nostrils flared as Justin's ex-mate slipped her hand over top of the bloodling's, her lips moving near soundlessly in a jest that caused her dance partner to chuckle. That girl needs to keep her hands off our mate, I thought, the words more appropriate to my irrational wolf side but coming instead from my human mind.

  Then I realized that I was supposed to be repeating the same maneuver with the Gray alpha, and I snapped out of my reverie in time for the pack leader in question to lead me at a gallop down between the two lines of dancers. But as we pivoted to return to our spot, I caught the tinkle of Sarah's laugh behind my back, and my jaw clenched again. I was unwilling to imagine the heady rush of joy that the young woman must feel at being swung about in my lover's arms...but I was also incapable of ignoring her pleasure.

  This is a game, remember, my wolf chided, and not for the first time either. But my human side couldn't think of anything entertaining about letting such an enticing pack princess hang upon my lover's arm, not if I was forced to make nice with this ally of Wolfie's brother in exchange. I would have given just about anything to slip out of my current partner's hold so I could down the set and pull Wolfie out of the pack princess's arm.

  I would have given anything...except what I'd actually lose if I let my jealous streak take control of my rational mind. Unfortunately, my place at the head of my father's pack wasn't worth surrendering for the sake of a bout of irrational envy, no matter how hard it might be to keep my mind off Wolfie's hands sliding over the skin of another woman.

  "You didn't answer my question," the Gray alpha continued, jolting me back to my current predicament once again. His words whispered oh-so-softly into my ear, but I was aware that they were almost certainly filtering into the lupine senses of the nearby shifters as well. I shot my partner a smile for the sake of our audience, knowing what was coming since I'd already been propositioned twice in the last hour by werewolves from similarly minor clans. But it would have been nice to at least catch this alpha's name before he asked me to be his mate.

  You're right, my lupine half agreed. I'm sick of games too. Let's go join Wolfie.

  And, although she probably hadn't meant them to, my wolf's words brought me back down to planet earth at last. With the reality of our situation firmly in mind, I actually managed to increase the wattage of the smile I trained on the alpha in front of me, pretending in the process that I hadn't already formed an unbreakable bond with another mate. Because, if I were available, then this Gray alpha wouldn't have made such a terrible spouse. The shifter in question was older than me by perhaps a decade, and his alliance with Justin suggested that the Grays were old-fashioned and unwilling to dismiss the traditional ways. But, despite all of those negatives, this alpha seemed nice enough. His large hand beneath mine was enticingly firm and strong, and none of the alpha's actions toward his underlings displayed anything but good humor.

  So I encouraged my dance partner in the way I hoped a pack princess would if she were actually seeking a mate and wanted to give a particular suitor a green light. "What question did you really want to ask?" I responded coyly. But I was careful to time my sally so that we dissolved back into the flow of the dance before the Gray alpha could reply, saving me from having to make promises I didn't intend to keep.

  And then the motion of the dance drew Justin over to stand facing me, his steely gaze cutting into my own. I wasn't surprised to find that Wolfie's brother was less than pleased to find me flirting with another alpha, since I'd all but proposed to this elder Young a couple of weeks before. But the anger in Justin's face seemed to go beyond annoyance at my feigned fickleness, and I shivered without meaning to. Buck up, my wolf warned succinctly, and I straightened my spine before taking Justin's hand to swap places across the dance floor.

  "Playing games?" Justin asked, the two words all we had time for before I was once again reaching out to a different shifter as each dancer continued to daisy chain his or her way around the set.

  But even though Justin's eyes were quickly turned in another direction and his speech had long since dissipated out of our shared airspace, the alpha's two words continued reverberating through my mind: playing games.

  Surely Justin simply assumed that I was acting like a flirtatious pack princess who hadn't yet chosen a mate, I thought, attempting to sooth my own nerves. At worst, the alpha might guess that I, like Sarah, was leading along two different beaus in an effort to solidify my own position. Either way, Justin should continue to treat me with kid gloves until he was positive that I was going to lend Wilder support to another clan.

  Or so I hoped. But I could still feel the pack leader's cold eyes boring into the base of my skull, and shivers didn't stop running down my spine for the rest of the dance.

  Chapter 15

  "Everything okay?" Fen asked quietly as the jig ended. In all fairness, I should have been the one asking her that question, since the young woman beside me had kept up with the other dancers step for step despite still favoring her broken arm. But before I could reply, I heard the unmistakable sound of Justin's ex-mate in distress, and my attention immediately shifted to a much more pressing problem.

  "Oh!" Sarah exclaimed, the word much softer than its impact on my adrenaline levels would have suggested. My wolf immediately pricked up her ears, always attuned to the nuances of our pack's voices, but I could see that unrelated dancers were also flaring their nostrils and waking up their wolves to take in the surprising aroma wafting in our direction. The scent resembled the forest floor after a hard rain—sodden pine needles and leaf mold. Not at all the aroma that you'd expect to catch at the Princess Ball.

  Not right here, not right now, I begged silently. But I, and every shifter around me, knew that the girl's cry wasn't due to the innocuous surprise of a stepped-upon dress or a stubbed toe. Nope, that scent alone told us everything we needed to know. So, without another thought for the chaos that I'd leave behind in my wake, I abandoned the dance set forming around me, spun on my heel, and made a beeline for the distressed girl.

  By the time Sarah came into view, a thread of liquid was already trickling down to stain the front of her skirt and I wasted half a second to close my eyes and pull myself back together. This was the worst possible moment for the pack princess to go into labor—smack dab in the middle of All-Pack, with her own ex-mate nearby and with every other alpha jockeying for power. Why had I even allowed the girl to attend, let alone failed to put my foot down when she decided to take part in the dancing? Hadn't I realized that something like this was bound to happen?

  You let her come because Sarah gets what Sarah wants, my wolf replied dryly, and I could tell that my lupine half was even less enamored of this troubled and troublesome girl than I was. But, despite our own feelings and the potential loss of stature if we fled the campground en masse during All-Pack, I knew that the only option now was to rush Sarah to my brother-in-law's side as quickly as possible. Because a medical doctor was likely to have tools at his disposal that shifter midwives lacked, and I wasn't about to let our guest perish just because her pregnancy was inconvenient to the rest of us.

  So I opened my eyes and sought out each member of my pack in quick succession. "David and Blaze, bring around Wolfie's and my vehicles. Hawk and Fen, take down our tents and head back to Haven as quickly as possible. Wade..." I didn't even need to finish that last thought, because the oldest yahoo was already standing by the pack princess's side, holding one of her arms as he and Wolfie walked our guest away from the dancing ground and toward the road leading to the outside world.

  I turned to follow, but paused as I felt more than saw Wolfie's brother coming up behind me, his tall form making my own appear minuscule. Like the sudden absence of birdsong when a hunter is sighted creeping through the forest, the dull roar of shifter chatter all around me eased as the dancers strained to catch every word of the upcoming exchange. Not that there was much left for either of us to say, not any more.

  "So," the All-Pack host b
egan, and it was clear from his tone that my precipitate action—and Wolfie's haste to throw his weight behind my pack's efforts—had eliminated all possibility of future subterfuge. The jig (ha!) was up, and I would now be forced to return to soliciting allies the old-fashioned way—through physical intimidation and mental manipulation, just as my father had done before me.

  And even though I'd clearly failed in the task that the Chief had set for me, I couldn't help feeling relieved that the game my cunning father had initiated was going to end at last. Yes, Justin's pack would likely be at the Wilders' throats in short order, but at least my true mate would be standing by my side during the battle that was to come. I would be able to drop the pack-princess guise that had fit so badly, and, together, Wolfie and I would handle whatever malice Justin threw our way

  But as I peered up into a face that could have been a reflection of my mate's, I couldn't help wondering if Justin really was as devilish as I'd made him out to be. Wolfie's experiences with his sibling dated from over a decade before, when both shifters were mere teenagers, so surely the elder brother would have changed in the interim just as Wolfie had grown and matured. I couldn't help musing that, if the shoe had been on the other foot, Wolfie would have found my charade hilarious. And he definitely would have stepped up to the plate and taken responsibility for his unborn child and for his endangered ex-mate.

  With the same Young blood running through both brothers' veins, was it really possible for Justin to act so differently? I allowed myself to imagine the pack leader in front of me letting slip his scary alpha demeanor and expressing concern for his ex-mate and unborn child, asking for permission to join us in our mad dash to Dale's house and then holding Sarah's hand as she gave birth.

  Ha! Fat chance of that, my wolf said silently. And, as I peered into the eyes that looked so much like my mate's, but twenty times colder, I was forced to agree. Justin wasn't hoping that I'd fill him in on the state of Sarah's health. Instead, this particular pack leader was angry that he'd lost face courting an unavailable pack princess, and he was annoyed that both my and Wolfie's packs were falling all over ourselves to protect his ex-mate. Finally, as the All-Pack host clenched his jaw and fists, it became blindingly clear that the best I could hope for was to be allowed to leave Young property alive—everything else was a pipe dream.

  So, dropping all pretense, I didn't offer Justin another word. Instead, I just turned on my heel and ran as fast as I could after my true mate.

  About damn time, my wolf replied, and I had to agree. Playacting had done none of us any good, so it was time to stand up for what we believed in.

  And, if we had to, it was also time to fight for everything we held dear.

  ***

  This time around, there was no argument over who got to ride with whom, not with Wolfie back at the helm. Instead, Wade was tearing out of the Young's driveway with his pack leader in the passenger seat and with myself and Sarah a jumble of legs in the back before Blaze and David had time to consider protesting. I even thought I caught a glimpse of the two former antagonists leaping into the same vehicle in their haste to follow...or that might be what I'd seen out of the corner of one eye before a strong male hand grabbed the nape of my neck and turned my head around to face forward once again.

  Without a word, lips that could only be my mate's pressed into mine so hungrily that I completely forgot about the fact that Sarah was about to give birth to a bloodling beside me. I completely forgot that I'd ever doubted Wolfie's interest or watched with envy as he danced in another woman's arms. All I knew was that I was finally right where I belonged, tasting my mate's wolf as his strong hands pulled me forward until the head-rest jabbed into my cheek and my neck caught against the seat in front of me.

  And then, with a sudden bounce of the car, our lip lock fell apart. "Sorry about that," Wade said, shooting his pack leader one of those guy expressions that meant You lucky dog, or something similar that I was glad not to be privy to. But, despite the subtext, it was a relief to catch an actual smile on the oldest yahoo's face. Wade had taken his responsibilities toward me very seriously over the last few weeks, and the young shifter had seemed to grow grimmer and grimmer with each passing day ever since he'd left his true alpha's side. Now that Wolfie was back in charge, I could almost feel the tension easing out of the younger shifter's form, and my own muscles began to relax in sympathy.

  But our relief turned out to be short-lived because the very pregnant teenager beside me immediately started gasping in pain and terror. All eyes turned to our distressed pack princess, and only Wolfie's hand on his underling's arm kept Wade from swerving off the road. What our driver couldn't discern, but what Wolfie's and my more dominant wolves could easily see, was that the tiny bloodling within Sarah's womb was moving frantically now, the pup's small but sharp teeth and claws scrabbled at the girl's insides. Wincing in sympathy, I took Sarah's hand in mine, silently bemoaning my total lack of midwife skills even as I realized that my gesture was worse than useless.

  Luckily, Wolfie had even that problem under control. "Shift," he commanded, the word brooking no opposition, and Wade and I both had to concentrate fully in order to resist the seductive lure that spilled over into our own air space. This time, the car did swerve for a second before Wade was once again able to take control of the wheel, but I barely noticed our almost-accident. Instead, my eyes were trained on the passenger beside me, a spot that used to be filled by Sarah's girlish form but that was now taken up by a slender white wolf whose belly seemed much less distended than it had been in human form.

  "You could've at least given the poor thing time to take off her clothes," I chastened as I attempted to pry a dress and underwear off an improperly shaped lupine. I didn't put any heat into my words, though, because Sarah did seem more comfortable four-legged, and Wolfie just grinned at my half-hearted rebuke, his own canine partner fully present behind the bloodling's eyes. I'd forgotten how the constant proximity of my mate's wolf made the trials and tribulations of daily life seem that much simpler, his linear lupine mind smoothing out the nervous wiggles of my own human brain waves.

  I'd forgotten...but now that the calming influence was back, I basked in it.

  Until, that is, my mate pressed a scary-looking hypodermic needle into my palm. "This needs to go into Sarah's muscle," Wolfie ordered, ignoring the fact that his instructions were nearly as alarming as the idea of helping a pregnant wolf give birth in the back seat of a speeding car. "Jab it all the way into her thigh as if you want it to come out the other side," he continued levelly.

  "What's in the needle?" I asked, nearly dropping the hypodermic, and Sarah's nose turned in my direction at last. Her child must have been lulled by the mother's change of form enough to pause its biting and clawing, because the pack princess's eyes were softer now and less filled with pain. In fact, if I could read wolf expressions—and I usually could—I thought Sarah might be telling me to stop asking questions and to start following orders. She, at least, seemed to trust my mate implicitly.

  So, without waiting for Wolfie's reply, I gathered up my courage and did as he ordered. I'd never used a hypodermic before, and I was surprised by how the needle caught on Sarah's tough hide, not wanting to go all the way in. But I just gritted my teeth and pushed harder, until the pointed tip sank in deep. Sarah whimpered slightly, but it was my hand that shook from our sudden shared pain—a sure sign that I'd admitted this girl into my pack, despite all reservations to the contrary.

  "Now, pull back on the plunger just a little to make sure you haven't hit a vein," Wolfie said calmly, and I struggled to obey without removing the needle from Sarah's thigh. She lay silent and uncomplaining now, even though I could feel the way the sliver of metal ached within her muscle, and I had to admit that Sarah was made of sterner stuff than her pack-princess exterior had initially suggested.

  "Good," Wolfie continued, praising us both equally. "Now inject every bit of it right there."

  As I followed my mate's instruc
tions and then eased the needle out of the wolf's thigh, the pack leader's attention turned from me to Sarah at last. The bloodling alpha placed one gentle hand on our guest's lupine nose, a gesture that might have been meant to further soothe the beast...or to prevent her from jerking around and biting my hand. I didn't inquire further, content in the knowledge that my mate understood that I—and Sarah—appreciated either alternative.

  "That's a tranquilizer," Wolfie explained to all and sundry as I slipped the plastic cap back onto the needle. "Dr. Baker prescribed it to keep you and your baby calm until we get to the clinic," he added, directing his words to the patient now. "Not that there's any reason to worry. I'm sure you couldn't tell, but I'm a bloodling," he added over the sound of Wade's sudden burst of laughter, "and I came out okay. Your baby will too."

  I hoped that Sarah didn't notice Wolfie's omission—that my mate had made no mention of his own mother...and for good reason since the woman had died as soon as her youngest son entered the world. But, between the pangs of pregnancy and the effects of the drug, Sarah probably wasn't thinking too clearly at the moment, and she made no response to Wolfie's reassurance. Instead, the pregnant wolf simply let her chin drop down onto my knee, her eyes sliding shut as the mother-to-be drifted into one last pocket of rest before her real ordeal began.

  "I'll just give Dale a call to let him know we're coming," Wolfie finished quietly, meeting my gaze briefly before pulling out a cell phone and punching in my brother-in-law's number. I'd almost forgotten that such time savers existed, and the warm car suddenly seemed to cocoon me in an entirely different world than the one I'd inhabited for the last few weeks. Technological aids, my mate's reassuring voice filling the air, even Sarah's quiet breathing by my side—all acted to calm my racing pulse and to fill me with peace.

  I just hoped that Wolfie and I had been able to impart some small measure of that same peace to the teenage werewolf lying beside me, whose feet looked too large for her legs and whose ears twitched as she dreamed. Without her vivacious personality to color my vision, I couldn't help thinking that Sarah was far too young to be facing such life-and-death challenges. Too young to give birth and too young to be a mother.

 

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