by Lola Taylor
Calming himself, he released the couch and ran his hands through his hair. It still felt weird actually having hair to get in his eyes, but Alara seemed to like it. “Fuck.”
“You’ve said that already,” Gage teased lightly.
“I don’t know what else to say.” Nik let his arms flop back to his sides before he fell back on the couch like a rock. He stared into empty space. Oh yeah. The realization that Elijah was alive had fried his brain, all right.
Gage slowly sat, eyeing Nik warily.
Shit. “What now?” Nik asked, noting the edge in his voice.
“There’s more, about the pack,” Gage said carefully, leaning forward. “Brace yourself.”
Two words Nik never liked to hear. “What is it?”
Two minutes later, he was taking the whiskey straight from the bottle.
Friends were weird.
Well, not that her friends were weird, but rather, the fact that she had any at all floored Alara.
She listened with rapt interest as Danica chattered (read: “bitched”) about all the snobs at the castle. Alara laughed, feeling genuinely relaxed around Danica as the two women walked toward the open field behind the manor, where a banquet was to be held in the High King and Queen’s honor.
“I’m glad to see some things never change,” Alara said wryly.
“Ugh. Oh my gosh.” Danica rolled her eyes, and Alara bit back a smile. It was such an un-Queen-like thing to do. “They’re just jerks, you know? I just want to say, ‘Okay, I know I’m not born and bred were royalty, and you think you’re better than me, but really you’re not, because I can totally have you beheaded… or something.’”
Alara laughed. “I’m sure you’ll strike terror into the hearts of all your enemies, Your Highness.”
“Stop calling me that.” Danica swatted Alara’s arm. “It’s weird enough hearing it around the castle all day. It’s totally unacceptable coming from you, Miss Perfect.”
Alara raised a brow. “I’m perfect?”
“Uh-huh.” Danica nodded. “Totally, irritatingly perfect. We need to work on your slovenliness so I don’t feel like such a disaster waiting to happen.”
Alara thought of all the blood she wished to spill in her family’s name, of the darkness stirring inside of her like a caged beast. A knot formed in her chest, and she ducked her head. “I’m not a saint. Believe me.”
Danica snorted. “Yeah, right. If you’re not a saint, then what the hell does that make me?”
On their way to the door, they passed by the long, weapon-adorned wall that lay parallel to one of the meeting rooms.
Alara stared at it often. She couldn’t help it; something about the hint of violence stole her attention, especially since she’d been training. She never used to pay weapons any mind, maybe even feared them, but now she was enraptured.
A machete caught her eye. Alara stared at the blade hanging on the wall. It was one of many used to decorate Crescent Manor, and she didn’t know exactly why this one had drawn her gaze. Perhaps it was the wicked curve of the blade or the row of sharp teeth waiting to slice through warm flesh.
Oh, what she’d give to watch it saw through Gerard’s neck…
“Alara?”
She blinked.
Danica looked at her expectantly, waiting a few steps ahead. “Something wrong?”
Alara shook her head and pasted on a smile. “No, I’m fine. Thanks.” She started walking again, picking up the easy conversation where they’d left off, though Danica still cast her an odd, curious look every now and then.
The moon was out tonight. The nearly full, brilliant-white orb shone bright against a backdrop of stars. Their breaths puffed in the air as Danica and Alara walked over toward the large campfire that had been set ablaze about fifty feet from the house.
A circular stone courtyard surrounded the fire pit. People milled about, laughing, talking, and drinking. A huge buffet had been set up on a long table off to the side, right next to a mountain of kegs. Werewolves loved the shit out of some beer. The Moonstruck Pack had spared no expense in making the High Royalty feel welcome.
Despite the laughter, Alara felt a thread of tension riding the air.
Not all the wolves had forgiven Gage for what had happened at the cabin in the woods. Many of those who’d been slain by the wraiths were longtime friends. That kind of grief took a long time to go away, if ever. The resentment and bitterness it brought on would take even longer to fade. The thirst for revenge, the itch to make someone pay, was like a stain that wouldn’t fade.
Alara should know. Her entire soul was bathed in her desire for revenge.
Shoving her anger and pain inside, she took her place beside her mate and forced a smile as formalities were quickly dispensed with.
Yeah, the applause as the High King and Queen were officially announced was definitely lackluster.
The discontentment in the pack was a growing problem that had been on their radar right from the start. If it was left unchecked, they may very well have a mutiny on their hands. The murderous gleam she caught in the pack’s eyes as they watched Gage, and sometimes Nik, definitely made her uneasy. She wondered how many stares she’d received.
If only she had eyes in the back of her head.
Her mind wandered to Nik, as it often did when she was seeking reassurance, whether subconsciously or otherwise. Their mate-bond felt strained. One look at him, and she knew why. Her mate seemed… tense. She watched his gait, studied the tilt of his shoulders for a few seconds. Yeah, something was definitely wrong. She wondered how the meeting with Gage had gone and if that was the source of the tension.
She was going to ask him about it when he turned to her. The instant his eyes laid on her, the tension in their bond, and in his posture, eased. Gage swept Danica away to greet the pack members they’d left behind, allowing Nik to give her his full attention now that the festivities were officially underway.
Nik came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her cheek. “How’s my favorite mate doing this evening?”
Alara raised a brow and smiled. “I’d better be your only mate.”
Nik grabbed her chin, and she craned her neck to face him. “You know you’re the only woman for me,” he said, kissing her.
His tongue darted into her mouth, and she eagerly met it with a moan. The heat that had remained pooled between her legs from their last intimate moment surged upward. Discreetly, beneath the folds of her jacket, she palmed his growing erection.
He growled low in his throat. “Careful, love,” he murmured in her ear. “You’re tempting me to strip you down and take you right here.”
“We could always slip away for a bit?” she whispered back. Her voice lifted upward on the end in a conspiratorial question.
Nik stared at her with pure hunger in his eyes. For any wolf, mated or not, a full moon promised that your sex drive would be insatiable.
Without another word, he silently took her hand and led her away from the crowd and into the woods.
Her heart raced faster, and her desire coated her sex as they walked. She couldn’t wait to feel him inside of her. Pumping, driving himself to the brink of exhaustion…
The fire was still visible between the veil of trees. If anything happened, they could respond quickly. Sure, they were hosting, and it was probably rude to step out, but hell if she could wait a second longer to be with her mate. Besides, she had a feeling that as worked up as they both were, this wouldn’t take long.
Regrettably.
Nik came to an abrupt halt. Alara barely had time to register what was happening as he caught her before she could slam into him. Like a professional dancer, he spun her around and gently laid her back against a tree as his mouth came down hard over hers.
Her brain switched off as carnal need took over. Answering his tongue with a fiery kiss of her own, she eagerly began undoing his pants. His hand slid up to cup her breast through the soft material of the shift dress. Despite the padd
ing of her bra, he easily found her pert nipple, teasing it with the tips of his fingers.
She pressed her throbbing breasts against him. The feel of the bark scraping against the fabric of her dress only excited her more. He grabbed her ass, and she hoisted herself up, wrapping her legs around his waist.
He hiked up her dress, exposing her bare sex. His deep chuckle rolled through her as he stroked her bare skin. “No panties?” he murmured, kissing her neck and then punctuating the gesture with a light nip. “I am rubbing off on you.”
“Not yet, but I’m hoping to change that in a moment.” She grabbed his full erection and aimed the tip upward.
He bucked, driving himself into her. She threw back her head with a gasp as he filled her up and began pumping with urgency. The pleasure was exquisite.
He sucked on a nipple; he’d pried her dress, and her now slightly torn bra, halfway up her body until it had nearly come off.
“Yes,” she breathed as her orgasm bubbled upward. “Yes, yes…”
She came with a barely muffled scream, having had enough mind to clamp her mouth shut and swallow the joy of coming undone. Every tendon tingled, every muscle went gooey at the intensity of the sensations rolling through her right now. The pleasure was made even more intense because it briefly shattered all the pain she’d been feeling, driving away the darkness and filling it with Nik’s physical manifestation of love.
Nik growled deep in his throat, clinging to her and bucking hard. His hot seed poured into her, and she relished the feeling of being one with him.
Her mate. Her beautiful, sexy, perfect mate.
How did she get so lucky?
Both breathing hard, they rested their foreheads against one another’s. “How do you feel?” he murmured.
“Content,” she said breathlessly. She leaned forward and kissed him gently on the lips. Their skin was covered in a light sheen of sweat. A lump formed in her throat. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Nik frowned. “For what?”
“For not appreciating what’s right in front of me,” she said carefully. “For living in the past.”
“Sweetheart,” he said, hugging her close. “I’ve lived in the past most of my life. It’s all right. I know what it’s like to be eaten alive by that kind of grief and bitterness. It will pass. I promise you, I’ll help you through it every step of the way.” He smiled as he cupped her face in his hands. “Don’t ever apologize to me for feeling. You might be a wolf, but you’re still human.”
Tears pricked her eyes, and she smiled. “Nik—”
Both their heads snapped around as something crashed through the woods toward them. It didn’t sound heavy enough to be an animal, but it also didn’t give off a human or supernatural signature.
Nik instantly set her down and shielded her. He growled, his eyes glowing gold as she scrambled to get dressed.
The sounds were growing closer, and she peered around his shoulder. Neither of them spoke. Alara knew he was listening with as much intent with his wolf hearing as she.
The people at the party must have heard the intruder too, because several footsteps were thundering toward them.
A moment later, a silhouette appeared between a pair of trees. It was human, at least, or humanoid, but that could mean a lot of things in their world. A lot of creatures held human shapes, but that made them no less dangerous.
“Stop right there!” Nik demanded with a snarl. His eyes blazed gold, and his teeth were sharpened to fangs. He looked terrifying.
The creature gasped and stopped, holding up two arms. Flashlight beams shone through the darkness as the rest of their party crashed through the trees to join them.
“What happened?” asked Gage, surrounded by his guards.
Alara blushed. “Um—”
“We went off to find some privacy, and someone came charging toward us,” Nik said, having no qualms about telling his brother exactly what they had been doing. Alara, by far, had to be the most modest werewolf in existence.
Gage’s stern face was all business. He nodded to his men, and the flashlight beams shone upward.
They landed on the face of a young woman, her hair coated in mud and twigs. She was covered in nothing more than a shabby blanket, her skin clinging so closely to her pronounced bones that it very well could have been painted on.
“Help me,” she croaked, trembling. Tears ran down her face. The only way Alara could tell she had been crying was from the clean lines running down her cheeks, which otherwise were coated in mud.
Alara studied her for a few seconds as she reached out with her supernatural senses, all while a nagging voice in the back of her head screeched that something wasn’t right. It took her a moment to put her paw on it. When she did, she barely contained her gasp.
The girl’s signature… it was just like the one she’d sensed outside the gym earlier, when she thought someone had been watching her.
What. The. Fuck?
Nik stared at the girl. She was pretty—and filthy as hell. She looked as if she’d been living in the forest for a while. Her odor definitely suggested “wild child.”
She trembled once more as fresh tears ran rivers through the grime caked on her face. “Please, help me,” she whispered again in broken syllables. Her voice was scratchy, as though she hadn’t had water in days.
Or maybe from screaming.
And if she’d been screaming, why? Had someone done something to her? Was someone after her? If they were after her, then he needed to know why before he put his pack at risk. But he also couldn’t just leave her here to fend for herself, not when she was clearly weakened.
Being a pack master seriously sucked sometimes.
Thanks, Gage.
Nik’s jaw was set in a stern line as he tried to figure out what the hell to do.
She looked innocent enough, but so did a lot of other shit that could rip your throat out and not bat a lash.
He lifted his chin and sniffed. For a split second, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him. Her paranormal signature danced and shifted, as if it couldn’t quite decide what it was, before firmly snapping into that of a werewolf.
He put all his focus into studying her signature again. Yeah, she was definitely a werewolf.
Weird. Must be my imagination. That was, until his mate got inside his head, literally.
Did you feel her signature? Alara asked through their telepathic mate-bond.
Yeah, he said gravely, not looking at her. Natural “human” instinct was to look at the person you were talking to, but in certain situations it was best not to give away the fact that you were having a telepathic chat. Ever felt anything like that before?
No, she said, starting to shake her head but stopping herself. She shifted her weight, and Nik could tell she was hiding something. He did look at her then and narrowed his eyes.
What? he asked gently.
She bit her lip. This morning, at the gym, I felt a presence like hers. It was odd, like it was every paranormal creature and nothing at all at the same time.
Fuck.
There were a few dozen creatures that could cause that phenomenon, all of them bad news. He’d worry about figuring out what the hell the girl really was later. Right now, he was more interested in why the fuck she’d been snooping around his manor and, more specifically, his mate.
He made up his mind right then. “Take her prisoner,” he said in a deep voice booming with authority.
The girl’s eyes widened as two members of his pack stepped forward to seize her. “But I haven’t done anything wrong!” she cried, her feeble voice cracking on the last word.
Nik paid the girl no sympathy as he stared back at her with an iron will in his eyes. “We shall see.” He nodded his head, and his men gently led her from the forest and back into the manor. Gage and Danica were right there with them as they hauled the girl into the sparsely used holding cells below the ground level.
The dungeons had been very popular during Malachite’s
reign. Nik had spent time in them himself, bleeding from multiple wounds inflicted by Malachite as punishment for his insubordination.
Rest in peace, you son of a bitch… or not. Burn in hell was probably more appropriate.
The dull pang of guilt made that vicious thought pause.
When Gage told him about what the Moonstruck Pack had done to Malachite’s family, Nik hadn’t believed a word of it. Mostly, he knew, it was because he hadn’t wanted to. Ignorance really was bliss.
As it was, the pack was ready to rip him and his brother a new one thanks to the wraith debacle. Tracking down the perpetrators of the murder of Malachite’s family would take time and resources. The resources part they were fine on. If anything, the Moonstruck Pack had always handled their finances well, even in Malachite’s days. He’d been more keen on bloodshed and gore than depleting the pack’s money reserves. Plus, Gage was High King, which kind of made him one of the richest paranormals in the Underworld.
So, yeah, resources—check.
But the time-suck part of conducting an investigation was a problem. Even if he outsourced it, Nik knew he would want to follow up on every lead himself. Despite his irritation with all the stress that came with the title of Alpha, he would die before he let anything hurt his wolves. Slaughtering humans was a grave offense, usually taken up by the state, and possibly national, paranormal justice courts. The pack’s views of him were lukewarm, at best, as it was. If he tried punishing them or even hinted at retribution for what they’d done, then life as he knew it might literally plunge straight into hell. But at the same time, he couldn’t in good conscience let such a crime go unpunished, if some of the original murderers still lurked in his pack. Besides, in addition to letting that kind of filth stay in his pack, how long would it be before they came after him? After Alara, or his pups, God willing he have any?
The anxiety and indecision about what to do about that clusterfuck of a problem was something he didn’t even begin to know how to tackle.
Did he mention he hated being an Alpha? If any other wolf had asked him besides Gage, he would have responded with a prompt and proud, “Hell no.” Ah, shit. Who was he kidding? Even if it hadn’t been Gage who’d asked him, he would have taken over leadership of the Moonstruck Pack anyway. They needed his help. He knew, despite a few soured souls, that the majority of them were honest and good people. They’d been through so much together, courtesy of Malachite. And once you’d endured hell on earth with people, you tended to be bonded for life.
