They all looked over at the older woman who hadn’t uttered a single word until now. “Yeah, Bohdan Kolisnychenko doesn’t fight anymore, but he became a total Baltimore celebrity after taking over the IWF,” Nago answered, staring at her worriedly as they walked across the lawn of The Wolf House. “You okay, Grandma? You seem really out of it.”
Wilma didn’t answer, but her face had taken on an expression between confusion and what looked like…Myrna frowned. But yes, Wilma was displaying signs of true sadness, if everything she learned in her body language class had been right.
“What saddens you, Grandma Wilma?” she asked as they walked in through the front doors after Nago and Halle underwent a thumb and eye scan from one of the entry bots.
But once again, Wilma didn’t answer and now did Nago really look worried. “It was loud in there. And kind of hot. Maybe we should call a doctor--”
“I’m fine,” Wilma said, cutting him off as Nago closed the front door behind them.
“But—”
“Where the hell have you all been?” a voice demanded as soon as they walked through the door.
Myrna froze. Rafes, was standing in the middle of the foyer in the same tuxedo he’d been wearing last night.
And he looked furious.
19
Myrna
“Rafesson, how fare thee?” Myrna asked carefully.
She was surprised not only to see him standing there, after he’d rushed off last night to go help the perfect Layla, but also at the state he was in. Though his voice held no slur, she smelled a smoother version of the fermented grains that had permeated the stadium. Alcohol, as it was called in this time. And his alcohol smell was much thicker than Nago’s, who’d only had one beer.
Her extremely serious fated mate was mayhap drunk, she realized with a start. Mayhap drunk and angry.
“Well, I got home a few minutes ago to find both you and my grandma gone with her comm rings left behind in the house,” Rafesson answered. “So that’s how I am. Just great. Wasn’t worried at all.”
After a confused beat, Myrna realized this must be a version of the sarcasm her culture teacher had spent over an hour explaining to her baffled student during the humor section of their coursework. “So you are upset that we were not here when you arrived,” she translated. “For this am I deeply sorry.”
“Yeah, sorry, bro,” Nago said with a chin-up. “Blame it all on me, though. I didn’t think you’d be back today after I heard you were in the Midwest dealing with that Knud Layla mess. Surprised you were able to keep it out of the human news. Good job. By the way how did you—”
“Grandma Wilma, do you need anything from the robots before you retire to your room?” Rafesson asked, directing his stern gaze to the woman standing on the other side of Halle and Nago.
“No, I’m tired. I’m going to take a nap,” Wilma said. Her usual direct answer, but Myrna couldn’t help but notice her voice sounded rather frail.
But apparently, Rafesson had no such concern. “Have a nice nap, Grandma,” he said as she shuffled off to her room after receiving hugs from Nago and Halle.
Then he turned back to the recently mated couple to say, “Halle, it was lovely to see you. Please make sure my team receives your registry links. They’ll send a gift. And Nago, I’ll see you at the next black box installation.”
Nago snorted and threw a salute that didn’t look nearly as respectful as Harold the cook’s the night before. “Sir, yes, sir. See you then.”
Then did Halle and Nago hug Myrna as they had Wilma. “Pro-tip,” Nago whispered in her ear when he wrapped his bulky arms around her. “Don’t tell him where you went tonight? Trust me, he will not find that story about you jumping in the ring as funny as I do.”
However, Nago needn’t have worried. When the door closed behind him and his mate, Rafesson put no further questions to her. He simply took her by the hand and started leading her upstairs. “C’mon, let’s go.”
Last night him taking her by the hand had thrilled her.
But tonight…
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, pulling back as soon as they stepped upon the first-floor landing.
He made a disbelieving sound. “Where do you think I’m taking you? Back to your room to finish where we left off.”
Myrna’s mind reeled at his answer, a bog of confusion and anger agitating her stomach. “You are deep in your cups, Rafesson,” she said. “I would like to know why.”
An annoyed beat. Then Rafesson answered, “It’s a long story.”
“I have much experience with long stories. Oft do we tell them around the night fire,” she replied. “I would like to hear yours.”
Rafesson wiped a hand over his face, as if her demand for an explanation was the most difficult he’d ever received during all his time as fenrir of his vast lands. “Look, Myrna. When I say, long, I mean complicated. Believe me, I don’t like that I’m coming to you this way. But trust me, it’s the only way for us to do this. And I promise you won’t have to deal with my whiskey dick. Believe me, I’m raring to go.”
He started to tug at her, but still she held back. “Rafesson, I wish to please you, but—”
“Great, then let’s do this,” he said, cutting her off with a kiss. Another one of those head spinning, world reversing kisses, that so oft made her forget everything, including her own name.
But not tonight…
She drew back, her eyes searching his face. “And what of Layla?”
He squinted down at her and shook his head. “What of her?”
Myrna lifted her chin. “You seemed so very concerned with going to her aid earlier.”
Rafes made a disgusted sound. “Well, that was earlier, before I found out that she had actually chosen my brother over going home with her parents. I have no idea how a guy like Knud managed to brainwash a woman like that, but it doesn’t matter now, right? I’m back. And sick of talking. All I do is talk. All I’ve been doing for the last four hacking years is talk. Right now, I want to take a leaf from my brother’s book and fuck first, chat later. Okay? So let’s just go to your room and finish what we started.”
Myrna jerked away from him, feeling as if she’d been stabbed in the heart. She’d liked him last night, so very much. But now…. It hurt. It hurt to look at him now, and she had to get away.
“Why the hell are you pulling away?” he demanded she tried to step around him to her bedroom door. He grabbed her by the shoulders, his breath reeking of alcohol. “This is what you want, right? What you wanted from me since the day you showed up here and disrupted my whole life! I’m trying to give you what you want!”
“This is not what I want!” Myrna shoved him. Once. Twice. Then with all her wolf strength, but it was like shoving at one of the oversized house robots downstairs, and he wouldn’t let go of her shoulders.
President Robot.
“Myrna…” he said, the word a slur upon his lips. “It has to be this way. I can’t be with you like that if I’m not drunk—like, really drunk. It’s the only way I can—”
This time she did not just shove him, but also slapped and scratched him with the fury of a bear, using everything in her arsenal until he finally unhanded her, taking a staggering step back.
“Myrna, listen, just listen to me,” he said. “Let me…”
She darted into her room and palmed the door closed on the rest of his explanation for why he could only lay with her if he was very, very drunk.
Rafesson lingered outside the door, calling her name. But Myrna could barely hear him for the noisy sea her mind had become as she revisited all of her previous assumptions about her fated mate.
Of course Rafesson did not truly desire her. Of course, he was another Jelling Prince. Of course he wished for himself not a fated mate, but a glamorous hologram to act exactly as instructed.
Myrna wanted to scream. And even more than that she wanted to weep.
But then her father’s voice rose above the noisy sea, “Stop
, Myrna...Always keep your female mind in battle.”
And so that was what she did.
Instead of weeping, she waited and planned. Until footsteps sounded and Rafesson finally retreated from her door.
Then, making a decision, she palmed open her door and headed down the stairs.
20
Rafes
Rafes woke up with a jerk, not to the sound of his high-frequency alarm, but with a pounding headache and about a thousand alerts from his bioware about everything from several missed calls and meetings to severely low hydration levels.
But there was no need to force shift out of his wolf, because he was still in human form. And apparently, very hungover.
“Suggested Changes to evening routine, drink 12 ounces of water and eat dinner before receiving your WolfNet Flash Briefing. Top in Trending Stories…Triplet Brother of President Announces Engagement to…”
“Pause flash briefing,” Rafes commanded, sitting up painfully in his bed.
Jesus Christ, why the hell had he drunk so much? Usually, he didn’t do that unless he was intentionally trying to subdue his wolf—
He froze. And, okay, apparently, he hadn’t drunk enough because that afternoon’s encounter with Myrna hit him like a hacking truck.
Shit…now he remembered the decision to get drunk on Marine Drone 1. He’d been so determined to be with her, but he knew his wolf wouldn’t let him have her in his current mental state. It had fought him like a thing possessed the night of the gala when he’d attempted to have sex with Myrna, with his wolf on full lockdown. That method had worked before with other women. But his wolf hadn’t wanted those other women. Rafes had barely been able to contain the beast, after a night gone perfectly. He knew he didn’t stand a chance after half a day of head-exploding Knud drama.
He remembered bits and pieces of what happened after that. Myrna had come through the door looking happy and delighted, so beautiful and fresh-faced, he’d known he’d made the right decision. But things had fallen apart soon after. There’d been some kind of argument. He’d yelled, but he hadn’t struggled to control his wolf around her. Yelled about what? He couldn’t quite remember. But instead of inviting him in with those wide brown eyes of hers, she’d shoved him away, slapped him and closed the door in his face.
Fuck…his plan had truly and spectacularly backfired. And now here he was, totally wrung out, still dressed in the tuxedo from two nights ago.
“Would you lie back down while your bio-system administers the hangover brain boost and hydration package?”
Yes, yes, he most definitely would. But first…
After showering, getting dressed in a new suit, and gelling his curly hair back into a straightened hood, he went downstairs, preparing an apology, beneath the headache.
However, no answer came when he knocked on Myrna’s door.
He checked the time in his biosystem. It was much later in the day now. She might be downstairs at dinner with Wilma.
But when he went downstairs, he found Wilma there alone. Staring off into space.
“Grandma?” he asked with a frown.
She jumped in her chair as if his appearance had shocked her.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” she snapped, sounding like her usual grumpy self.
Good. The last thing he needed on this dumpster fire of a day was another she-wolf to worry about. Speaking of which… “Do you know where Myrna is?”
“That Viking girl? No. I ain’t seen her since earlier today when she asked to use my room system.”
Rafes’s stomach dropped then with a bad feeling. He’d put a child lock on Myrna’s room system, essentially shutting her out of WolfNet, along with MA-only entertainment, and anything else that might confuse or upset her. But apparently, she’d gone to Wilma’s room last night seeking something she couldn’t get in her own room.
He raced back up the stairs to Myrna’s chamber. And this time he pounded on the door, instead of knocking politely.
And when she didn’t answer, he harshly commanded the door, “Open. Open now, by presidential command code….”
He trailed off, because fuck, there was a whole protocol to use his override command code, just in case he actually ever did get kidnapped in his own home. He’d have to go find Craig and Arik if he wanted in.
But then the smart door said, “There is currently no lock engaged on the door in question. Opening…”
The door noiselessly slid open. Yet, Rafes found himself even more horrified when he saw the room.
Empty. Myrna’s bedroom was empty. And though he’d vowed to outfit Myrna with a pair of comm rings last night when he'd found her gone, it was too late for that now. She wasn’t in her room. Or anywhere on the grounds, according to the house. Which meant that for the second time in less than twelve hours he had somehow managed to lose his mate.
21
Knud
What had he done? Knud watched his fiancée’s parents make plans with a media team. They’d shown up at his humble apartment a few hours before he and Layla had gotten back from the grocery store. And despite having room’s in their Texas compound bigger than his entire apartment, her parents and their people had made themselves right at home as if they owned the place.
Layla was even taking drink orders, like everyone who’d shown up at his tiny apartment out of the blue were actually invited guests. Yep, it was official, Knud thought observing all the people in his apartment. His formerly deeply private life had just become a circus.
“Is it always like this?” Knud asked when Layla returned to where he was standing in their kitchen with a phone screen filled with coffee orders.
“Yes, always,” she answered with an apologetic smile. Then she tilted her head and asked, “Do you still want to be with me? Because if not, we should let the PR team know while they’re here.”
Sweet Layla. She put on a brave face but Knud could smell her fear.
“Do I want to be with someone who’s going to turn my loner life into a circus?” he asked, tilting his head to mirror hers. A wide smile broke out across his face. “Hell yeah.”
Then he smoothed back his beautiful fiancée’s flawless curls and kissed her previously hidden mess. Worth it, he thought as his lips moved over hers. She was worth everything he’d gone through to get her back, and if this circus meant he got to spend the rest of his life with her, then he didn’t regret a thing—
A knock on the door cut their tender moment short.
“Uncatalogued visitor!” one of the guards called out. They’d only shown up less than an hour ago but had obviously synced with the security bots outside the apartment door. “No weapons.”
Knud frowned. No weapons meant the unexpected visitor most likely wasn’t a threat. However, uncatalogued also meant that whoever it was, wasn’t officially in any international database.
Another wolf, Knud guessed. And as it turned out, he was right.
However, his mouth dropped when the guards escorted his unexpected visitor into the studio apartment. “Myrna,” he said, blinking, because the girl he and his brothers used to refer to as Hot Valkyrie Babysitter was no longer a teenager, but a grown woman… wearing leggings and a swing top.
She was still hot, though, Knud noted, but now her eyes crackled with an underlying fierceness he didn’t remember from before.
“It is good to see you, Knud, second son of Rafe,” she said with a short head bow. She wore modern clothes, but her Viking era accent remained unchanged. Much like her brothers who’d arrived over two decades ago, but still talked like they were looking to get cast in a Viking Age historical drama.
“Uh, you, too, Myrna, daughter of our Fenrir,” he answered, before asking. “What are you doing here?”
“So you know this uncatalogued woman?” a guard asked, looking for a signal to stand down. “Yes, she’s my brother’s…”
He trailed off, not sure how to describe her with so many humans in the room.
“I am
your brother’s nothing,” Myrna answered, her voice thickening with anger. “That is why I have come to you. I wish no longer to be his mate.”
She paused, giving Knud the feeling this was the first time, she’d said these words out loud. But then she raised her chin with resolved determination. “And I need your help to get away from him.”
Whoa, Knud thought, shocked as hell by her announcement.
And then his bioware exploded with a piercing emergency siren followed by, “Hail from President Nightwolf! Hail from President Nightwolf!”
“And to think,” a wide-eyed Layla said, coming to stand beside him. “I believed it would be my family bringing most of the drama to this relationship.”
22
Damianos
“Here you are, sir. Will there be anything else?”
Damianos shook his head, receiving his evening tsipouro from Colby at his desk, with his usual lack of uttered gratitude (how tiresome and unnecessary that human custom).
“I’ll be in the garden if you need me, taking advantage of the summer hours before they go away.” Colby said before turning to leave.
Damianos did not pretend to care about Colby’s love of gardening—all the Colbys did this in their later years with the original one planting the damn thing in the first place. Nor did Damianos bother to look up from the intel report on his tablet as the old servant left. It was much more juicier than Colby’s planned garden activity in any case. And featured a lot more worms.
According to the guard he’d god spoken to keep him abreast of Rafes Nightwolf’s coming and goings, the president was “freaking out” because the Viking girl had disappeared. It was possible she’d even left him.
It would seem things were unraveling around the seams of the perfect picture Nightwolf had somehow managed to paint last night with his gala. Good, Damianos thought, as he read over the report. Only to be interrupted by a fit of coughing, which brought his head up from his tablet.
The Brothers Nightwolf Complete Trilogy: A Sci-Fi Shifter Paranormal Romance Box Set Page 57
