So my wolves would see it and smell it and hear it, too.
Most wolf packs worked alone, but we lived too close together to constantly avoid teamwork. We either formed our truces and found ways to get along, or one of us would have to move. The Seattle wolves were penned in more than we were, so either we would have to move out into our land or we would have to fight.
I didn't want to fight. I was pretty sure we would win, but the losses would be tremendous. A good leader knew when to stand her ground and when to compromise.
A good leader kept her people alive.
Besides, if someone was breaching their hunting grounds, ours might be next, and I didn't want strangers in my territory, either poachers or Rafael's wolves tracking the poachers. Better to take care of the problem before that happened. I maintained very strict rules about what animals could be taken from our hunting grounds and how frequently kills could be made.
Hunting grounds were special, and it was the pack leader's job to protect them.
Rafael's request—and it was Rafael's request, not a request from the Seattle pack—was interesting. His youngest son was looking for a mate, and one of my wolves had caught his eye. They weren't dating; I wasn't sure if they'd even spoken, but his son wanted permission to come to the Eastside to pursue my wolf. It wasn't all that unusual for a wolf to look outside his pack for a mate, but it was a little strange to look so close to home. Then again, most packs didn't live in each other's shadow.
The oddest thing of all was that Rafael had enough children to have a youngest. Female werewolves didn't get pregnant easily, and their pregnancies were difficult. Though we regulated biting, new wolves were far more likely to be created than born. When a family managed to have a born wolf, they usually only had one.
I agreed to allow Rafael's son to have restricted access to the pack for one month; I would review it at the end of the period, unless I had a complaint before then. Their interactions would be supervised, at least at first; though I didn't think this was an attempt to infiltrate and destroy my wolves one at a time, I wasn't going to let him walk right in and have unlimited access either.
The Seattle wolves were getting ready to leave when I got up and walked over to Rafael. I kept my voice low, not that I was trying to hide anything. Not that it would work even if I was, because everyone could hear me even if I whispered.
"Why don't you stay for dinner?" I offered.
"You can feed us all?"
"Of course I can." I lifted the corner of my mouth, the precursor to a full snarl. Was he questioning the prosperity of my pack? Maybe he wasn't so fucking hot after all.
"Of course," he echoed and shot me a half smile. He leaned a little closer, until I could feel the heat from his body. It was a practiced move, an offer to scent him, to test his sincerity. "I meant, you want all of us to stay?
I took his offer and breathed him in, making no move to hide it. Then I bared my teeth, almost but not quite a smile. He wanted me and now I knew it.
"I just want one of you," I teased and chose my words with care, "but two other wolves from each pack sounds fair."
He chuckled, and it was a dark sound that reminded me of clouds over the moon and fresh dirt beneath my paws.
"Dinner's good," he said and angled toward me closer still, "and dessert."
Fiona wasn't going to be happy about our guests, but I could make it up to her in the bedroom after. I wanted more time with Rafael, away from the prying, knowing eyes of my wolves. Wolf packs gossiped; some leaders wasted a lot of energy trying to shut them up, but the way I figured it, we had to keep so many secrets anyway, it was good to let them discuss the little things. My sex life, though, I preferred to keep somewhat private.
Rafael grinned at me, and I smirked back. I liked to flirt. Sometimes, that meant flirting with danger.
Dinner went well. The conversation after dinner went even better, so much so that we dismissed our bodyguards. They were loath to leave us, but when the pack leader tells you to go, you get gone.
I really didn't plan to take him to bed, despite our flirtation, but that's exactly what happened.
Fiona took a liking to him the minute she saw him. We didn't often have the same taste in men, and it was nice when our desires lined up. He wasn't bothered at all by the two of us living together, or by the both of us flirting with him. Sometimes, the older werewolves were quite conservative and either thought two women together were playing house until the right man came along or that we existed only to titillate them.
Rafael wasn't like that. He respected us; he was polite and friendly and told funny stories about trying to control werewolves in the middle of a city. He'd come to Seattle from the pack in Costa Rica, following a woman he loved. She had died shortly after he won pack leader. It was a sad story, but he was very matter-of-fact about it.
I liked that about him. That's why, when I refilled his coffee, I kissed him.
He knew how to kiss; the pressure was absolutely perfect, firm without being demanding. He didn't hesitate to touch me. He put one hand in my hair and the other on my hip, but he didn't push too fast, either.
I brushed my lips along his jaw, intrigued by the stubble, and then bit the side of his throat. The noise he made went straight through me, and I straddled his lap and did it again.
Fiona came up behind me and pressed herself against my back; she wasn't wearing a bra, and I could feel her nipples hard beneath her shirt. She kissed him over my shoulder, and her hands slid around between us, stroking my stomach and his.
"Upstairs?"
I nodded and moved to get off him, but he tightened his grip and pressed his mouth to mine again. Fiona worked her hands up under my shirt until she could cup my breasts and rub her palms against my nipples.
Rafael tugged gently on my hair until I tilted my head back, and then he kissed my throat. He worked his lips, teeth, and tongue across my skin, teasing me, tormenting me. It was too gentle one moment, too rough the next, and then he soothed the spot and moved on.
Fiona continued to touch me, press against me, and when she put her mouth on the other side of my throat and bit down, a bright, sharp pain, I started to shake. What they were doing felt so good.
"Upstairs," she said again, and that time it wasn't a question.
We made it to the bed, but only just. Fiona held my hand while we walked upstairs and reached back for Rafael with her other. He touched the small of my back, and I wanted to feel him against my skin, so I chucked my shirt before we'd even hit the hallway.
I turned when he was still on the top step and kissed him again while I tried to unbutton his jeans. They were annoying as hell, button-fly, and what kind of self-respecting werewolf wore something so difficult to remove?
My fingers shook, and Fiona pushed them out of the way.
I may be hard to rile up, but once I go, I'm gone. She was the calm one; while I kissed him, and practically humped his thigh, she worked all the buttons free, and then pulled me off so he could remove them.
She kissed my shoulder, and then ran her tongue down to my breast and around my nipple. I clutched at her with one hand and shoved my shorts down with the other. They were loose enough they slid off my waist and only stuck a bit on my hips; Rafael was right there to work them down my legs.
He knelt, helped me step out of them, and kissed the curve of my hip. One hand cupped my ass, the other pressed to my stomach, and then slid lower until he eased his fingers between my legs. I was wet already, and his growl was definitely appreciation.
I worked one hand free and grabbed his hair; I loved that moment, looking down at him, watching him touch me, and the way his scent was thick with want. He bit my stomach, just below my belly button and tilted his head until he could smirk up at me. I thrust my hips forward and bumped against him; he dug his nails into my ass.
I was perfectly happy to fuck right there in the hallway, but Fiona pushed me away from him and into our room. I tumbled over the end of the bed and sprawled across i
t. She stripped off her clothes and leaped to join me. Rafael finished undressing and crawled across the floor after us in a quick rush of movement that was more wolf than man.
He came at the bed from the side, and I launched myself into him when he jumped up, hitting him hard enough to tumble him beneath me. He landed on his back, and I rose up over him and straddled his hips. His dick was hard, his eyes dilated with lust, and a low, steady growl rumbled his chest.
I wanted, more than anything at that moment, to fuck him, so I lowered myself onto him. It had been awhile since I had anything of flesh and blood inside me; our strap-ons were wonderful, but couldn't match the heat of him, the slow burn that built as I rocked against him and blood rushed through both our bodies.
Fiona bent over his head, offering him her breasts. He had one hand on my thigh, clutching at me without trying to guide me, but with the other he touched her, stroked her hair, the curve of her cheek, the swell of her breast. He bumped his head against her breasts and breathed in, scenting her; beneath me, he shuddered, his dick throbbing inside me, and it was delicious.
She moaned when he bit her nipple, and my whole body tightened. I was on the edge of an orgasm.
I leaned back, shifted my weight to keep my balance and keep thrusting, and pressed my fingers to my clit, back and forth, quick movements that made me jerk in response. Rafael dragged his nails down my thigh, tearing open my flesh. The pain mixed with my pleasure and that was it; I'd been building toward this from the second I scented him when he walked into my pack business room. I clenched around his dick and came so hard my vision flashed black and white, the wolf in me rising up inside. I thought he'd come, too, but when I relaxed and rolled sideways off him so I wouldn't collapse on top of Fiona, he either hadn't or he was already hard again.
Fiona pulled away to kiss me, and he touched her, slid a hand up her thighs and pushed his fingers into her cunt. She cried out, and I swallowed the sound.
She leaned forward, bending me backward until I was on my back and she was on her hands and knees above me. I put my hands on her shoulders, dug my nails into her skin, and felt the exact moment Rafael rose up behind her and thrust inside.
I had set a hard pace, but he moved even faster with her, deeper thrusts, and his hands met mine on her back. I splayed my fingers over his, and then twisted myself until I could lick one of her nipples.
She grunted when he slammed inside, and then let out a cry that bordered on a howl. She was close, I could smell it, could feel the way her body shook against mine. I bit into her breast, hard enough to momentarily bruise, and moved a hand to her clit; I scraped one fingernail across it, and then the pad of my finger, circling hard and fast.
Her orgasm hit and she screamed so loud the neighbors would have come running if they weren't used to our noises. Rafael froze for a moment, a stutter in his driving rhythm, and then he came, too.
He tossed back his head and howled; I joined him, though I was sated, and then Fiona chimed in, too, a more soprano counter tone to ours.
She collapsed on top of me, and I worked my way out from beneath her. It would have been nice to have Rafael spend the night, sleep in a pile, wake to fuck again, but he was pack leader, and so was I. He couldn't stay without his people, and I had already pressed my luck by keeping only Fiona around.
I walked him to the door, collecting clothes as we went. He dressed, but I remained naked. I didn't have to go outside.
"I'll contact you when I send my bloodhounds," I said. "We'll track down whoever is breaching your borders."
He stared at me for a moment, his eyes more golden than before. He was riding close to his shift; I had a brief, visceral image of running with him through the woods and how well the three of us would hunt together.
"I'm looking forward to working with you," he said and kissed me. He was an inch shorter than me, maybe slightly less, and it was an easy thing to put my arms around him, to tangle my fingers in his hair.
We parted and were pack leaders again, formal and slightly distrustful of each other.
As a rule, I didn't fuck other pack leaders, but I regretted nothing as I watched him walk to the street where his bodyguards waited. I nodded to my two wolves who watched them and closed the door, shutting out the night and the politics and the tempered wildness of the wolves in human form.
Fiona waited for me upstairs, the covers turned back, my pillow cool and fluffed. I turned off the last of the lights and went to join her. I could feel the energy of the pack change when the Seattle wolves left our borders. We closed in on ourselves, metaphorically circling together in a den that spanned the neighborhood.
Fiona smiled at me when I crawled into bed with her. Her warmth was delicious, and I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her closer. She put her head on my shoulder and draped her arm across my chest.
I stroked her hair and let myself relax as much as I ever did.
The recommendations for Lily's man worked out, and I set people to planning his induction into the pack during the next full moon. Kyle's family had passports. The border wolves said they had plenty of prey, and for a set amount per kill, they'd let Kyle's family hunt. It was within our price range, so I had our lawyer—Fiona, actually—draw up a contract.
Not all packs have wolf lawyers, but I highly recommend it. We definitely had the advantage during negotiations and contract writing, and it just never hurt to keep a fine, upstanding citizen around, one active in local business, bar associations, and the boards of various nonprofit groups.
See? We wouldn't hurt anyone; we're good people. It was the modern day version of sheep's clothing, and it worked very well.
Dean's situation was another thing entirely. I had my second-in-command look into it—bringing humans near the pack around the full moon was serious business—in part because he was discrete.
Not discrete enough, and by the end of the week, even Fiona asked about it.
We were watching a movie, cuddled on the couch together. She leaned back into me so I could play with her hair and she could put her feet up on the arm. Her toes were a little swollen. I blamed the shoes she wore to look like the humans at work.
"Do you think Dean's really sneaking humans in?" she asked during a boring, talky part.
"That was quick." Though I knew how much my wolves loved to gossip, and I allowed them to do so, sometimes it still surprised me how fast information spread. Leaders who tried to keep an iron control and stop wolves from talking never lasted long.
I wouldn't confirm or deny, and she knew it, but that didn't stop her from asking.
"Who's he been scening with?" I asked instead.
She shrugged. "I don't know, he hasn't been to the last few play parties, or if he was, he left before we showed up."
"Huh." I twisted her hair around my fingers while I thought about that.
"You going to top him?" she asked. "If he's innocent?"
She was echoing my thoughts. When we first started sleeping together, I found it creepy. I didn't like that someone could read me so well. I was fighting my way up through the pack, and I was afraid she was sussing out my weaknesses.
Now it was just comforting.
"Maybe." I shrugged. "Would you mind if I took him downstairs?"
"Yes." My hand stilled in her hair. I hadn't expected that. We frequently played with others, especially when we both wanted to top. I only went submissive with her, and very rarely at that, so we frequently had to find other bottoms.
"Would you mind if I played with him at one of the parties?"
"Not at all." Fiona took a deep breath. "I don't want us bringing new people into the dungeon anymore. It doesn't feel..." but she trailed off.
"It doesn't feel what?" I prodded.
"Safe." She rolled over onto her back and stared at the ceiling. "It doesn't feel safe."
The hunt for the intruder—or intruders—into Seattle's north hunting grounds dragged on. I sent a team, and my bloodhounds agreed, yes, it was the work of a werewolf, but no
one could agree on how many. That was a bad sign, and I needed to figure out what to do about it. For a single bloodhound not to be able to pinpoint whether there was one wolf or multiple wolves was unusual, but for five bloodhounds for two packs to fail, well, that started to look like sabotage.
I kept a close eye on my wolves.
Things at home continued apace. I did my work, Fiona did hers, we completed our rituals, shared and not. We put up new decorations for Thanksgiving, put away the Halloween stuff, and began to plan the pack's winter holidays celebration.
I thought, perhaps, we would invite Rafael.
And then, one morning, everything changed.
I was in the kitchen, going through the breakfast ritual, and Fiona was upstairs in the shower. The water switched off, and she took longer than normal to leave the bathroom, but that didn't warn me that anything was wrong.
When she started down the stairs, my head jerked up. Something had excited her. I couldn't smell fear, but I wasn't sure if she was happy, either. Mostly, I thought, she smelled like adrenaline, so whatever it was had surprised her, at least. Maybe it wasn't a flight or fight situation. Maybe it was.
My heartbeat picked up and I widened my stance, squatted toward the floor. I was already naked, I could shift in a breath and howl for help. The whole block was pack, they would hear, they would come running.
She turned the corner, biting her lower lip bloody, and my stomach growled at the smell. It took her a minute to notice me, though she knew I was there. My scent was everywhere, and I was so tall and broad I was hard to miss. Where else would I be, for that matter?
When she looked up, she bared her teeth. It was a smile, but twisted, crazed.
"I'm pregnant," she said, and my thoughts all crashed down.
She called into work, I canceled my meetings, and, for awhile, we sat together, saying nothing. Eventually her scent returned to normal. I knew mine was still agitated; it's hard to smell yourself, but I felt shaken to my core and knew I wasn't going to calm down any time soon.
Fiona knew it, too, I think, and asked me to take her downstairs. I did, even though I didn't feel like dungeon time. It was a mistake, I knew better, but my thoughts were scattered, my attention far away.
Daughters of Artemis Page 2
