by Gaja J. Kos
“In the meantime, I suggest you go home, Lotte. It’s more important than ever that you stay in that tournament. I’ll be in touch the moment there are any changes.”
I wrung my fingers together, steadying myself. It felt wrong to leave Rihard alone. Like I was walking away from a problem…
But there was nothing I could do for him here.
I nodded at Isa, a curt dip of my chin, then let Alec guide me down the hall.
No, I couldn’t do a damn thing for Rihard here. But out there, I wasn’t powerless.
Alec parked his car on the curb just a few steps down from his building. I nestled myself deeper in my seat when he scooted out, my mind pounding with shit and shittier thoughts.
Staring blankly at the dashboard, I waded through them in a futile attempt to at least make some sense of it all. But I was drowning, falling into depths that were far greater than I could hope to grasp.
So it wasn’t really all that surprising that when Alec opened my door, I nearly fell out.
It was only the firm hold of the seatbelt that saved me from what would have been a painful face plant.
I straightened up and shot him a questioning look. “What are you doing?”
“That quick stop I wanted to make. It’s for you.”
I frowned. What was he going on about?
“We’ll go to the compound later,” he grumbled. “Just stop being a stubborn ass for one second and get out of my car.”
While I didn’t know how it was possible, I actually smiled at the exasperation in his words. I undid the seatbelt, then took his hand and let him guide me across the small parking lot all the way up to his apartment. Once inside, Alec left me standing in the living room with a quick command to wait. He emerged not a moment later, cradling a bundle of fresh sweats in his arms.
“I know you could’ve showered at the club, but I thought you might appreciate something a little more…private.” His smile was warm, caring, although the worry in his eyes lingered. “I dug up the comfiest sweats I own, too.”
“You do know that I’ll mourn your loss when some lucky girl finally snags you?” I whispered as I placed a kiss on his cheek.
“Yeah, unless that agent of yours doesn’t snag you first,” he said softly, a hint of mischief in his voice.
I chuckled, feeling the beginning of tears burn at the backs of my eyes. Alec was just…precious. I couldn’t have asked for a better friend in my life.
Fighting another laugh that wanted to climb out of my throat, I pursed my lips and met his gaze. “I honestly think Isa would sooner sink her fangs in me in the deathly permanent way than the orgasm-giving one.”
His expression turned thoughtful. “Maybe both?”
For a second we stood perfectly still, the apartment so quiet it seemed neither of us was even breathing. Then, as if something ripped, I burst out laughing.
“I don’t know about you,” I said while sucking in some much needed air, “but I prefer to live another day after sex.”
“Then maybe”—he smiled, dazzling white and so brilliant I felt warmth pool in the vee of my thighs—“we’ll see if you can get some of that living today.”
“Shower first. Then I just might take you up on that offer.”
I didn’t pull on the sweats, as comfortable as they looked. Instead, I strode out of the bathroom wearing nothing but my skin, and set out to find Alec.
He was in the kitchen, brewing a cup of coffee that smelled almost as good as he did. I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with his scent.
Somehow, there were no traces of the hospital gloom clinging to him. Only the sun and sweat—and the sense of freedom moving on the alluring orange of a tennis court could give.
I padded up behind him, careful not to make a sound even though I knew he’d undoubtedly picked up on my presence. Alec, however, seemed more than happy to play along.
He placed the mug on the counter as I tugged on his shirt, then obliged my silent command by lifting his arms so that I could relieve him of the fabric. Excitement stirred at the sight of his honed back, and I couldn’t resist placing a kiss on his golden tan. Muscles rippled beneath my lips in response, strong and inviting.
I grazed my teeth across his shoulder blade, then up his neck, raising myself on my tiptoes to nibble at his ear.
Alec groaned when I pressed up even closer against him, rubbing my breasts against the smooth expanse of his skin while my hands traveled down his front, all the way to the waistband of his shorts. I slipped a hand inside, finding him hard and deliciously ready.
I sensed, more than saw, him grip the counter, his erection growing thicker under the lazy caresses of my fingers. Gods, he felt good. Every twitch of his body was a familiar melody I liked to dance with, again and again.
I listened to the raspiness of his breaths, feeling the way his muscles flexed as I stole away inch after inch of his control. He tipped his head back, hips grinding against my hand as he willed me to go faster, harder.
But we weren’t out on the court, where the explosion of speed could mean the difference between winning or losing.
There was no rush here. No sprints. Just the mind-shattering pleasure of sensing him quiver under each stroke of my fingers.
I sank my teeth into his neck, nibbling the healthy pulse coursing through his veins and continued with my devious torture. My mind was attuned to him and him only, picking up all those small tells that let me know when he was nearing the point of no return. I eased off every time just to bring him back again.
But the best part was knowing that he wouldn’t last much longer.
My body tensed in anticipation as the urge within him rose, spilling into the air until I was breathing lust.
Then, with a snarl, Alec spun me around.
The coffee cup tumbled into the sink as he pushed my bare ass up on the counter, spread my legs, and buried himself inside me. I cried out at the sudden fullness between my thighs, but Alec was relentless. He surged into me, again and again, the rhythm harsh, hungry. Demanding.
My nails dug into his back, Alec’s mouth claiming mine feverishly and furiously, until I was drowning in the taste of him, the feel of him. My orgasm built up within me like a storm that would sweep away the world if it broke.
And when it did, when Alec came inside me with one last powerful thrust that brought us together, I screamed out, holding on to him as if he were the only safe harbor in this ocean of maddening release.
It was pitch black outside when Alec dropped me off at the compound. I was dressed in sweats that smelled like him, as did my skin, my helmet already resting in my hand.
I would have been worried about how much time had slipped by if I weren’t so glad to find the place nearly deserted. While I was doing much better, I had zero desire to discuss Rihard with any of my coworkers.
“See you tomorrow morning?” Alec asked, twirling his car keys between his fingers.
I took a step closer and met his gaze. “Sure.” A gentle brush of my lips against his. “And don’t think I’ll go easy on you just because you were a bloody knight on a white horse today.”
Alec grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
I snorted, but let him go without a comeback. I watched him climb back into his car and drive away, momentarily caught in the gratitude of knowing such an extraordinary person.
Everything he’d done today had been purely with the intention to make me feel better. He knew that, of course. But I didn’t believe for a second he could be of aware just how deeply thankful I was that he made me forget the sorrow—that he gave me the strength to follow up with my resolve and set me back on the right track. Perhaps even a better one than I had been on before.
Holding on to this newly found strength, I started my Vulcan and sped from the underground garage.
The drive back home was blissfully uneventful. I kept to the main roads, throwing in just a few shortcuts where the traffic was denser, and reached my street in re
putable time. I checked my phone the instant I got off the bike, but there were no new messages waiting for me on the lock screen.
I sighed. It didn’t mean anything. The doctor had said it might take Rihard up to three days to wake up since werewolf bodies preferred to stay shut down while healing more serious damage. I knew this. I lived this. But I couldn’t help wishing it were otherwise.
Maybe a part of me still refused to accept that Rihard would be all right until I saw him up and about with my own two eyes.
Chewing on my lower lip, I stuffed the phone in the back pocket of my sweats and pulled my apartment keys from the under-seat compartment.
The single light illuminating the fenced lot behind the building flickered and died, leaving me submerged in the dark. Great.
I had the keen night vision of a werewolf at my disposal, so I wasn’t in danger of taking a tumble, but there were quite a few humans occupying the apartments above and below mine. I made a mental note to discuss hiring a new janitor when we next had our monthly meeting.
The current one seemed like a nice person, but he was fucking lazy and usually only got things right when you were on the verge of yelling at him. I winced at the thought, then pushed towards the back entrance.
I squeezed between two cars and was just about to ascend the short flight of rough cement steps when I smelled them.
Werewolves.
Two of them, lurking in the dark and creeping ever closer, their stealth admirable, but insufficient to trick me.
I smiled.
It seemed oddly fitting to end this shit day with a brawl.
11
My fingers tightened around the helmet the split second before I lashed out. I threw it at the werewolf on my left, a satisfying grunt fluttering to my ears, then launched towards the one on my right. I twisted mid leap and kicked, planting my foot straight in his chest.
He staggered back down the narrow strip of sidewalk, trying to get out of my reach, but I was already moving. I dropped down low the instant the parked cars squeezing us in gave way to open space, and swung my leg in a wide arc, tipping him backwards.
But before he even crashed onto the ground, the other came at me from behind.
I elbowed him between the ribs, then quickly snaked my hands around his arm and tossed him over my shoulder, using proper leverage to level the differences in our height and weight.
With the speed and precision I put into the move, he couldn’t even dream of evading the rough fall.
A growl trickled from my lips as I loomed over the two assholes lying side by side on the cracked asphalt, their blond hair ruffled and both panting wildly. Perfect, grimacing mirror images.
I clicked my tongue and crossed my arms. “Remind me again, how the fuck was it that you two survived the War given you can’t even ambush me without ending on your asses?”
My brothers grinned unanimously. “Cheating.”
Snorting, I helped the twins get on their feet, but a sliver of concern edged into my mind nonetheless. It had been cheating, in a way, that had gotten Jens and Jürgen through the War. Only it wasn’t something quite as trivial as a hidden dagger up a sleeve.
My brothers and their pack were The Dark Ones—a group of werewolves connected by an ancient force that bound their lives, their very souls together, and made them nearly unkillable.
They could get injured, severely at that, but unless someone wiped out the entire pack at once, they couldn’t die.
Not that it stopped me from worrying. Even a small chance was one too many, if you asked me.
“I thought you weren’t coming here until late summer,” I said over my shoulder as I led them through the back door and up the dingy-looking steps before they merged with the main stairwell. “Don’t you have jobs?”
“We’d missed enough of your matches already,” Jürgen offered, with Jens growling his agreement.
“Wouldn’t miss the beginning of the Games,” he chipped in.
I whirled around on my heels, one hand gripping the banister. “You heard about that?”
“The list was posted publicly today. I could smell your name on it from a mile away,” Jens said with a dramatic eye-roll.
Uh-huh. Right. Like I was believing that.
I guided them across the landing and fumbled with the lock, but blocked the twins’ path before they could enter. They weren’t getting off the hook quite so easily.
“Are you two keeping tabs on me?” I narrowed my eyes. “You stinky weasels, you are!”
Jens shrugged, but Jürgen muttered, “We could’ve scented you, you know.”
I stepped aside. “Why?”
“Mostly because you smell like you rolled in pure sex,” Jens answered matter-of-factly.
The comment gained him a murderous scowl, but Jens only shrugged it off and tipped his chin at Jürgen. “He smells like sex, too.”
He did, in fact. Despite the plane ride over from Ljubljana. And the S-bahn into Munich.
I grinned. “How’s your lovely wife?”
“I’m currently under the threat of her fangs for not taking her with me,” he jested, although I could sense the guilt seeping into the tone of his voice.
“She couldn’t get off work, huh?”
Jürgen shook his head. “Not on such short notice.”
“Ah, crap.”
It would have been nice to see Katja again after all these months, but working for Ljubljana PD kept her busy.
Actually, she wasn’t merely working for them. She was second only to Tomo, the human who had played a crucial part in helping my brothers and their pack win the War. None of us would probably be here now if it hadn’t been for his steel determination and open-mindedness. Tomo Kralj had been the one who made the reveal of the supernatural community possible with minimal backlash, the one who led a formidable group of humans to stand beside the pack and their supe allies, fighting threats that should have buried them in the rubble.
But they hadn’t.
Because Tomo had made sure his men had walked out onto that battlefield prepared.
Whether he liked to admit it or not, the man was a fucking hero, and I knew how much working with him meant to Katja.
So while I certainly missed her, I was also glad she was following her dreams. Unlike a certain ex tennis pro.
I shook off the thought and walked over to the fridge to grab us a six-pack of Paulaner while the twins made themselves comfortable in my living room.
Their familiar scent filled up the apartment, making it feel more like home than my lonesome self ever could. I’d grown up in a household of seven kids. While I loved and cherished my privacy, some part of me was still attuned to the old atmosphere of constant, well-natured bullshit.
A grin stretched across my face when I returned and handed out the cans. The twins were loud, obnoxious creatures, more so than any other Freundenberger could get, but I loved them with all my heart.
Well, maybe a little less whenever they decided to burn right though my entire stash of beer. Even the hidden one I kept in storage.
It seemed the brew never stood a chance at escaping their keen noses. The bastards.
“So how come you’re playing again?” Jens asked as he opened his can with a pleasing hiss.
“Well…” I struggled for words. Not because of the lie. Because of the truth it was tied to. “One of the kids from the club, Christian, he… He passed away earlier this week.”
Although the answer had obviously caught them by surprise, the twins erupted in murmurs of condolences that were composed of more curses than anything else without missing a beat. I shot them a quick, grateful smile, then tucked my hair behind my ears and took a long swig of my beer.
Unfortunately, it did little to mask the acidic taste the memory had left in my mouth.
“You know how Alec has always wanted to play another tournament with me, right?” I steered the subject in another direction. “The Munich Games are on home territory, so we thought we would enter this one l
ast time, give our winnings or whatever we manage to get to start a fund in Christian’s name. A little boost for those who can’t afford the equipment or the coaching.”
It was true, too. We’d settled on it before we left his place earlier today. It wasn’t a long conversation, really, and I had a distinct feeling Alec would have offered something along those same lines himself if I hadn’t spoken up first.
“That’s really nice of you.” Jürgen wrapped a muscular arm around me, drawing me into a hug.
I chuckled and punched him lightly on the shoulder, then straightened back up. “What about you? What are you asses up to?”
“Not all that much,” Jens replied. He crushed his already empty can and reached for another.
At this rate, we were going to end up beerless within the hour.
Well, I sure as fuck wasn’t making the trip to the nearest store.
He popped the can open, meeting my gaze. “We had a few disturbances in the supernatural community due to the registration rule the HSC is trying to pass.”
“The Species Registration bill?”
Jens nodded.
I faintly recalled what it was about from the headlines and Nathaniel himself, but with the early preparations for the Munich Games kicking off at about the same time the campaign did, I simply hadn’t found it in me to pay detailed attention to politics.
Not that I ever had much interest to begin with…
“Just so I don’t mix anything up, that is one where the species of each new child would be noted on the birth certificate, yeah?”
“Yeah. And it’s not a bad rule.” He sighed and threw one leg over the armrest. “Just one line on a slip of paper and in the digital registry. Makes it a whole lot easier to know who we’re dealing with in case of trouble.”
It had been a different world back then, sure, but before the War had reached its peak, the twins’ pack had discovered a shitload of false identities that had been excruciatingly time-consuming to crack. I couldn’t blame a single one of the veterans for wanting to know exactly who they were going up against if it came to it. Besides, with the supernatural out of hiding, what point was there to keep our true nature concealed?
