The mother came running in, groaning when she caught sight of the cub. “Axel.”
The cub hid behind me and I flashed my ass at the still-silent Sascha as I scooped the little werewolf up, standing.
I held the cub at eye level. “Did you run away from your mother, Axel?”
He didn’t make a sound, and I brought our faces closer. “Do you see that you worried her?”
He whined.
“I hear you. Your mother doesn’t want to stop you having fun. You just need to tell her where you’re going. If she says no, it’s for a reason and because she loves you.”
The cub lowered his gaze, and I passed him to the woman.
“How is he?” I asked as the cub licked her face.
She smiled. “A day later and you would never have known.”
I squeezed her arm. “I’m glad.”
Her gaze flickered over my shoulder.
Oh, yeah.
Tossing my hair, I smiled saucily at Sascha. Could werewolves turn to stone? I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t no reaction.
“Call me, honey bear.” I blew a kiss.
Leroy lifted a hand and caught it.
Sascha glowered at his right-hand wolf.
Spinning on my heel, I sighed happily and strutted to the door. The women stood grinning to my right, though the male Luthers skittered back as though burned.
Mandy’s grin was the largest. She held up her hand as I passed.
I slapped my palm against hers.
“I think I’m in love with you,” she hushed.
Snorting would ruin my work. “I could only ever love Sascha Greyson. His dick or no dick.”
Her laughter followed me out.
30
Roderick, the head team member I was shadowing, moved a large black statue that denoted a Luther team into position at the far end of the Sandstone mock-up board.
At this moment, the other strategy teams were finalising ideas to evade the Luther’s drones and nets in the grid.
New manoeuvres rolled out this morning at dawn and would be practiced again tomorrow.
But my team sought to understand the wolves—their habits and tendencies, their strengths and weaknesses and hierarchy. We could then exploit those things.
I loved it.
Intense didn’t begin to cover the energy in the room.
The fifteen men and women—all above thirty—considered the board covering the square table. So much hinged on the next grid and Operation Charise was no longer. What we’d come up with was good, but it centred on information I’d yielded from The Dens. The pressure of that was huge.
“Any final comments?” Roderick asked.
I leaned forward.
Our plan was research, really. We’d go for Sascha—to observe what effect this strategy had on his pack.
What no one knew was that Greyson might go for me. But with our attack centred on him this week, the tribe’s plan would also act as my personal defence.
“That’s a wrap then, people,” he said. “Great work. We’ll unleash things the Luthers have never seen before thanks to Andie.”
I forced a smile as the team shot praise my way, some patting me on the back. They filed out and I studied the board. Was there anything we’d missed? What had the other teams decided upon?
I couldn’t feel confident only knowing one piece of the plan.
“The trick is to let go of the outcome,” Roderick murmured, collecting the papers and dismantling the board. “It’s the hardest part.”
“Yeah, I feel responsible for how this goes.”
“It’s a lot to handle. Over time, your resilience builds—after a few more rounds with the gin and dummies, you’ll be fine.”
Ugh, everyone knew about that.
The early-forties man laughed as I pulled a face. “Let it go, Andie. Trust me on that. You’ve done the work and put in the effort. Now trust in yourself and this team. Know that very little else is in your control.”
The last part didn’t jive whatsoever. “I’ll work on that.”
Roderick held up his full case. “I’m sure you will. Before I forget, here are the books you asked for.”
He drew out two thick and bound files. “One is a more in-depth of the tribe’s history. The work of our older stewards. The other contains the notable successes of past grid strategies.”
I wanted to deepen my understanding of the tribe beyond what I’d already learned. I’d like to learn more about Mum’s family, and I didn’t want to let this team down—even if I was only Roderick’s for a while.
“Thank you. This is great.”
“Keep them,” he said. “Those are your copies. It’s nice for a younger person to take interest in tribe history. Our lead historian nearly fainted from joy when I told her.”
“Sorry to interrupt.” Herc popped his head in. “Rod, could I have a word with Andie, please?”
My pulse ramped up.
Roderick left with a nod to Herc.
“How are you getting on?” he asked, entering the room.
I smiled. “I really like this.”
“So I’ve heard. I see you have a bit of light reading there?” He gestured at the books in my grip.
I shrugged a shoulder. “It’s a strange feeling to come into this tribe. I feel like I belong here but lack the knowledge and experiences.”
“I wish you could hear and see how our stewards view you. A fantastic debut in Clay. Extra trainings and shooting practice, not to mention your work in The Dens on the frontline. You’re committed to learning everything you can. Don’t think for a minute that any person here is unaware of your aptitude and dedication to Victratum.”
I appreciated the reassurance after charging into pack lands in my thong. Especially because I hadn’t heard hide nor hair from Sascha since. I was starting to think my plan really worked.
“I do have one question,” he hesitated. “Gerry noticed a gun missing from our stores. I looked back through the footage and well…”
Ah, fuck.
A sinking feeling pitted in my stomach. “I took the gun when things became tense at work. Before our talk.”
Herc perched on the square table. “I didn’t realise things were bad enough that you felt you may need to physically defend yourself.”
I really didn’t want my uncle to think I was a thief. “I should have asked—”
“I’m pulling you from The Dens.”
My jaw dropped. “What?”
“If you’re grabbing a tranquiliser gun, you’re more than worried. You’re scared.”
“It’s important that I’m there. The stuff I’m learning is changing the way we approach the game.”
“If there was a way to do that safely, I’d do it in a heartbeat. But I don’t gamble with the lives of my stewards and certainly not my niece.”
The use of the word gamble wasn’t purposeful, perhaps, but it drew me up short. He didn’t want to risk my safety.
He, unlike my mother, was putting me first.
I lowered my chin, trying to assemble the scattered direction of my thoughts.
“Sometimes, when we’re in something, it becomes hard to make clear decisions,” he said softly.
I sighed. “I’m not being objective, am I?”
“Can any one person be entirely objective?”
Sascha Greyson. “Guess not.”
“Sometimes, we must trust in those around us to provide clarity. I admire your dedication to this tribe, Andie. It warms my heart and has lit a fire in the hearts of the Ni Tiaki. But as head steward, I’m drawing your time at The Dens to a close.”
There wasn’t any room for argument, and I didn’t feel the need to do so anyway.
“I can deal with that.”
“I’m glad,” he said. “Now, I need a favour if you can handle another three hours of meetings today.”
I grimaced. “Rhona isn’t here?”
“Nowhere to be found. Could you pretend to be her, so my head t
eam doesn’t think my daughter has better things to do than her duty?”
I checked my laughter, perceiving Herc was upset. “As long as that won’t stand on her toes.”
“She has steel-capped boots. My daughter won’t feel a thing.”
I stumbled into my apartment, tired beyond comprehension. My nose twitched at the aromas filling the kitchen.
What?
Dinner bubbled on the oven top. The table was set. Two placemats. My pine-scented candle flickered there.
The last time I saw that was when I threw it from the manor window.
“Sascha, honey bear?” I called.
I tensed as he padded from the bedroom, shirtless and barefoot, ripped jeans slung low.
Blood rushed in my ears.
“Little bird,” he said conversationally, crossing to the cooker. “How was your day?”
Slowly, I set my duffel by the door. “Long. My brain hurts.”
“I know the feeling,” he murmured as I circled behind him.
My stomach growled and the corner of his mouth crooked.
“It’s nearly done.”
I sniffed. “What is it?”
And why the fuck are you cooking me dinner?
My eyes wandered over his muscled back. Body fat was a foreign concept to this man. I swallowed.
Hard.
“Spaghetti bolognaise.”
“My favourite.” I sat at the dining table.
This was another game.
Greyson hadn’t made up his mind about my thong stunt. And this was their test—cook me dinner half-naked.
What reaction was he after?
“I prefer men to cook for me naked,” I probed. “Forgot to put that on the list.”
“What can I say?” the Luther replied. “I’m shy.”
Yeah, and I was the Queen of Cusco. Did he want me to feel uncertain? Was that it?
This couldn’t be the capture meet… surely.
I ran through Mandy’s instructions in case. I had to, shit, what was it? Maintain distance. Speak the formal words. Take up that weird position she made me practice.
“Can’t say I have issues with shyness.” I crossed my legs.
Amusement coloured his voice. “So I saw. My female pack members are quite enamoured of you after yesterday.”
Because they were smart enough to realise what I was doing. Had they helped translate my actions for their male leader though? “Were you enamoured, honey bear?”
“I was enamoured the first moment I heard your voice. Sweet as chiming bells. A siren’s call on a soft, summer breeze.”
Uh… Pretty sure I screamed in his face.
He turned, honey eyes in place, but I wasn’t fooled for a second.
Greyson was behind this.
I raked his chest with my gaze. “Well, serve dinner, hot stuff. Your woman is starving.”
His eyes darkened ever so slightly before a wolfish smile graced his face. He set a glass of red wine in front of me. “Of course… lover.”
I forced back laughter, fanning my lashes down. “I’m not sure about that one. People may think we’re not forever.”
“Mother of my children?”
I moaned. “That’s more like it. Such a turn-on.”
His lips twitched and he got to work. Soon, two plates of pasta and sauce, sprinkled with parmesan steamed before us.
Sascha sat gingerly, staring at the glass top in consternation. “This table is very breakable.”
For someone with super strength. Probably, yes.
“How was your day?” I dug in, and my eyes rounded. “Whoa, this is really good.”
“My mother’s recipe. She looks forward to meeting you again.”
I lowered my fork.
He met my gaze steadily.
Did your mum see my ass yesterday? I gathered the answer was yes. My tone was demure. “I hope my mother-in-law approves of me.”
He choked on his pasta.
“Be careful, baby daddy.” I shoved more pasta in my mouth.
He sipped at his beer, eyeing me.
Greyson was in the driver’s seat, lurking under the surface. I knew it. The werewolf couldn’t seriously believe I’d meant anything from yesterday, but the fact remained that I removed the challenge. My actions drained some of the mounting tension between us. Without it, Greyson couldn’t be satisfied for the capture meet.
Ha!
I sipped at my wine, unbuttoning the top of my jeans.
He tracked the movement. “Better now?”
“I recommend you try it. Pasta isn’t meant to be eaten in jeans.”
Holding my gaze, he unfastened the top of his jeans. I took in the challenge in his eyes.
Is that why he’d come? For a game of chicken?
Game on.
Sascha leaned over. “I hope you’re ready to be fucked, Andie Booker.”
Christ.
My heart rate skyrocketed.
That fucking escalated.
He searched my face. “You’ve never been with a werewolf, but don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. You’ll be ruined for human men when I’m done.”
“Please ruin me,” I managed to say.
He rounded the table.
Sascha Greyson was trying to re-establish the challenge.
He wanted to see how far I’d go, but I had an ace in my hand. This man wouldn’t take anything I wasn’t willing to give.
Sascha tilted my chin, and I didn’t hesitate to stand, grazing my hands up his rigid abs on the way.
His stomach tightened under my touch, and I pressed my advantage, going for the kill. I kissed across his chest, softly biting his nipple.
He hissed, arms clamping down my wandering hands.
I peeked through my lashes. “Is this okay?”
His jaw clenched and after a beat, he eased his grip, hands sliding up my arms. Growling, he jerked me close, lifting me with a hand under my ass, his other arm tight around my waist.
I ground against his erection as he strode through the apartment with me in tow. Sascha inhaled sharply, his eyes never a brighter honey.
“Undress me,” I panted on the bed.
Sascha paused briefly, then his hands moved to his jeans. His pants hit the floor.
Underwear apparently wasn’t a necessity.
I took in the naked werewolf, ears buzzing. Dragging my gaze upward, I didn’t say a word. His lips curled and he gripped my legs, thumbs circling my ankles as he worked his hands higher.
I rested back, arching. Guys loved that shit.
His fingers deftly flicked open the buttons of my shirt, but he left it unopened. Concealing my smirk, I did the honours, shrugging out of it and unclasping my black bra.
My breasts bounced free.
He stopped moving. Maybe breathing.
I didn’t budge as Sascha closed the space, his mouth latching onto my nipple.
A soft cry left my lips and I cupped the back of his head, warmth flooding my body. My legs fell open, and a fierce snarl filled him. He drew back, no softness in his expression as his hands moved to the front of my jeans.
Our eyes locked in silent battle.
He wouldn’t do it.
I was a Thana. He was a Luther. There were things we couldn’t play with.
Sex.
We were pushing this too far.
I didn’t move. Sascha’s eyes darkened for the slightest moment. Shit. I was in this to win. I gripped his hand, directing it to my zipper. He drew it down with a slowness that bordered on painful.
It spoke for how he may do other things.
Tense, I lifted up as he removed my jeans.
“I’m going to make you fly, little bird.” He dragged a thumb over my lips. “The town will hear your screams.”
“That better be a promise.” My fear spiked at the image he painted for me.
His expression faltered for the barest second before he pressed my thighs wide, breaking eye contact as he lowered his head. Sascha ran his nose over my
black underwear and I choked on a gasp, clamping my knees around his head.
It was nothing for him to spread them again.
He looked at me.
I recovered. “I’m so sensitive. Don’t stop.”
He hooked a finger in the crotch of my underwear, and I became aware neither of us were breathing. His honey eyes held mine and I burned. He moved my underwear aside, head lowering again.
I could feel his breath on me. It felt incredible, like a promise.
Maybe I could do this and never say anything. Maybe—
“Stop,” I blurted, squeezing my eyes shut.
Sascha was gone in an instant, and I closed my legs tight.
When I sat, his jeans were back on, but they didn’t hide the evidence of his arousal.
Pitch-black eyes regarded me over a subtle smirk.
Fucking damn it!
I smiled sweetly. “I want our first time to be perfect.”
Greyson’s smirk widened. “My match is cunning.”
I grabbed my shirt, shrugging into it. Where did I throw my bra? “No. Your match is just…”
He waited and I clambered off the bed in my underwear and shirt.
“The game is up,” he said, voice guttural.
I nearly bolted from the bedroom back into the kitchen.
He stalked after me. “Yesterday was a clever ploy.”
“Not a ploy,” I gasped. We both knew the charade just imploded. “That should show you what lengths I’m willing to go to for this to stop.”
“This doesn’t stop until we are one.”
Heat crept over my jaw. “You said I can say no.”
The wolf smiled. “You can, but you won’t. Not for much longer. Not in the end. All that stands between us is the world.”
He’d said that twice now. “What do you mean?”
I choked as Greyson rushed me, but he merely rested a hand at the base of my throat, palm covering my collarbone.
His lips brushed my ear. “If it were just us, lover, then you would already be ours. Nothing will keep us from you for long. And one day, one day, you will fight the world to reach us too.”
The gentle weight on my collarbone disappeared, and I sagged forward, gasping as the white sheer curtains surged outward.
He was gone.
31
“Just a few notes?” Wade scrolled through the huge memo on my phone.
Shifter Wars: Supernatural Battle (Werewolf Dens Book 1) Page 31
