Only Pretty Betas: A Shifter Paranormal Romance Series (Rebel Werewolves Book 2)

by Rosemary A Johns

  Mischief let out an outraged howl, as Ramiel rolled him onto the lawn and pinned him, feathering kisses over his cheeks, nose, and forehead.

  Finally, Mischief melted underneath him with a muttered, “the indignity.”

  When Moth giggled, the rest of my pack snickered. Mischief might’ve just used up his godly credentials.

  Emperor caught my eye, before nodding back at the wreckage that’d once been my home. “Well, that was all highly bracing.”

  I shuddered. My pack were hugging and collapsed on the lawns: safe….for now.

  Yet Zetta had tried to murder us all.

  My hands shook in shock. We’d almost been buried alive. What would we do, since nowhere was safe? How on earth could we survive?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  I hunched my shoulders, staring blankly back at where the House of Silver had once stood and the terrible visions from the past that Zetta had shown me. Now, there was only rubble with the bones of beams and floorboards jutting out. I glowered at mangled remains of the metal cage from the Discipline Cellar.

  Holy hell, my Charms had witnessed the atrocities committed by my ancestors. How could they be lying here with me snuggled on the lawns? How could Amadeus be running his gloved hand up and down with teasing touches between my tits, until I thought that I’d growl at him just to caress my aching nubs, for the sake of Hecate?

  “I’m not the same as them,” I said in a small voice. “I’m not my great-grandmother or my mom.”

  I could sense that my guys had stilled but I didn’t dare look over at them.

  “Oh, but you are, witch girl.” Mischief’s sharp response shocked me into peeking at him. Mischief leaned up on his elbow, examining me intently. “Here’s an idea: change what you are, rather than lying to yourself about what you’re not. You shall always be a Wolf Charmer with the same fearsome power as your ancestors and the urge to abuse it. I’ve seen the struggle not to enjoy such control before.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Archduke Asshole, I’m more into painting, donuts, and Amadeus’ ass…not necessarily in that order…than abusing my crimson shadows.”

  “I do have a sexy behind.” Amadeus wiggled his ass against my hip, and I shivered.

  “Seconded,” Emperor agreed.

  “Do you need a third?” Moon called.

  Mischief’s eyes sparked. “Witless girl, the Glories of our world revel in dark amusements: pleasure and pain.”

  Cold flooded me. “I’m not like that.”

  “They desire to be the one collaring their lovers, whilst holding the leash and making those who have no choice but to follow them, crawl at their heels.”

  I reddened. Okay, put like that, I looked like a dick.

  After all, my Charms were lying next to me on the grass in their collars, and I didn’t want to analyze the happy little daydream that Mischief’s words had conjured that involved them naked and crawling…

  “And there it is,” Mischief said, softly.

  I jolted. Fun negotiated roleplay in my daydreams aside, I never wanted my guys to either be leashed or crawl. I’d hated seeing them chained or muzzled. If I could break them free of their collars without poisoning them, then I’d do it right now.

  Yet I couldn’t deny that the Wolf Charmer power was inside me; without it, I’d never have been open to any of the covens’ teachings. I pulled mom’s cape more closely around myself, stroking my fingers through its velvety softness.

  Mischief’s expression gentled. “You see now? Your choice is whether to follow in the cruel footsteps of the House of Silver or to start afresh a new legacy.”

  A new legacy? One that could be built on Crimson Tide, rather than the House of Silver…?

  “Who’s ready for Crimson’s pack?” I grinned.

  Amadeus whooped, whilst Emperor and Moon howled in unison in a way that made my skin tingle.

  I grinned, scrunching the cape tighter between my fingers. Then I frowned.

  Zetta had made sure that I had mom’s cape. Had she used it all this time to manipulate me by reminding me of my parents’ deaths, as well as moms’ shadow?

  Furious, I pulled away from Amadeus, wrenching the cape off my shoulders.

  During the werewolf attack and massacre, it had come to mean safety, but that was the lie. It meant a mom who I’d never truly known, a past that I didn’t want to weigh me down, and a woman who I didn’t want to become.

  I leapt up, hurling the cape onto the rest of my old life that I was leaving behind. It landed on the rubble like a tear of blood.

  Mischief pushed himself to his knees and inclined his head. “I shall admit that I was wrong to think you just another Glory. I’d be honored to be considered amongst your pack.”

  I took a steadying breath. “When were you going to spill that you’re returning to the Realm of the Seraphim?” Ramiel let out a cry, clutching Mischief’s shoulders like he couldn’t leave if he only held onto him tightly enough. Mischief ducked his head, whilst his wings drooped. “Those Gateways of yours are in your head again now, right? So, if that’s how Zetta or the covens dragged you here, then that’d mean you could hike a ride back that way.”

  Mischief leveled me with a glare. “What a charming way to inform me that you’ve grown weary of my company. Would you also like to tell me not to let your witchy boot hit my angelic behind on the way out?”

  I huffed. “You know that I want you to stay.”

  Mischief tapped his chin. “Do I? Why, thank you for informing me of what’s inside my own head. Considering you’re yet to inform me of that fact, I must be quite the psychic genius.”

  “Enough of that.” Moon crawled across the tangle of wolves and angels to cradle Mischief, licking down his neck. Mischief arched into Moon’s caresses. “Your godly behind is wanted and loved. Wasn’t my dying a sufficient sacrifice to prove it?”

  Mischief crumpled under Moon’s scrutiny, offering a weak smile. “Quite sufficient.”

  Moon rubbed his nose against Mischief’s. “Crimson’s trying to say in her typical witchy way…or it could be American…I’m never sure…”

  “Hey,” I protested, “no ganging up against the American witch.”

  Moon shrugged. “Fur and fangs, what she means is: are you leaving us?”

  Mischief squared his shoulders. “The Realm of the Seraphim is far from an easy land to reach without blood and…let’s just say that without someone truly special to add into my own magic, I don’t know whether it’s possible for me to return.” He gazed at me from underneath his eyelashes. “I apologize if you’d prefer me to lie but I ache for the family who I left behind and love.” He closed his eyes and took a ragged breath. “I love them with such crushing intensity that it was only Ramiel’s persistence that saved my life. I thought that my weakness and fading was perhaps from the loss of my lovers.”

  I fought back the growl in my throat, even if Amadeus hadn’t managed to restrain his.

  Mischief felt like mine, the same as my Charms and Addict angel. I’d found him in the Discipline Cellar on my first day in the House of Silver. He’d been part of this pack from the start.

  Yet he wasn’t because he already had a family.

  “It’s okay,” I choked out, “I get it. You told me about them upfront, and how…whatever your lover’s called…would never let you love a witch.”

  Mischief opened his eyes, before arching his brow. “Firstly, I believe that she would make an exception for you. You’re choosing to make your own legacy, remember? And secondly, are you the psychic one now? Even were I able to return with a click of ruby slippers to the Realm of the Seraphim, I wouldn’t go. Do you perceive why?”

  I gaped at him. “Because Dorothy won’t lend you the slippers, the dick?”

  Mischief attempted a smile, but there was a sudden sadness and grief that shocked me, before he masked it. “Because I’m the Moon God and the shifters are my people. I’ve never hidden from my duty before and no matter the cost, I shan’t now. Although the three ki
ngdoms act like oafish infants fighting between themselves, rather than protecting each other from the enemy who attacks them from without, I still must save them from their own idiocy.”

  “That was rousing.” Emperor flicked masonry off his robes, feigning a yawn. “I hope my own battle speeches as a prince are as inspiring.”

  Mischief’s lips curled. “You can always hope.”

  “And you didn’t wish to leave me.” Ramiel shuffled on his knees next to Mischief with a smile that was painful in its pleading.

  “And it would destroy me to ever leave you,” Mischief murmured.

  “I don’t want to be the buzzkill who brings down the romantic moment,” Amadeus slunk to his feet, before slipping his fingers under my chin and tilting my head towards the woods, “but there are Fallen watching us.”

  “Dual?” Impatient, I stared out at the shadows flitting between the trees, craning to catch a glimpse of the vampire duke, whilst my stomach fluttered at the thought.

  Was it my fault that his punk ass was so divinely hot? What would Dual’s tongue piercing have felt like if he’d done the same tricks as Amadeus…?

  I caught myself, shaking my head. Dual was a vampire duke and my enemy, wasn’t he? The last time that he’d been in this garden, Moon and I had humiliated him. Moon had the magical ability to mind control both vampires and angels, although he hated to use it, as much as I was learning to hate the control of my crimson powers unless that control had been willingly gifted to me.

  Dual would be less likely to kiss between my legs and more likely to sink his fangs into my neck.

  Although, he’d been kind of offended when I’d asked him about the blood drinking last time and told me that he’d only taken from willing Blood Lovers in a way that’d made it sound dangerously sexy.

  But then, vampires were dangerous, right?

  Moon’s mouth tightened. “By my hide, they’re vultures circling at the destruction of the wards.”

  “Or they know something even greater is being destroyed tonight…” Emperor’s gaze shot to mine.

  The full moon was climbing into the sky; it hung like a death mask above the spears of the trees.

  Moon prowled towards the wood. “Away with you! Didn’t your duke tell you? I can control your daft behinds.”

  The vampires scattered, disappearing back into the wood. Wow, that was either reassuring or seriously terrifying.

  I petted Amadeus, kissing down his neck, whilst he sighed. Then I smirked. “Aw, look at you, the Vampire Whisperer. Powerful Enough to Make a Vampire Piss His Pants; we should make it into your slogan.”

  Moon thrust out his chest, and boy, in his all-leather outfit that was enough to make him the Charmer Whisperer as well. “Are you mocking me, madam?”

  “Duh, you should know that I’m always mocking you, my Big Bad Omega. I’m also praising you because the Moon Child is badass.”

  Moon hooked his thumbs into his belt loops, catching my eye with a radiant smile. My breath stuttered at the pride that I’d caused by a single compliment, and I craved to make him smile like that again as often as possible.

  “I’m afraid that although we’ve defeated Zetta and the vampires, we’re perhaps too late to stop the war.” Ramiel’s gaze darted between Mischief and me. “I never halted my research into the mage boy’s killing. It vexed me why the witches had set this particular full moon as the night that they’d spark war once again with the wolves, until I discovered—”

  “The Treaty.” Emperor launched himself up, gripping my elbow with an urgency that frightened me. “It’s one hundred years since the Wolf Wars. This is the month that saw our defeat and the full moon that marks it. The quaint ritual to which we were bound is for all wolves who reside within Wolf Kingdom to be caged tonight as penance, even Alphas and royalty.”

  Chills made the hairs on my neck rise. Jesus, why had I had been raised with so little knowledge of my own world? I knew that my uncle had been trying to protect me, but you couldn’t hide from these truths.

  Had my aunt been planning this second war for years, simply waiting for the centennial, my own blossoming into my powers and this night, when the shifters would be at their most vulnerable?

  Everything else had been a pretext.

  And Stella had accused the wolves of being the princes at diplomacy. Yet she was the one who played games to hide the ways that she moved people around the board like pawns.

  Amadeus’ eyes glittered with fear. “My people…my kingdom…”

  Emperor straightened his robes. “Mine too.”

  “Can I throw my hat into the kingdom ring?” Moon strode to join my circle of Charms.

  I glanced between their determined faces. The Oxford covens were directly threatening Wolf Kingdom. My Charms would show that it didn’t matter if they’d been sacrificed to a witch, they were still princes.

  I shuddered at the thought that everything came back to Stella. From the moment that I’d stepped off the plane from America, I’d allowed myself to be led on the path that she’d set out, even when I’d tried to rebel. Trust me, it was hard to fight a witch who both saw fate and wove it. Yet Stella could only catch glimpses of what would come, and I wouldn’t let her guide me anymore.

  I might’ve been twenty-one when I’d arrived in England, but I’d still been a kid in this supernatural world. I’d taken wolf Tributes, become distracted by threats and a murder investigation that had only been set up as a justification for war and to convince me to fight by the House of Seasons’ side. I’d done all that and trained my powers because I’d longed for approval and to become the Wolf Charmer that the covens wanted…that mom would’ve been proud of…okay, that she could’ve been.

  But I wasn’t a kid now. I’d never become mom and I praised the witching heavens for that.

  It was time to step off Stella’s path and forge my own one.

  “Surely the witches would not be so dishonorable as to attack, before they even declare peace at an end?” Ramiel blanched. “If they were to launch an offensive tonight, it’d be little more than…”

  “An ambush.” Emperor was as pale as Ramiel.

  “Murder,” Moon snarled.

  “Stella once told me that you can’t murder a wolf because to kill one is simply justice. I guess that she was setting up her defense for tonight’s justice then.” I stared at the moon, which hung deathly pale in the sky. If Stella attacked tonight, the wolves would be caged like pretty wrapped gifts for her to slaughter or inject with Wolf Tamer and subdue. There was nobody to defend them, except me. “Stella will be in the Justice Chamber.” I glanced around at my guys who were watching me intently. “It’s also a shrine like our witch equivalent of your Goddess Moon. If she hasn’t already gone to kick the wolves’ asses, she’ll be—”

  “Oh, goodie, so we can stroll into the chamber where you’re at your weakest and ensure that our asses take equal measure of the kicking.” Mischief panted. I understood his fear of witches, knowing that they’d once held him prisoner and bound his magic. Ramiel placed a warning hand on his arm, but he shrugged it off. “Why, I ask, are you so keen on playing the martyr? Your shame, I wonder?” Moon growled. “Sorry, am I alone in hating this plan that appears little more than marching into the most powerful coven that has outwitted us at every turn? The one that has once committed genocide on the wolves and now wishes it on them again…and the same to us?”

  “Hey, Sassy Dick, you’re forgetting one thing,” my shadows burst out in a glorious sea that lit up the night, “I’m the Wolf Charmer, you’re a god, and these are angels and princes of the wolf kingdoms. And hey, whoever said I didn’t have a plan…?”

  Mischief’s lips curled into a smile. “My apologies for underestimating you, witch.”

  I dragged my Charms closer, resting my head on the warmth of Emperor’s shoulder. “Let’s hope the asshole witches make the same mistake.”

  Tonight, the wolves would be caged to mark a hundred years since their defeat in the original Wolf Wa
r. Stella intended to break the Treaty and punish the shifters with the same poison that’d hurt Moon. If it didn’t kill and subdue the shifters, it would still ignite a Second Wolf War, unless I could stop it.

  Yet that meant facing Stella and risking my pack. It meant risking everything.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  When I burst through Stella’s wards into the Justice Chamber in the House of Seasons on a wave of crimson, at last I felt like a witch in charge of my own powers and fate. My pack stalked behind me — wolves, Addicts, and mages — who by the witches’ rules should’ve been my enemy.

  But hey, I sucked at following rules.

  Plus, I wasn’t simply a witch, I was the Wolf Charmer. What was the point of being the last in a magical line if you couldn’t screw with tradition?

  Stella had always had a way, however, of making me feel less in control. Even now I stumbled, slipping on the bronze floor because Stella hadn’t even turned around, as if I was no more than a kid storming in to weep about the bully who’d pulled my hair. Of course, she hadn’t believed me when I’d been a real kid and had finally found the courage to tearfully accuse the Blood twins of bullying, and trust me, Lux had done a lot more than pull my hair.

  I glanced around the room that was like the inside of a cauldron with shadowy arches, checking that the platform with raised furry thrones was empty, unlike last time when I’d been judged unworthy by masked witches to be a Charmer and offered poison to drink. Wolf pelts hung from the walls. It was so hot that sweat prickled my skin.

  The seats all around the chamber were hidden in gloom, and just for a moment, I thought that I saw something shift in the shadows. Then I blinked, and it settled. I stepped towards the movement, but at last, Stella waved her hand at me.

  “What sort of manners do they teach in America? If you’d called to tell me that you were dropping by, I could’ve had the Ambassador prepare your favorite strawberries and Champagne.” Still, Stella didn’t look at me.

  Mischief nodded at Ramiel, and then the angels circled around Stella, whilst my Charms and Moth moved closer to my sides.