by Gwen Knight
I held my ground, refusing to show any weakness.
The moment her power bore down on me, I staggered.
Sweet mother of Mercury, she was strong.
Though I fought to remain standing, the power swept my legs out from beneath me. Something dark closed around my throat, choking the very air out of me. I wheezed and shook my head. Something wasn’t right. This didn’t feel anything like when I’d eaten the chocolates. This felt dark. Black magic. Bitch was trying to kill me.
“Vesper, no!” Silas shouted.
I’d never seen Mathis move so fast in my entire life. He shot past Silas and me, his hand closing around the witch’s throat and heaving her in the air. Without warning, he snapped her neck, then threw her clear across the room, the walls shuddering when her body connected.
The invisible hand around my throat vanished. I sucked in a choking breath and stumbled backward.
“Jesus,” Silas breathed. “Guess I should have expected that.”
Mathis spun around and glared at Silas. “Is this how you run your coven?”
“Don’t start with me,” Silas snarled.
Growling under his breath, Mathis crossed back toward me and kneeled down, his fingers smoothing back my fur. “You all right?”
My head bobbed, though a breathy whimper was the only response I could give. Damn. That witch’s grip had been tight.
Rising to his feet, Mathis turned back to Silas. “Fix this. Now. Or so help me, your body will be laying next to your witch’s.”
Silas shot Mathis an enraged glance, but finally nodded and approached me.
This time, I felt little more than a tingle sweep through my body. No choking hand, no darkness, no death. This time when the change came over me, it was gentle and quick. The sound of my snapping bones hardly affected me.
I rose on shaky legs, barely aware of Mathis draping his coat around me. Then I opened my eyes and met his gaze. So green, and so familiar.
A slow smile spread across my face. Before either of us could speak, I leapt into his arms and brought our mouths together in a heated clash.
His chest rumbled against mine, his hands soft beneath the cover of his jacket as he kissed the ever-loving hell out of me.
I drew back, grinning from ear-to-ear. “I remember you.”
Relief danced across his face. He brought our brows together, then kissed the tip of my nose. “Thank God.”
“Or, you know, thank me,” Silas muttered. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, apparently I have some arrangements to make and a family to inform.”
I slid down Mathis’s length, then glanced at Vesper’s mangled body. He’d done a number on her. Guess that was one favor I’d never owe her. Would her death affect relations between the pack and the coven, though? Things were already so precarious.
“A justifiable death,” Silas said.
Could he still read my thoughts? Like he had when I was in wolf form?
He turned and winked at me, silently answering my question. Clearing my throat, I forced myself to imagine dancing puppies and kittens in tutus.
Silas burst out laughing. “I like you.”
Mathis’s arms tightened around me, his jaw tight as he glared at Silas.
“Oh, calm down, wolf. I didn’t mean like that. You’re all too furry for my liking. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Without another word, he drew a cellphone out of his pocket and swept out of the shop.
Mathis wrapped me in his arms and pressed a kiss atop my head. “Come on.”
“Where we going?”
“Home.”
I liked the sound of that.
9
A pair of strong arms wrapped around my waist. “Nervous?”
“I might pee myself,” I snickered. My first night running with the pack. What if I couldn’t shift? What if I wasn’t fast enough? What if I ran into that damn elk again?
And the real question running through my mind…
What if I still wasn’t good enough for them?
“You’ll do great,” Mathis assured me. He drew me into his chest and buried his nose in the crook of my neck. “And once we’re done running, we’re coming right back here.”
Here being the bedroom of course. The one place we’d barely left the entire week. Not that I was complaining.
I chuckled under my breath and sank into him, reveling in the feel of him surrounding me. “I told my parents I would go to their place after. They haven’t seen me since our first run together. They want an explanation.”
“The entire pack does. Thankfully, Piper hasn’t said a word.”
I nodded, then walked toward the dresser and checked my phone. As expected, my mother had sent a message, reminding me about tonight. Mathis had decided it best not to tell anyone about the spell. He feared others would attempt similar routes for anything they wanted fixed in their lives. Though I couldn’t find it in me to regret what I’d done, he was right. The last thing we needed was to push our limits with the coven. The hostility had worsened this week. Silas had informed them of Vesper’s death, but not how or why. He’d promised us Austin and Lydia’s silence on the matter as well.
Officially, the story was that I’d finally learned to shift. And that Mathis had been mentoring me. I snorted under my breath. He’d been mentoring me all right, but not in the ways of the wolf. Tonight, he intended to feed that story to the pack. I didn’t like the idea of lying to them, but it seemed best.
My parents, on the other hand, needed to know the truth. Piper had told them too much in the beginning. A family secret, of sorts. But one I was confident we would all keep.
“There is something I’ve been meaning to ask you. And maybe now is best before the run.”
I hummed a noncommittal response.
“But you need to turn around and look at me,” he teased.
Ah, effort. With a small smile, I did as he asked, then gasped.
He knelt in the middle of the room, a small box resting in the palm of his hand. “In all the commotion, we never really had the chance to do things right.”
Do things right.
“The first time I truly saw you, you were fourteen. All gangly and awkward.”
I laughed under my breath, tears pricking at my eyes.
“But I saw you. It never mattered to me you couldn’t shift. Of course, things weren’t that simple for us. I was eleven years older than you. Noticing a fourteen-year-old…well, I was lucky your father didn’t take me out back and shoot me. I told myself to look elsewhere.
“I noticed you again at seventeen. Fresh out of high school, your whole life laid out in front of you. And you chose to stay. I remember wondering why. Such a huge world out there, and you chose the pack. I don’t know if you recall, but our eyes met that day.”
“I remember,” I whispered. “You smiled at me even though Conrad was barking your name.”
“From then on, I noticed you everywhere. But seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, they all felt too young. Thing is, you’re not a teenager anymore.”
“No, I’m not.”
“If you hadn’t gone to that witch, we would have ended up here. I know it without a doubt. You were all I ever saw. You’re all I ever want to see. Now until forever.”
I wiped a tear from my eye. If he kept this up, I’d be bawling by the time we met with the pack.
“You’re already my mate. We’ll finalize it with the pack tonight. But I want something more. I want everything. The whole package. I want the world to know you as my wife.”
“Mathis…” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Juniper Reed sounds so horrible!”
He burst out laughing. “Is that your only reservation? Because you can keep your own name. So long as I get to keep you.”
I sank to my knees in front of him and cupped his cheeks. “You know it’s a yes, you silly man.”
With a pleased growl, Mathis wound his arms around me and pulled me flat him. “Damn straight it’s a yes.”
His mouth fou
nd mine as he lowered me down onto the floor.
“Mathis!” I squealed. “We have to meet with the pack! We can’t be late for our own mating ceremony.”
“I have a different ceremony in mind,” he chuckled, his lips finding their way to my throat. “Besides, I’m the alpha. They can bloody well wait.”
His mouth trailed lower until my entire world lit up.
Suddenly, it didn’t matter if the pack ever thought me good enough. Mathis did. And that was all I needed.
Thank you so much for reading this book. I hope you enjoyed it.
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If you missed Rumor and Knox’s story, keep reading for a sneak peek of Death by Mistletoe available everywhere!
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Howling Under The Mistletoe
A Howls Romance: Howlsday Book 1
Another day, another brutally murdered corpse.
Must be Wednesday.
Sighing, I dragged my hand through my hair and stared down at the broken shell of what had once been my fellow pack mate. Seeing her in this state should have crushed me. Sure, I felt something…mostly regret this had happened. But after so many deaths in such a short time period, those emotions hardly affected me anymore.
How sad was that?
I pulled out my phone and swiped a finger across the screen. A quick click and a few taps later, and her image was zipping across the network to my father’s phone with the caption victim number six. That’s right. Six dead werewolves in under a month.
See why I was numb?
Granted, I hadn’t known all the victims. In the North Basin region alone, there were four werewolf packs. Of the six casualties, two were ours. The one at my feet was Brittany Lewis—fifth-highest ranking wolf in our pack, out of a robust eighty-three members. I was the fourth-highest, right beneath my dear old mother, my father’s beta, and my father—the Grand Poobah, himself.
Still, Brittany had been fifth-highest. I could do the math, so I knew what that meant. Whoever had taken her out had gumption enough to take down a big bad werewolf. And she hadn’t gone easy from the looks of it. Overturned lamps, a shredded duvet—hell, the place was littered with tiny little goose feathers from a chewed up pillow tossed into the corner. I hadn’t quite figured out that one yet.
Not to mention, the battered corpse of a male from a different pack than mine.
I hadn’t forgotten him. But since he wasn’t from my pack, he wasn’t my concern. Or at least, he wasn’t my primary concern. Though, thinking about it, what the hell was Ditton Clark doing here? Intermingling wasn’t uncommon, but…they were both nude. Like full on au natural. I was seeing bits of Ditton I’d never hoped to lay eyes on. Including some insides.
Shuddering, I turned back to Brittany, then crouched next to her. I couldn’t touch her, so said the police, and according to my father, I had to obey that little decree. Something about playing by human rules, blah, blah, blah… Apparently, we were supposed to feel grateful they’d invited us to the murder scene.
Sure.
I was feeling real grateful right about now.
Her body was littered with claw marks, her skin stained crimson. Not to mention the massive chunk missing from her throat, complimentary a sharp set of fangs.
“Ms. Hayes?”
I glanced up at the sound of my name and studied the face of the cop hovering nearby. He’d introduced himself when I’d first entered, but, honestly, I’d long since forgotten it.
“I’m…ah…supposed to ask if there’s anything you need?”
Holding his gaze, I pointed down at Brittany. “These claw marks. Did you guys note them?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, I don’t know. The coroner would have done that.”
The coroner. Right. Some middle-aged man who had waddled in here only to declare her dead. No shit, Sherlock. What had given it away?
“I’m going to smell her now,” I informed the officer. “Don’t freak out, all right?”
“You’re gonna…what?”
“Smell her.” I lifted a brow. “You know, like put my nose against her and sniff?”
My hand to God, he blanched. I bit back a grin. Sometimes, you had to stop and appreciate the little things. Like completely freaking out the poor, disadvantaged humans.
Without waiting, I dropped down onto all fours and positioned my head near Brittany’s. Damn. The woman reeked of Ditton. Like reeked. Every single inch of her. And not from fighting. This was softer than that. Lust, definitely.
I canted my head and stared at Ditton. Even in death, he reached out to her, their fingers touching.
What the hell had happened here?
I pushed back onto my haunches and studied the room. Fractured headboard, broken lamp, cracked walls…all indicative of an intense fight. Or a passionate night between the sheets. Some of us were far from gentle. And in the heat of the moment…what were walls and bedframes compared to a horny werewolf?
The past month, we’d approached these deaths as inner pack conflicts. Members gone rogue. Maybe it was something more than that. From the smell of the two of them, this had nothing to do with brawling and everything to do with fucking. A Romeo and Juliet situation?
Except, Brittany had been promised to another.
Messy.
“Don’t you have people to do this sort of thing for you?” a deep voice rumbled behind me.
Shit. I knew that voice. Sighing, I surged to my feet and turned toward one Evan Knox, brother of the Alpha of the Silver Summit Pack, our closest—but greatly disliked—neighbors. Course, Knox’s and my relationship went a little deeper than that. No, not that way. This wolf was the tick in my fur. Always annoying the hell out of me. It’d been a few months since I’d last seen him, but I highly doubted his attitude had improved any. That wasn’t Knox’s style. “What are you doing here, Knox?”
“Could ask you the same thing, Princess.”
My jaw tightened. In all the years I’d known Knox, he’d only ever referred to me by that stupid moniker, no matter how many times I’d threatened to cave in his skull if he kept it up. I’d lost count ’round thirty. Guess he didn’t take my threats seriously. Yes, being the alpha’s daughter awarded me certain luxuries and comforts, but it hardly made me a princess. As the brother of another alpha, one would assume he understood that. Then again, I’d always believed there were a couple screws loose in his head.
I stared up at him. Yup, up. Bastard stood at least a foot taller than me. And didn’t he just love it. For years, I’d been working on a theory that he enjoyed looming over my pitiful five foot three. As though he found pure enjoyment in staring down his nose at me. I had to give it to him, though. He was pure strength and power, not unlike his brother. Their parents had given them the sort of genes that made me hate them. Not that I didn’t have other reasons.
That was where the brother’s similarities ended, though. At first glance, one would never assume they were related. Whereas Eli, the alpha of the Silver Summit Pack, was a blond god with piercing green eyes, Knox was his darker shadow. A lesson in duality, I suspected. Short, dark hair and smoky, black eyes. Those eyes that had left me arrested more than once. All expressive and curious. Not that I’d ever admit that aloud. I’d rather chew on my own tail then own up to that.
“Well, don’t you?”
“Don’t I, what?”
He rolled his eyes and gestured toward the crime scene. “Have people who do this sort of thing for you? Shouldn’t you be locked up in your marble tower, swathed in bubble wrap?”
“Go hump a leg,” I retorted.
“I would, but it seems like Ditton here beat me to the punch.”
“He’s not your pack. So, why are you here?”
A crooked smile tugged at his lips. “Likely the same thing you’re doing here, Princess.”
I bit back a retort. The more I fought him, the more he’d annoy me. I knew his stupid
little games—had been playing them since we were six—and I refused to resort to his level. “Brittany is my pack mate.”
“Thanks for the update.”
“So, I have every reason to be here. Silver Summit doesn’t.”
A chuckle rose from his throat. “Please.”
I ground my back molars together. And this right here was a prime example as to why my pack disliked his. While Knox was an unconscionable prick, his brother was a brute. All brawn, no brain. It’d been the cause of many issues between the two packs.
“What have you figured out?”
“Nothing you need to know,” I retorted.
“Your pack isn’t the only one attempting to track down the source of these deaths,” Knox stated, his hands clasped behind his back as he walked the perimeter of the crime scene.
I blinked. Could it be? Had he actually put a full sentence together? And one that made sense? Alert the authorities. Still. One coherent statement was hardly enough to convince me to play ball. “Go do your own investigation then.”
Knox glanced over his shoulder and tsked me. “Now, now, Princess. We wouldn’t want it said you were being difficult, would we? What would Daddy Dearest say if he found out?”
I lifted my chin and glared. “Bite me.”
“Don’t tempt me, little girl,” he growled, clicking his teeth together menacingly.
“Just stay out of my way.” I strode over to Ditton and crouched down. The sooner I concluded this investigation, the sooner I could leave Evan Knox in the dust.
I studied Ditton’s length, noting the similar claw marks on him as Brittany. Sadly, the worst of them seemed focused on his dangly bits. Even I winced as I snapped another picture.
“Sorry,” I muttered under my breath as I dropped onto my stomach and repositioned my phone.
