Her Chosen Wolf: The Were Chronicles, Book 1 Page 2

  Saffa curled her hands into tight fists to curb the urge to touch him. Justice was a man in his prime, and she couldn’t make such an overture and not expect a response from him. She was afraid of another rebuff. He’d always gently but firmly turned her down.

  “Yeah, you did a real job on their rides. What did you learn to drive in, bumper cars?” He handed her the robe she’d given him for Christmas and she slid her arms into the soft sleeves of the cashmere wrap. She was grateful for the shield it provided from Justice’s probing amber eyes. His expression changed subtly. For the first time, it held the yearning of a man looking at the woman he wanted. Their eyes clung, and what she saw in Justice’s gave her hope.

  She took a step forward, but the spell broke when he took a step back.

  “No, I took one of those courses that teach you to get away from potential kidnappers.” She cringed inwardly as soon as the words slipped from her lips. It would be too much to hope he’d let it pass.

  “You live in the city in a protected compound. Why would you need such a skill?” His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

  “Not by choice, and I took the classes because they were the prize from a contest I won,” she bit out, thrusting out her chin defiantly. “I want to come home, Justice. Living in the city is killing me.”

  “You gave me your word, Saffa.”

  “And I kept it. I stayed in the city as you asked. I stayed as long as I could, but it has become unbearable. I’ve enjoyed my time with Rick and his crew, taken advantage of everything the city has to offer, but I want to come home. I’m homesick,” she muttered sulkily. Stiff-backed, she stalked across the room.

  If she could make it into the bathroom, maybe, just maybe, she could put off the inevitable argument. He’d ask her to go back, but she couldn’t, not now.

  “We are going to have this conversation. Hiding in the washroom will only delay it.” He caught her by the arm. “It’s too close to your first breeding cycle for you to run free, Saffa. You’ll have every wolf for miles around dogging your footsteps.”

  Heat flooded her face. He’d picked up the sweet, telling scent of her ever-present arousal. Crap, this was too embarrassing. Saffa didn’t turn to face him.

  “I have time. Maybe it’s time I stopped hiding and do what I should’ve done when my father was murdered.” She swung around to face him, daring him to deny the facts.

  “You have no proof.”

  “Proof! I don’t need any more proof. I smelled his blood on my father’s fur. You all smelled it too and did nothing.” The few last words came out as an accusation.

  “My priority was to get you as far away from here as possible. I owed your father that much.”

  The banked grief rose up in her like a flashover of a fire. She yanked her arm from his hand.

  She could still feel the weight of her father’s limp body in her arms. Hadn’t she wrapped her thin arms around him, childishly hoping she could will life back into him? If she could hug him long and hard enough, his heart would beat again. The memory of his killer’s scent commingling with the sickly odor of death and the approaching stench of decay had burnt itself into her senses.

  Justice sighed and pulled her against his chest, wrapping his arms comfortingly around her. “Bardo was rescued from a trap. His fur was matted with his own blood. None of it was your father’s. He was with trustworthy men when they found your father. He has an airtight alibi.”

  Saffa snorted dismissively and lifted hot, accusing eyes to meet his. “He’s run free all these years. You believe I smelled him on my father, don’t you?”

  He nodded. “Of course I do. I’ve never doubted it for a moment. But to have called the other men liars would’ve impugned the honor of their packs and started a war. We’d just lost your father, and the council was in disarray. It would have been the end of us.”

  “Well the end is nearer than you think. Bardo’s boasted that the council has given him droit de seigneur over me. This will bring him one step closer to the seat of power. I hope when we’re all licking the boots of the Redmavens and their puppets on the council, you won’t have any regret for not acting sooner.” Her sardonic tone darkened Justice’s amber eyes to a deep molten gold.

  His presence filled the room with an unspoken power. Justice was a lethal combination of man and wolf which earned him the admiration of his peers and envy from his detractors. Justice was the heir apparent to the powerful Ambervane pack. He could easily claim the title of supreme alpha if he wanted it. The council feared him for the simple reason people turned to him for guidance and protection. He was already their de facto leader, something he shrugged off. She knew he had no use for titles and accolades.

  “The Ambervanes lick nobody’s boots. Not the council’s and sure as hell not any of those assholes’, the “Redmavens’”. Your father was the voice of reason on the ruling council. He was instrumental in getting the council to police the packs, and it has served us well for several centuries,” he reminded her.

  “Yeah, he did, and he lived to regret it, didn’t he? He made some powerful enemies who didn’t stop until they killed him. Trouble is coming, Justice, and I have proof.”

  “What proof?” He looked at her, puzzled.

  Good, she’d caught his interest. “Oh ho, I can’t believe there is something you’re not aware of. Alana, a friend of mine who works at a women’s shelter, counseled a woman who told her she had a child by one of Redmavens at a den in the city. Alana was perturbed enough to mention it. I got curious and had a long talk with the woman.” A fierce scowl of condemnation spread across his face. Saffa rushed on before he started to berate her about the risk she’d taken by meeting the woman the Redmavens were hunting. “Now why would the Redmavens have their women bear their cubs such a distance from their home den when it’s customary to give birth on pack land? They’re breeding indiscriminately, Justice, to build up their numbers. And it gets worse. They take the cubs as soon as they're weaned and raise them without a mother’s love. You’ll have a feral pack nipping at your heels in no time.”

  “Shit.” Justice released her and began to pace the room. He was a man of honor. The trouble with honorable men was they mistakenly thought others lived by the same code.

  “Shit, indeed. The Redmavens are stacking the deck to ensure Bardo’s the next supreme alpha. To him, I’m a stepping stone on his climb to the title. I don’t believe for one minute the council sanctioned a marriage between Bardo and myself. But I do believe they gave him leave to approach me to consider him as a possible mate.”

  She watched Justice shut his eyes and shake his head to deny what he’d done his damndest to ignore. She’d gone and grown up on him. Saffa bit her lip to control the grin threatening to give her thoughts away.

  “I may not be able to bring my father’s murderer to justice, but I’ll do everything I can to deny Bardo what he wants most, the power and the esteem of his peers. He craves his father’s approval and securing the title might acquire it for him.”

  “Is that the psychobabble they’re teaching you at the fancy school you attend?” he teased, brushing her hair back from her face.

  Saffa scoffed as he ribbed her about the degree she pursued. “I don’t need a degree in psychology to recognize he’s a sick puppy.”

  “Yes, he needs putting down. He’s crossed the line coming after you in such a hostile manner.” The deadly intent in his voice sent a shiver down Saffa’s back. It wasn’t one of fear. It was purely sexual. Every repressed need in her unfurled and pulsed vibrantly to life.

  “He had several betas from other packs running with him today. Bardo is shoring up his position. I can’t sit back and let the council take the decision out of my hands. Too many of our people might be swayed by the fact I’m to be his mate. I’m not taking any chances. Maxime will rule through Bardo, weeding out the men who won’t kowtow to him. Their divisiveness would shatter the stability our society has achieved.”

  To ensure the stability of all the clans, Sa
ffa knew what she had to do. It was time to choose her mate. What she was about to attempt was the biggest gamble she’d ever take. If Justice didn’t respond the way she hoped, everything would be lost. Her life would be one of duty rather than one of love with the man standing beside her.

  It was time to set her plans in motion. “I intend to choose a man of my own before my breeding cycle becomes full-blown. It should keep the council at bay and throw a spanner into Bardo’s political ambitions.”

  Justice froze. “Do you have someone in particular in mind?”

  “I figured I’d choose someone from the Ambervane or the Lunedare packs. Either pack is large enough to stand alone against the Redmavens. I refuse to pass on my multimorph legacy to Bardo’s bloodline. It would make them more powerful than they are already.”

  One child in every generation was born a true multimorph. Traditionally, her mate would be an alpha from one of the were-packs chosen with a lot of input from the council. Unfortunately, some members used their power as a bargaining chip, maneuvering behind the scene to skew the choice to benefit their own packs.

  It was still widely believed good fortune would follow the multimorph’s chosen mate. The women in the blessed pack seemed more fertile. After all, a clan’s strength and wealth was tied to the size of its family. Her grandmother had dismissed it as a fallacy. She believed the men were all honorable, conscientious leaders of their people. As far as she was concerned prosperity and good fortune naturally followed.

  But one thing held true: her bloodline carried the gift of longevity. The average wolf lived for about three hundred years. Any pack that held a multimorph in its ancestral line had a life expectancy four times the norm. Her mother had done the unthinkable and chosen a beta wolf, rejecting the suit of the Redmavens’ alpha. At Saffa’s birth, Maxime Redmaven had approached her father to broker a marriage between their two children. Still grieving for his wife who’d died in childbirth, her father had said when the time came, Saffa would choose her mate as she saw fit.

  Problem was no one in Bardo’s pack had ever been chosen by a multimorph. Internal strife and power struggles had helped to weaken the Redmavens. A steady hand was needed at the helm. Unfortunately, each successor wanted to make his own mark and changed polices within his pack that didn’t necessarily benefit his family.

  They mistakenly thought they were long overdue for lady luck to smile on them. Since there wasn’t a chance in hell Saffa would choose the man she believed had killed her father, the Redmavens thought they’d force their suit by going through the council.

  “For someone who’d always professed to have no interest in politics, you seem to have a good grasp of the situation. What kind of man fits your criteria for a mate?” The casual indifference in his question got her back up.

  God, he was blind. Did he still see her as a cub to be protected?

  Well, it was time to rid him of the idea she wasn’t ready to be mated. “I’ll ahummm…test out a few wolves from either pack before I make my final decision.” She grinned at his shocked expression.

  “You didn’t think I was still a virgin, did you?” She sauntered slowly away from him. The unbreakable grip in the crook of her arm pulled her to a stop.

  “Don’t push me, Saffa. Every time I came to check you over the last couple of years you’ve been trying to goad me into an act you weren’t ready for. Don’t think for one moment I wasn’t aware of you. My control is not without its limits.” His voice was barely above whisper, full of a warning any sensible person would have heeded. But she pressed on.

  “Can I push you, Justice? After all, you were the one who said my time is near. And since no tame city wolf has engaged my senses fully I’ve come home to find my man. I must choose a mate.” She leaned against him. It was hard to put the depth of her feelings into words when she carried the anguished yearning with her at all times.

  “I’m almost in heat. It’s like being in a constant state of arousal. My body aches. My nipples are hard and tight. The flesh of my core is full and throbs painfully to the beat of my heart. Even when I’m caught in the throes of fulfillment, I’m left wanting. Have you any idea what it’s like to be on the cusp of something wonderful, only to have it flutter out of your grasp like a butterfly? It’s maddening.”

  A frenzied looked of hunger flared in his eyes. “Wanting? You have no concept of what true wanting is.” He wrapped his hand around the curve of her head and fastened his mouth on hers. Savage need mingled with an exploratory tenderness in his kiss.

  His tongue speared into her mouth, hot and demanding, yet gave her exactly what she longed for, a sip of what he was. Hers. Satisfaction was finally hers to savor.

  Saffa wound her arms around his shoulders. She simply had to. Her knees had turned into mush. Her head spun.

  Their kiss deepened and he molded her body against his. Tongues sparring, they learned the nuances of what each other liked. It was like tasting sex. It gave her a hint of what it would be like to be loved by him, like riding the rapids. Wild and exhilarating.

  He aroused and sated her appetites all at once. The more he gave, the more she wanted. He slanted his mouth across hers to draw the tip of her tongue into his mouth. Justice caught it and suckled on the tidbit of flesh voraciously, nibbling at her, fueling their need.

  Then he pushed her away from him violently. Saffa stumbled back to look up at him in confusion. She licked her lips. The taste of him lingered on her tongue. Why had he stopped? He wanted her. She knew he did.

  His harsh pants echoed through the room. “I’m not an easy man, Saffa.” He slid his fingers roughly through the ebony strands of his hair, clearly agitated. “As a lover I won’t be as indulgent as the big brother I’ve tried to be to you. I’ll be demanding and ravenous. It might be better for you if we forgot this ever happened, and you choose a more easy-going mate.”

  Saffa chuckled. He was giving her an out. But she’d tasted his hunger for her, and she relished it.

  “If it’s what you want, I’ll try. But can you forget?” She chose her words carefully. Using the evocative syntax of their ancestors because they came from the core of her, she pulled out the words which would have the most effect. “In the dark of the night when the howls of my pleasure are carried on the wind, will you feel no regret? When I push the firstborn son of another man from my womb, will you feel no sorrow? I could have been the mate of your heart, yet you’d stand back and allow me to be merely another man’s wife?”

  She walked away from him. He had more than enough to think about. She needed some distance from him. If she’d ached for him before, she was in agony now. If this need of hers wasn’t appeased soon, she’d go stark raving mad.

  ***

  God damn it to hell, her words sliced him to the core. They were highly sexual beings. He’d never had a problem with his lovers having multiple partners, but the thought of Saffa writhing in pleasure under another man ate at him.

  Justice reached for his cell and punched one of the three numbers programmed into it.

  “Yeah, Just, what can I do for you, my brother?”

  Justice pictured Rick sitting before his bank of computers, rolling back and forth between monitors like a manic keyboardist.

  “Your balls are in the palm of my hand and I’m about to squeeze them, hard. Why the hell did you let Saffa travel alone to the mountains?” Justice listened to the swift agitated tapping of a keyboard.

  “You’re full of shit. I have her right here in her room working on her thesis,” Rick shot back.

  “Yeah, well, I have here with me in all her naked glory, bruised and battered by the Redmavens.” Frantic tapping reached across the airwaves. Then a telling silence descended.

  “What the fu—”

  “Yeah, yeah. Save it for later. I keep telling you technology isn’t foolproof. Use your senses. The Redmavens have a breeding den somewhere in your backyard.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? No alpha would allow the pack’s young to be
whelped away from their home den.”

  “Usually, but remember who we’re dealing with.” Justice sighed and rubbed the tense muscles in his neck.

  “Does the council know about this?”

  “No, and they aren’t going to. I want the den shut down before they catch wind of it. We don’t have time for them to debate the matter. It’d give Maxime the time and opportunity to raze the building and hide the evidence. I want the blueprints of the building, schematics of the ventilation system and sewers.”

  “We’re going hunting.” The anticipation in Rick’s voice made Justice grin. Maybe he wasn’t a lost cause after all.

  “Let Gretchen know her granddaughter is here with me.”

  “Why don’t you call her?”

  “I don’t have her number in my phone.”

  “Christ, Just. Having only three numbers programmed into your phone is unnatural.” Rick’s snort of disgust widened Justice’s smile.

  “What’s unnatural is being able to contact anybody twenty-four-seven,” he drawled slowly, knowing what was coming next.

  “That’s the point I’m trying to make. If someone has an emergency, it’s a bitch to get a hold of you,” Rick groused. “They call me and I have to waste time tracking you down.”

  “Works for me.” Justice disconnected, cutting off Rick’s long string of profanity.

  A feral pack under Maxime’s control could not be allowed. The niggling trickle of fear turned into a flood of worry.

  Chapter Three

  Justice stared at the bathroom door for one gut-wrenching moment. Resting his forehead on the cool wood, he closed his eyes. His body tense, he wrapped his hand tightly around the doorknob, but he didn’t twist it. He didn’t dare.

  Justice was torn by his need but was held back by his conscience. She was young and fertile. She’d gift her mate with healthy cubs.

  He’d found it troubling when he’d first noticed the baby fat had melted from her body to leave a long-legged, red-haired beauty. He shouldn’t have noticed the full, mouth-watering curves on her sleekly muscled body.