Her Chosen Wolf: The Were Chronicles, Book 1 Page 3

  She’d always looked up at him trustingly, with those huge gray eyes, seeking his approval. It all changed in her late teens. The sexual curiosity he saw in those eyes had taken him aback. He recognized the desire burning in them, something that he never acknowledged.

  The simple fact of the matter was he reveled in his solitude. In temperament, they were opposites. He was a loner by nature and found her gregariousness perplexing. If he didn’t have a conversation for an entire day, it suited him just fine.

  The scent of her arousal was a two-lashed whip. His body’s reflexive response rode him hard. Her pheromones would keep him in a state of horniness for days. And he knew he wasn’t the only male who could smell it. Justice’s temper deteriorated into a quick and uncertain simmer on the verge of boiling over at the thought of other shifters savoring the bouquet of her.

  The wolf in him stirred. Justice’s primal need for Saffa diffused throughout his psyche and silently bayed his mating call.

  Crap.

  He listened to the heavy spray of the water spewing from the shower heads and an unwanted picture filtered into his mind. Saffa wet and naked.

  He didn’t need this. It was hard enough to stay away from her as it was.

  The image of the water trickling down her soft curves persisted and took on a life of its own. Fat droplets would cling to her nipples, slither down the sweet curve of her belly to become caught in the fiery thatch of hair between her thighs.

  A part of him wanted to enter the small intimate room and show her what it meant to be his lover.

  He wasn’t one of those city-bred boys she romped with. Yes, he was well aware she wasn’t a virgin. Hell, hadn’t he spent nights torturing himself with the knowledge she was with another man?

  He bit back the feral growl surging up within him and started to turn the knob in his hand, but squashed the compulsion before he went any further and moved away from the door.

  Dragging open one of the double-paned French doors, he stepped onto the wide, snow-strewn deck. Inhaling deeply, he hoped the frigid air would cool the inferno burning inside him.

  Cold reason reared its head and clarity of thought returned. She needed a mate to counter Bardo’s claim on her. The Redmavens would do every underhanded thing they could do to secure her for their bloodline. There was only one other man who could keep her safe, Drew Lunedare. His pack was large enough to stave off any fighting pack Maxime Redmaven might be able to muster.

  Shit, this was harder than he thought it would be. He’d have to let her go to save her.

  The wolf in him wouldn’t think twice about claiming her for his mate. To take what was needed was ingrained in a wolf, with no thought of the cost.

  Unfortunately, Justice the man thought too much of the consequences. Saffa needed more from him than he could ever give her, and he’d be damned if he admitted his private shame to her.

  Justice, the proud warrior of his clan, was sterile. Blood and sperm samples had been collected from hundreds of weres to do a study on pack longevity. Fortunately for him, his aunt had been the geneticist. She’d kept his secret.

  It would be criminal to let the source of his race’s longevity die with Saffa. She deserved to be a mother. He wouldn’t cheat her or the clans out of what she could contribute. Saffa would come to resent him eventually.

  A war was in the offing. Maxime Redmaven was hell-bent on having the final say in what direction the packs would take over the next few centuries.

  Justice sighed heavily. For the first time in centuries, they were without a supreme alpha. Since they had been without one for the past year, the packs had allowed all major decisions to be made by the council. It was a cumbersome method of rule that was becoming more and more ineffective and easily manipulated. He’d resisted the subtle pressure his uncle Galen and Hawkin, his father and the Ambervanes’ alpha, had been applying to get him to assume the role of the supreme alpha. It would be a feather in his father’s cap if the were who led all the packs was from his blood clan and more importantly his own successor. If he did as Galen and Hawkin wanted, Justice would be able to override any decisions the council made.

  If Justice couldn’t protect Saffa as his mate, he’d protect her from a distance.

  Time to let his father know the ambitions he had for his firstborn son were about to be realized. He needed the old man’s help to sway the council.

  Shit. He winced as he thought of the meddling he’d have to put up with.

  He took the despised device from his back pocket to make the call and the damned thing chirped tauntingly in his hand. Justice’s brows flew up when he recognized the number.

  He flipped it open. “Dad, what’s happened?”

  “Hello, son. I expected to hear from you sooner, I hear you have company.” Hawkin’s too-casual tone made Justice grit his teeth.

  Damn Rick. “I was about to call you.”

  “Sure you were. As the alpha of the Ambervane pack, I expect to be informed of any incursions into our territory.” Recognizing the reprimand was feigned, Justice snorted.

  “What incursion? You consider Saffa’s arrival an incursion?” he asked patiently. Eventually his father would wind his way around to the topic he was actually interested in.

  “A little distracted, aren’t you, son? A group of Redmavens crossed our common boundary and traveled several miles into our territory. But nothing to worry about. We paddled their backsides and sent them scurrying back to their dens.” Hawkin’s soft guffaw tugged a reluctant grin from Justice. “It wasn’t much of a workout, but then again, I’m not as young as I used to be. If my firstborn would take himself a mate, I could retire and take my wife on the Alaskan cruise she wants. A good son would do his duty.”

  “It’s because I’m a good son I suffer cold, lonely nights without the loving comfort of a mate. My sacrifice is saving you from weeks of being trapped on a floating can. All those city folk and no avenue of escape,” he pointed out dryly, eliciting a grunt from his father.

  “Something to think about, but a man needs grandchildren. Saffa would whelp some fine cubs,” his father speculated with a studied casualness.

  “I have no doubt she would, but we have a larger problem to address before you need to worry about your future grandchildren.” Taking the plunge, he related what he’d learned from Saffa.

  “Hell, this is bad.”

  His father’s deep sigh weighed heavily on him. Hawkin Ambervane was a hundred and sixty-eight years old. If they’d stuck to the old ways, he’d have been challenged for leadership of their family pack by now. But Hawkin was a good leader and Justice enjoyed his role as his father’s troubleshooter. Besides, if the old man kicked the bucket, who’d he have to spar with verbally?

  “I seek to be the supreme alpha.”

  His father’s indrawn breath made him grin. Once the words were uttered there was no going back. A covenant was forged which couldn’t be broken or forsaken.

  “Are you sure, son?” There was pride and concern in the words amidst Hawkin’s failed attempt to keep his glee suppressed.

  His father was probably doing a merry jig, but he wouldn’t let on because it might screw up his bad-ass rep.

  “Yes, I’m sure,” Justice confirmed and waited for what was coming next. He needed to put an end to Hawkin’s expectation of killing two birds with one stone. To see his son claim the seat of power, thus securing the packs for generations, and to have him mated in one fell swoop.

  “When’s the wedding?” Hawkin said it as if it was done deal.

  “There will be no wedding. What does me agreeing to be the supreme alpha have to do with marrying Saffa?” Justice said with a conviction he hoped would stop this line of conversation from going any further.

  His luck didn’t hold.

  “Why the hell not? You’ve been sniffing around each other long enough. It would make the appointment much easier. A man in your position needs a wife. There have been grumbles ever since her mother broke tradition and chose Garron
. If you hadn’t placed yourself between her and the Redmavens, she’d have been force-mated to that mangy mongrel Bardo by now. She’d be willing to accept you as her mate, I’m sure of it.”

  He didn’t want to discuss Saffa with anyone. “Since when have I ever done things the easy way?”

  “That’s the God’s honest truth,” his father groused. “I’ll put out feelers and start the ball rolling. The council can be managed.”

  “Yeah, but by whom? Saffa said they’ve given Bardo permission to take her as his mate.”

  “Shit, how did such an egregious act slip by us? It takes eight members out of the twelve to pass a mandate. I wonder which two they managed to persuade,” Hawkin ruminated.

  “Doesn’t matter. He’s not touching her.”

  “Well, if it’s how you feel, we’ll make sure it doesn’t happen.” The innocent tone sounded a little absurd in the deep bass tinged with smirky satisfaction.

  “Don’t go there, Dad.”

  “Hell boy, I remember what it means to be young. And proximity is a bitch. Of all my offspring, you’re the one who carries his wolf closest to the surface. The beast will come knocking at the door, and you’ve got to answer. You’ll take her. It will be a done deal.”

  “Then send up a four to escort Saffa to her grandmother’s.”

  “Can’t. Every able-bodied male is out on patrol. I don’t have a four to spare. She’ll have to stay the night.” The satisfaction his father’s voice made Justice gnash his teeth.

  “Oh, by the way, you can expect an unwelcome visitor sometime tonight. He broke off from the rest of his cohorts. I was interested to see what he was up to.” The call ended on his father’s knowing chuckle.

  His nostrils flared when a hint of musk floated up to him. A stranger trespassing on his marked domain. No, not a stranger, but not a friend either. The old man was right on the money. His ears pricked up and separated the sounds of a winter forest from the footfalls of a lone man approaching his house.

  “You have a pair of big brass ones don’t you, Redmaven?” Justice stepped closer to the railing to look down into the expressionless face of the man who’d attacked Saffa. He leapt over the barrier and landed on his feet in front of Bardo. He plowed his fist into the man’s stomach, sending him to his knees.

  “That’s for frightening Saffa.” He wanted to tear out Bardo’s jugular. Justice hauled Bardo up by the neck.

  “I came alone. I’m allowed to approach your domicile for a confab,” Bardo choked out. His fingers clawed at Justice’s hand tightening around his throat.

  Justice shoved him back then waited until the mutt got over his coughing fit.

  “What do you want, besides the obvious?”

  “I have been given permission to court the multimorph,” Bardo strangled out on a snarl, his eyes glittering balefully.

  “Your methods are primitive. Where did you learn to woo a woman, in a cave? Hit a woman over the head, or in this case with your ride, and drag her by the hair back to your den.”

  “I asked her politely to join me for a drink at Shiney’s. It’s neutral territory. She gave me the finger and told me to kiss her ass before heading up the mountain.” Bardo spat out the words, obviously still pissed at her rejection.

  Shiney’s would’ve been packed as usual, and she’d spurned Bardo’s suit loudly and publicly. Pour oil on the fire, why don’t you Saffa?

  “What the hell did you expect?” Justice countered.

  Bardo’s face turned sulky and mutinous. “I’ve as much right to seek her as my mate as any other shifter. More so now since I have the council’s blessing.”

  “Fuck the council’s blessing. You don’t have a chance in hell with Saffa. I suppose you might have stood a slim chance if you hadn’t killed her father and weren’t such an asshole.”

  A smile drifted across Bardo’s face, monstrous and devoid of any remorse. “Says who?”

  God, he was a cocky son of a bitch. “I do.”

  “Where’s your proof?”

  Justice tapped his nose.

  “If you’re so goddamned sure, why didn’t you take it out of my hide then?” The taunt was pure bravado.

  “Maybe…I was biding my time.” He sent Bardo a mirthless smile of his own, cold, full of promised retribution.

  Justice saw uncertainty creep into Bardo’s eyes. The stink of his fear oozed from him. He was, after all, deep into Ambervane territory, and they hadn’t always abided by the tenets laid down by the council. What was to stop Justice from living up to his name?

  “Accusing you would’ve left Saffa vulnerable. It was what you’d hoped for, wasn’t it? A war between the packs, the battles would weaken the fighting forces of the clans. Very clever, but not clever enough. I didn’t even nibble at the bait you laid down for me. You killed Garron thinking I’d come at you while only a few Ambervanes were there when we found him. Since we were outnumbered it would’ve been easy to finish me off too. It must have been frustrating when I chose to see to her safety rather than seek revenge for Garron’s murder.” Justice took a step toward him. “I’m only going to say this once. Come within smelling distance of her again, and I’ll put you down.”

  “Her aroma is heady, isn’t it? It’s enough to make a man come in his pants. I’ll have her and more. Don’t stand in my way, Ambervane.” Bardo shifted, his body poised for flight.

  “Listen to me, you puppy. Your daddy might’ve raised you with an overweening sense of entitlement, but you can’t have her. We can settle it right here, right now. I’m game.”

  “Fuck you, Ambervane. The council has handed her to me on a platter, and there is not a damned thing you can do about it.”

  Goaded beyond endurance, Justice let his core animal loose. His shoulders broadened and teeth lengthened. The power of the beast within surged through him, shedding his humanity like a loose cloak.

  Justice transformed into a midnight black wolf. Huge and menacing, he emanated unbridled power in his anger. He howled at the moon, issuing his challenge.

  Picking up the gauntlet, Bardo dropped to all fours. His transfiguration was as swift, his animal answering the call to battle.

  They went at each other, teeth bared and claws extended, deadly in their purpose. Justice and his opponent fought viciously, biting and raking into each other’s flesh. Justice’s plan was to kill Bardo. He was sure Bardo had the same intention. Their snarls echoed through the night.

  The swipes Bardo took at him didn’t register. The blood lust driving him made the rules he lived by inconsequential. He’d taste the blood of his enemy tonight.

  The idiot fought with no skill. Bardo’s cockiness made him impulsive and careless. He kept aiming for Justice’s eyes, which was a coward’s trick. It also left Bardo’s most vulnerable spot open.

  Sinking low to the ground, Justice reared under him, clamped his teeth into the front of Bardo’s throat and twisted him to the ground. With the right amount of pressure at the right angle, he could snap his neck.

  “Stop this. It’s not done. He came alone in human form.” The words sliced through the night.

  Standing above them on the deck outside his bedroom, her platinum hair billowing in the wind, stood Gretchen, Saffa’s grandmother.

  Caught in the bloodlust, Justice held on.

  “Heed my words or face banishment,” Gretchen snapped impatiently.

  From the tree line wolves from several packs trotted toward them Justice’s pack brothers raced to his side to spread out beside him.

  Hell, he saw his father’s fine hand in this unforeseen turn of events. The council wouldn’t be far behind.

  Growling, he shook Bardo, whose pained mewl acknowledged defeat, deeding Justice victory. It gave him leave to release the pulsing flesh.

  The blurry area between the man and the animal in the kill zone still had him in its grip, tenacious and strong. In this form there were no restraints on behavior. Basic instincts ruled. But he wasn’t all wolf, and he couldn’t feed it the way he wan
ted to. He did the next best thing. He lifted his hind leg and emptied his bladder on his foe. He turned his back on Bardo, adding insult to injury, and trotted to take his place in the line of Ambervane fore fighters—the pack members trained to protect the family. The battle-hardened men flanked Justice. They took one step back, signaling all he had to do was give the word and they’d follow his commands.

  He shimmered into his man form and welcomed the icy air flowing over his heated skin. He looked up to see Saffa had joined her grandmother. She grinned widely down at him. He basked in her approval, something the Redmavens couldn’t fail to observe.

  One by one, the people summoned to the hastily convened meeting shifted to their human forms. Oblivious to the cold, they stood waiting expectantly, well aware of the importance of what was about to occur.

  The council members separated themselves from the crowd. Gretchen leapt from the deck and took her place amongst them.

  “A petition has been put before the council for the title of supreme alpha by Justice Ambervane,” his uncle, Galen, proclaimed, his eyes measuring the eleven sitting members.

  “Bardo Redmaven also puts his name forward for consideration.” The gravelly voice of Maxime, Bardo’s father, added a bit of menace to the mix as he walked over to stand by his dripping son.

  “So be it. A vote will be taken on the next blue moon, three weeks hence.” Galen nodded in acknowledgment of the petitions.

  “Why not take the vote now since the council is here, or do you plan to hand the title to your nephew?” Bardo protested, glaring at the imperturbable Galen.

  “Watch you tongue, cub. It’s been six hundred years since we’ve had to choose a supreme alpha. No one in your pack would remember, but he’s chosen by the packs. A man for all to serve his subjects without bias.”

  Bardo opened his mouth to argue, but his father clamped his hand on his shoulder, shutting him up.

  “There is one other concern I want to put before the council, the matter of the multimorph. My son has been granted permission to press his suit with her. The Ambervanes are hampering my son’s ability to court her.”