The Brothers Nightwolf Trilogy

by Taylor, Theodora

  Damianos frowned when he saw Colby bent next to the door frame, making yet another deposit of mucus into the handkerchief he’d started carrying around for just this purpose.

  The COPD was getting worse. The old human would probably end up keeled over in the garden any day now, just like his father. And that would mean Damianos would have to go servant-less for a day or two while he waited for the next Colby to get here…

  It would be worth the wait though, he assured himself, a servant who didn’t take a thousand years to carry out simple orders, would be a welcome relief.

  However, upon thinking this even the itch that he now privately referred to as the “night pain” started up in his chest.

  Coincidence, surely, but Damianos rubbed at his chest until the old servant recovered from his coughing fit and closed the door behind him. Strange, even though he’d never had a problem replacing a Colby before. For some reason, the thought of swapping out this Colby seemed to make the itch throb even worse than usual tonight.

  No, not the thought of replacing him Damianos admitted to himself.

  The thought of being alone in his castle with nothing but the prisoner’s screeches for company until the next Colby arrived.

  With great deliberation, Damianos forced his attention from Colby back to the report. He should be delighted by this news, he told himself. But then, instead of re-reading the report a third time, he got up and walked over to the window.

  There he watched Colby totter around the garden, tending to the flowers in the way of so many of the Colbys. Like they were children, giving him reason to stay alive with their constant need of care and attention.

  And though the sun had not yet set, the itch in Damianos’s belly felt worse than it had ever been.

  Part IV

  I try to stay in control. Try to hold myself back. But…

  23

  Wilma

  The late 1980s

  Wilma awoke in her suite with the world’s worst hangover. But her connection with Bohdan must’ve been some kind of powerful, because instead of turning over and yelling for someone to bring her something greasy and sloppy for breakfast, her gaze immediately went to the flip clock radio on her nightstand.

  Oh, Jesus, it was already 7:45AM! She was supposed to have met Bohdan nearly three hours ago! Her heart skittering with panic and adrenaline, she rushed to get out of bed.

  Big mistake. The headache that popped off when she attempted to move didn’t just pound, it straight donkey konged her, like “Bitch, stay down.”

  Groaning, she rubbed at her temple—only to get hit with something more painful than that whopper of a headache…

  Memories from last night, started flashing through her mind in a burst of images.

  Coming home to that strange dinner with her family…meeting the new King of Alaska…and finding out he planned to take Ford home with him….

  Then came the most chilling memory of all. The wine…her father must have laced it with cocaine.

  The flashback’s conclusion hit her like a bullet shot from her father’s 12-gauge Mossberg. She was in heat…. No, even worse than that, she realized when her olfactory senses finally pushed past the pounding headache to take a good whiff.

  Her room smelled liked a stale version of the orgies that sometimes broke out when the Dark Wolf parties got too wild. And Wilma’s stomach shriveled when she discovered her own scent had changed in two extremely perceptible ways.

  One, she was carrying another wolf’s mating scent, a strange one of ice covered in snow. And two—now the Jesuses really started rolling--there was yet another scent in her mix. One-part iron and heavy metal, one-part ice and snow, with a whole bunch of hCG slathered all over it.

  She choked on her own spit. Pregnant. She was pregnant. But by who?

  As if in answer, a toilet flushed, and the chubby king she had only met last night, came strolling out of her ensuite bathroom. Completely naked!

  “Good Morning, Wilma,” he said, his eyes disappearing into another one of those overly sunny smiles of his. “I’m starving. How about you?”

  Wilma stared at him. More oh Jesuses. All the oh Jesuses. Because she could hear his words clear as a “Smoke on the Water” riff, but his lips weren’t moving. That could only mean he was communicating with her telepathically, because they were bonded. The Alaska King had claimed her, and now he was inside her head. Inside her head!

  If not for the headache, Wilma might have screamed and cried like she’d seen normal girls her age do on TV.

  “Still don’t feel like getting out of bed?” he asked with a sly smile.

  Then he started climbing onto her huge California king like…oh Jesus, like a lover!

  She cringed, pulling up her black covers to hide her naked body. How did this happen? How the hell did this happen? She couldn’t imagine kissing this fool. Much less mating with him!

  He stopped crawling, the sly smile disappearing. “You okay?” he asked, his voice full of concern.

  She was many things…pregnant…hungover…completely confused. But okay was no fucking where on that list. She pulled the covers up even higher. Like all the way up to her chin.

  “Wilma, why are you so upset after what we shared? We talked about this,” he said, now sounding just as confused as she felt. “I leapt at you, but I restrained myself. I mean, I wanted you. Golly, I wanted you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything as powerful as I did that night. But I held myself back, told you to run. And I didn’t claim you until you begged me—”

  Begged him…? What?!

  Her mind nearly blanked out with horror. And it must have shown on her face, because he immediately stopped describing how she’d apparently thrown herself at him last night.

  “Oh golly…oh golly…” he said, his face falling. “You were wolfjacked, weren’t you?”

  “Wolfjacked?” she asked, so unbelievably confused.

  He grimaced. “That means your wolf was in charge that night, not your human. Your wolf agreed to my claim. Not you.”

  Like someone who’d been dazed by a bomb, he fell into a seated position on her large bed. “Sometimes it happens in my kingdom with the she-wolves who really don’t care for the males their family arranged for them to marry,” he said, folding his legs under him, and thankfully finally covering up his junk. “You can usually tell when it happens because the wolf is so much more ah…I guess, you could call it eager than a normal she-wolf. But I couldn’t tell with you.”

  “Wow, so you just assumed I was a big ol’ slut from hello?” Wilma asked, wishing she could cocoon herself in the blanket, not just use it to cover her nakedness.

  “No, I didn’t think that,” he answered with a somber look. “I hoped…I hoped your easy acquiescence meant you liked me as much as I liked you, even though you hadn’t acted as if you did at dinner last Friday.”

  Wait a minute. Did he say last Friday? But it was only Saturday…wasn’t it? “What do you mean last Friday?” she asked. “What day is it?”

  He shook his head, running a hand through his inky black mane. “Thursday,” he answered, with a bitter smile. “It took us a while to put a baby in you. I’m thinking that means he’ll grow up to be a big, strong, strapping boy.”

  Wilma barely heard that last hopeful sentence as her mind filled with white noise. Seven days! She’d been mating another male for seven days. She’d not only missed the breakfast appointment with Bohdan, he would have moved to Baltimore by now.

  She’d lost him. Lost him just like that. As the truth sank in, she covered her mouth with one hand, the pain of that shocking realization bringing tears to her eyes, even though she’d been raised to never, ever cry.

  Wilma clenched her jaw to kill the sob rising in her throat. Upset with her wolf. Upset with herself for ever coming back to this godforsaken kingdom house. Bohdan didn’t have her number, or even a proper mailing address. Which meant he’d think she’d just blown him off. All beca
use she’d been scared of her father finding out, which he had anyway. Stupid. She’d been so stupid. She never should have left his side last night—no, not last night, she bitterly reminded herself. Seven whole days ago.

  “I’m sorry,” Tikaani said as she struggled not to cry. “I’m an honorable wolf. And I never would have…I never would have chosen to hurt you, Wilma.”

  She was sorry, too…so sorry. She thought of Bohdan, sitting all alone at that diner last Saturday morning, waiting on her to come while she was having sex she couldn’t even remember now. But…

  “It’s not your fault,” she decided and told Tikaani at the same time. “My father…he drugged my wine, kickstarted my heat when you were the only non-related male wolf in the room on purpose. That was probably his plan all along.”

  Tikaani shook his head, like the words coming out her mouth weren’t even English. “Why would he do that? Why would any father do that?”

  He was so goddamn innocent, she thought, a resentful wave washing and crashing into the tears she wouldn’t cry. He might as well be guest-starring on the fucking Brady Bunch, he was so far from being able to understand.

  She hated the way he looked at her now. With pity in his eyes that she was incapable of feeling for herself. The thing was, she’d always known this was how things went where she lived. How they turned out. Growing up she-wolf in the Dark Wolf pack, it wasn’t a matter of if you got fucked against your wishes. But when.

  But Tikaani obviously didn’t understand the concept of a father drugging his daughter into heat, so she explained Leroy’s actions in words he’d understand. And to wipe that stupid pity from his eyes. “To trap you into mating me, because he knew no legitimate state prince would ever want a black mange princess from Detroit."

  Tikaani’s eyes widened slightly at her vicious explanation. Then he said, “Oh…golly.” Again.

  Then she and the king of Alaska sank into a heavy silence, both in their feelings, but for very different reasons.

  “I noticed that you weren’t a virgin at our first mating,” Tikaani eventually said into all that quiet.

  “No, I wasn’t,” she answered, her voice hard and flat, as she slowly sat up, the first step to getting out of this bed. She got the feeling the seriously young King of Alaska was one of those Dudley Do-Rights who took all laws, not just the Lupine ones, very seriously. The total opposite of her family. And this wasn’t a conversation she felt like having with him.

  “For a she-wolf to engage in sexual intercourse before her first heat…that’s against the law,” he pointed out.

  “I know,” she answered, trying to scoot to the other edge of the bed without getting donkey konged again.

  “Was he a human?” Tikaani asked, his voice so deliberately casual, she felt the urge to snort, like he’d just told her a joke. But he hadn’t. And this situation wasn’t a joke, or even slightly funny in any kind of way.

  And the fucking headache, it only let her get to the edge of the bed, before she had to stop and rest her head in her hands.

  She could feel his gaze on her naked back as he asked, “Can I get you something? An aspirin tablet? A glass of water?”

  This fool…

  “Look, Alaska, I get you’re feeling bad about how this went down, but like I said, it wasn’t your fault. And I’m sorry you got caught up in one of my dad’s schemes. But you don’t have to stay…”

  She sat on the edge of the bed, planning as she spoke, “I’ll go somewhere far away from here. Raise this baby alone. And I’ll never tell anybody it’s yours. I promise. You can go home now…marry some nice Eskimo girl.”

  But he didn’t go. Didn’t even move on the bed as silence settled over what was supposed to be her parting words.

  Then he said, “The thing is, Wilma, your wolf was in charge…but mine wasn’t.”

  Wilma stilled, then turned to looked at him over her shoulder, even though she had no idea what to say to that. Or what he was trying to tell her.

  He picked at the covers, keeping his head down as he continued, “I wish you hadn’t been with another male before you met me. I wish you had been as…gee, I don’t really have a word for it—the closest I can think of is compelled. I wish you had been as compelled by me as I was by you the moment you stepped into that dining room.”

  Here, he suddenly lifted his eyes to meet hers. “The truth is, you’re right. I could go home and marry a nice Inuit girl. But the thing is, I don’t think I’d be as intrigued by her in a whole lifetime as I was by you during that one dinner. You challenged me. And I like how loyal you are to your brother. That night I wondered if I’d ever be able to find myself someone as loyal to me as you were to Ford. And yes, you’re a tad taller than me—”

  “Like a foot taller,” she pointed out, her voice dazed with shock and confusion.

  “Maybe half a foot,” he edited testily before sobering to say, “But despite our height and our… ah… class differences, golly gee, Wilma, I think life would be more interesting with you than with a nice Eskimo girl. And I think we could build something together. Something strong, because if you’ll have me, I do believe the love will come.”

  She looked at him, truly shocked.

  But he just looked back at her, completely resolved as far as Wilma could see.

  And yeah, she’d made a plan five minutes ago, pushing past a splitting headache to decide what to do next. But the thing was, Wilma had never lived on her own. Never cooked. Or even cleaned. She-wasn’t a human. She-wolves went from their daddy’s house to their mate’s house. That’s how it had always been, how as far as she knew, it would always be.

  And no, Tikaani wasn’t tall or cool or remotely Bohdan. Like, at all. But he was her kind.

  In the end, the offer was complicated, but her answer was simple.

  She couldn’t live under Leroy Greenwolf’s roof any more. And Tikaani Ataneq could was offering her a way out.

  So she took it.

  The very next day she went home with him. And it was awkward. So awkward for months.

  His people felt some kind of way about their king bringing home an opposite-of-traditional queen. They got married in a rush the day after they and her brother arrived at the kingdom house, which was located on a small island about an hour’s ride from the mainland and flanked by a huge lake and mountains. Then there was lots of campaigning and learning how to pretend she wasn’t as mangey as his people assumed during the day, followed by nights of sleeping on opposite sides of Tikaani’s bed.

  Wilma sensed Tikaani’s frustration as the weeks went by. More through their mate bond, than by anything he said or did. He was always kind, always polite, and he always kept that happy smile pasted on, like he was in this shit just for the pleasure of her company. When she woke up to pee in the middle of the night, she could tell he wasn’t really sleeping, could feel his desire to have sex through their mate bond, as strong as if it was her own.

  But it wasn’t her own. So, they went on like that, through the holidays, which unlike Ford, she didn’t return to Detroit for, and for months after that. She felt dead inside and sick with guilt over Bohdan. Sometimes she thought of writing him a letter or trying to call him or…something.

  But no…that would only make things worse. For both Bohdan and the good male she’d promised to honor and obey until death did them part. Also, to love. Even if that last one felt like a promise that would never come true.

  But then, as life is wont to do, things changed.

  One night, just a few weeks before Wilma was due, they received the news that Wilton’s mate, Janelle had died birthing twins who’d come too early. Somehow Wilma had missed it until then. Ford's ease in agreeing to move all the way to Alaska had nothing to do with his inability to be Wilton’s beta.

  No, that night when he fell to his knees, ranting and sobbing, it became very, very clear. Wilma wasn’t the only one who’d fallen for someone she had no business even looking at twice. Ford, as it turned out, had been hopelessly in love
with his brother’s wife.

  And now she was dead.

  Tikaani swooped in as if Ford was the one paying him a high-figure salary and not the other way around. He helped Wilma get her oversized and distraught brother back to the yellow cedar cabin he’d been given as part of his beta contract. And then though Tikaani had only known Ford a few months, he stayed with his beta, talking quietly to her brother, until Ford finally fell asleep.

  Then he walked Wilma back to their much larger kingdom house. And that night instead of sticking to his side of the bed, he came over to hers. As if sensing the tears that would eventually come flowing out of her eyes before she even shed them.

  She wasn’t Leroy Greenwolf’s daughter anymore. She was Tikaani Ataneq’s wife.

  And she finally allowed herself to cry. Not just for Janelle, not just for Ford, but also for the human she had lost, and the love…the love…neither she nor her brother had been allowed to have.

  Tikaani held her and made soothing noises in her ear, but never asked any questions about why she had fallen apart over the death of a she-wolf she barely knew. He made her feel safe. Cared for. No questions asked.

  Tears she learned that night weren’t only for grief, but also for letting go.

  Because no, never meeting Bohdan like she promised hadn’t been a choice. And coming to Alaska had felt like the lesser of two evils. As had getting married to the father of her baby.

  But letting go of Bohdan…that was a decision she finally made that night.

  She went to bed the woman who never showed at that diner, and she woke up as Tikaani Ataneq’s wife. So grateful to be in his arms that she chose to turn over…. chose to reach out and stroke his now familiar face…. chose to softly press her lips into his.

  His eyes had flown open immediately, brown and surprised. Then disappeared again with a happy smile. “I’ve been waiting a long time for that.”

  “For me to kiss you?” she asked. Feeling guilty that they hadn’t so much as held hands since exchanging hasty marriage vows in the backyard of his kingdom house.