The Brothers Nightwolf Trilogy

by Taylor, Theodora

  “Will do, bro,” the one Rafes had called Mehmet answered, looking much chastened. “Shouldn’t be too hard to get what we want, since they use biosystem jammers at every fight to stop any outside recording.”

  Much of their conversation was hard to follow, but Myrna understood enough to know this was what she’d feared, what Knud had promised would happen if Rafesson ever found out. And she snapped, “No, Rafesson. You cannot do that. You cannot. I trained for months to prepare for this fight—”

  “You lied for months to prepare for this fight,” Rafes responded, his tone as icy as the top of their village’s mountain.

  “I only lied because I knew you would respond in this manner!” she yelled back.

  “In what manner?” Rafes asked, his voice near to freezing with sarcasm. “You mean, like an embattled president who has to defend his re-election effort from a she-wolf who seems bent on sabotaging it.”

  His words hit her like sharp daggers.

  And it took Myrna many moments before she was able to speak, both her voice and her heart trembling with the force of her emotions. “I know, my very existence is terrible for your campaign. I know you wish I had never landed in your time and you could now be married to someone you actually desire, like Layla Rustanov,” she said, swallowing every true word like a bitter spoonful of the medicines her mother made from forest plants. “But I have never tried to sabotage you. All I have done, despite your intense dislike of me, is try to help you win your campaign.”

  Rafes tilted his head, his eyes squinting in confusion as hers so often had when trying to communicate with the human wrestlers. “That’s what you think this is about? Me not desiring you?”

  “What else would I think, given how you have treated me! You stayed away for the first three moons of what should have been our courtship. And you only seem to be pleased with me when I am pretending to be someone else. Someone like Camille or Layla Rustanov.”

  Rafes closed the distant between them, his body even more stiff than usual as he looked down to say to her in a clipped tone, “Whatever you were thinking when you came up with this hare-brained scheme, it is the opposite of that. If I stayed away, it was to protect you, not to please me.”

  “Protect me?” she repeated, her own voice as hot and furious as his was clipped. “Protect me from what?” she demanded, hating that she was right back where she’d been six moons ago. On the outside of something she didn’t understand. Begging for answers from a male who merely wanted her to do as she was told.

  And just like FJ, Rafes refused to answer. Instead of explaining his words to her, his mouth clamped shut in a way that made her suspect it would not open to give her the answers she wanted, no matter how much she begged.

  But she was done begging. Him or anyone else to let her in. “I gave you my vow to complete this campaign. And I promised your brother, Knud, I would give you a chance to show me that there was someone inside this shell you wear. A male with a heart that beats like mine.”

  “You talked to Knud about me?” Rafesson asked, his eyes slitting.

  “No, Knud talked to me about you. He said there was a loving male underneath all that asshole. He said that loving male would eventually come out. So I waited, and I stayed the hologram you wanted me to be for the sake of your election. And though I tried not to, I continued to hope. That perhaps you could…if not love me deeply as my parents do each other…come to care about me, even a little bit. I thought perhaps one day, you might look upon me, and your heart would quicken as mine does when I look at you. But that is not the case, and so…”

  She took a deep breath, preparing the pronouncement, she’d been holding back ever since she returned with him to The Wolf House. That she no longer wished to be a mate to someone who did not love her. That she would be leaving him to make her own way in this world as soon as his election was won.

  But before she could open her mouth, she was interrupted by an explosion of scent.

  Sharp and pungent, it filled the room like the blasts of a sheep’s horn, cutting off anything further Myrna could have possibly said.

  For she had smelled this before. Back when she still had friends her own age. The eruption of fragrance that let every male wolf in the village know that a she-wolf had suddenly become ripe for fertilization. But, oh Fenrir Wolf, it had never happened to her. She’d even begun to assume it would not be possible for her to ripen in that way without the aid of a heat shot.

  Or so she thought.

  But now…

  Now her body warmed with a desire like none she’d ever known. Now her sex pulsed between her legs, as if it had a heartbeat of its own. And now could she feel something slick issuing from her core. Like the wetness Rafesson’s tongue had produced, but much, much more demanding.

  Mute with shock, she glanced up at the wolf to whom she’d been about to announce her leave taking. He stood frozen before her, with a look of such horror upon his face, she immediately wondered if perhaps he was like Harold, the blacksmith’s youngest son, who could not be moved to mate a she-wolf even when a friend of his sister’s went into heat while visiting their house.

  “What’s going on?” The holograms murmur all around them. “President Nightwolf, is she okay?” “I think maybe she’s…”

  However, what Rafesson did next took all the attention away from her and sent the holograms into a further tizzy.

  “Oh my fucking God,” said the one called Mehmet. While Baylor exclaimed, “What am I looking at? What am I seeing. What. The. HELL?!”

  And though Myrna remained mute with shock, she had to agree with their every alarmed utterance. Completely agree.

  For before her now stood an extremely large black and tan wolf…dressed in a suit and tie and standing on all fours.

  “Why is he in wolf form if she’s gone into heat?” one of the holograms asked. “That’s not possible. That shouldn’t be possible!”

  “We’ve got to help her. He’ll tear her apart! Mehmet, can you put one of the house robots in weapons mode?”

  “Shit, shit, shit, bro. No, all the house robots are built to protect him at all costs. They won’t do anything to help her, even if he’s tearing her apart in wolf form.”

  Myrna heard all of this, but she could only stand there, mesmerized by the wolf’s glowing stare. Trying to understand why…and how Rafes could have possibly turned on a non-full moon night after she’d already gone into heat. The voices were right. This shouldn’t be possible.

  Male wolves could not shift when a she-wolf was in heat. And this was especially true of fated mates. Indeed, her father’s and mother’s love story began when every wolf but he shifted during a village full moon, even though her mother, his fated mate was in heat many favners away.

  Rafes was her fated mate.

  Yet here she was. Staring at his extremely large and snarling wolf.

  “Run. You’ve got to run and close the door behind you,” Baylor finally concluded, his tone grim. “Or else he’ll tear you apart.”

  “No, that won’t work,” said the Mehmet holograms. “The office wasn’t modded with anything, but smarts walls and a hologram set up. The Baltimore Historical Preservation society wouldn’t let us put modern doors on anything downstairs—we barely pushed through smart walls. And look at how big he is. I don’t think a nineteenth century door’s going to hold him back—oh shit, watch out!”

  Apparently, sick of the debate, the wolf started prowling toward her. It’s glowing eyes menacing and intent.

  Myrna backed away. One step. Two steps, before turning and launching herself at the door. She was in heat, but even a she-wolf in heat would not allow herself to be seeded by an animal. Primal instinct cleared her head and made her run from the beast.

  She opened the door, and launched herself into the hallway, slamming the door closed before the wolf could catch her. However, the door could not be locked from the outside and, Mehmet had been right…. it was not nearly as sturdy as the sliding one to her room.
r />   Heavy, ominous thumps soon sounded, shaking the door violently.

  It was the wolf, Myrna guessed, without having to see what was happening on the other side of the one thin piece of wood. It was growling and barking. And throwing it’s large and heavy body against the door.

  To get to her.

  A weapon…she needed a weapon.

  She looked around for something she could use only to freeze again.

  For there stood Craig, just a few palms away.

  And instead of offering to help, he stared at her.

  His eyes glowing.

  Myrna’s heart stopped with the realization that as advanced as this time period was with their heat control and heat shots, one thing remained the same. Natural heat scent still drove wolves crazy. Especially the males.

  Which meant that Craig would now attempt to mate her. Whether she wanted him to or not.

  29

  Myrna

  Once when she was eight winters old, Myrna and her brothers had caught a bunch of frogs and brought them home for her mother to cook. That eve, one of the summer frogs had done the oddest thing, leapt from the cauldron of boiling water, only to die a fiery death in the hearth’s flame. And afterwards her mother had said something even more odd: “Out of the pot, into the flame--so I guess that’s where that expression comes from…”

  That memory flashed through Myrna’s mind as she dashed away from Craig down the hallway and through the several rooms. The frog legs Chloe had presented for last meal that evening tide had been delicious. But this aftermath was most definitely not, Myrna thought as she reached the foyer and made a sharp turn to run up the stairs toward the safety of her room. Craig himself had told her that the bedroom would convert into an indomitable fortress, just by saying the words, “panic mode” once inside.

  Panic mode! Panic mode! she chanted , hoping to both the Fenrir Wolf and her mother’s God, that she was remembering the words right.

  For she’d just made a new discovery about the nature of fated mates. A few moments ago, she’d been in such a state, she would have jumped upon Rafesson’s male, uncaring of the holograms that did watch. But now did she run from Craig, her body chilled and repelled by the thought of being seeded by any wolf but the one to which she’d been fated.

  However, Craig, in the throes of his own wolf lust seemed to care little for her feelings upon this matter. Just as she reached the landing, he tackled her from behind, his hefty body falling heavy on top of hers as they hit the floor.

  “No, no, Craig, you are not my fated mate!” she screamed, desperately trying to get out from underneath him. “Not you! Not ever you! Let me be!”

  Unfortunately, however strong she was, Craig was stronger. And neither her words nor her struggles seemed to have any effect on him as he flipped her over, his unwanted erection digging into her stomach.

  “I’m a silver star Marine,” he growled above her. “Trained for years to be promoted to Special Wolf Forces. But then I got assigned to an asshole president who treats me like a rent-a-cop.”

  Craig bared his teeth. “Well, we’ll see how he likes it when I fuck his bitch.”

  Myrna’s mind reeled with the realization that Craig’s unwanted claiming had less to do with his heat-induced lust and more to do with getting back at his fenrir. Did Rafesson realize just how much his guard despised him?

  Her thoughts cut off, everything inside her cringing when Craig lifted up to pull out his swollen member. She had to get away, had to keep herself from getting claimed by this bitter wolf, and the slight lift of his hips might be the only chance she received.

  With renewed fight, she yanked her hand from his vice grip. Then thanking the Fenrir Wolf for weekly tuxedo manicures that kept her nails as sharp as talons, she slashed her hand across his face and brought up a knee as much as she could.

  Unfortunately, the double attack wasn’t enough to free her. Craig took both strikes with a pained grimace, then with glowing eyes did he lift his arm and whip it in a backwards motion, his hand cracking across her face.

  Stars burst across her vision and the entire side of her face burned hot with pain as she fell back to the floor.

  “Stay still, bitch!” he ground out, pinning her once again with his larger body. “Stop moving while I put this dick in—”

  There came a savage growl, and then a streak of fur took Craig out before he could finish that command, knocking into him so hard that both man and beast crashed into the railing…which gave way under their combined weight with a sickening crack.

  Myrna extended her hand out to save them, but it merely grazed the wolf’s back as both the beast and the guard sailed into air. For a moment, time stood still, everything inside Myrna going sickly quiet. Then came the drop, fast and horrifying. And the next sound she heard was that of wood and glass breaking.

  Scrambling to her feet, Myrna ran back down the stairs even faster than she’d run up them.

  Rafesson’s wolf lie upon the floor, eyes closed but still breathing. Craig, however was not so lucky.

  She found him twitching on top of a pile of dark wood and shattered glass. What used to be a side table upon which she’d once watched The Wolf House robots arrange fresh exotic flowers in the stately glass vases.

  “Help…help me,” he croaked, reaching out to her with a bloody hand.

  Many in her village had accused her of being a selfish person without regard for anyone but herself after the failed alliance with the Jelling Prince. However, if there had ever been a question of her compassionate nature, it was answered then. For despite what Craig had attempted to do to her, she called out, “Robots! Take this male outside to The Wolf House lawn quickly and call for emergency services.”

  She then turned back to the suffering male to grimly advise. “You are in great pain. It will be hard, perhaps even impossible. But you must focus and shift into your wolf. Heal.”

  She gave him this advice, but she did not reach out to touch him as she would have any other wolf in his predicament.

  Nor did she answer when he said, “I…I didn’t mean it. Not…my fault…voice…in head…”

  She merely shook her head, less focused on his excuses than his grave prospects. Craig was most obviously in a great deal of pain, and that should have been enough to call his wolf forward. But the suffering guard remained in his human form. That meant he had sustained an injury that prevented his beast from shifting. Perhaps a broken back, or an internal wound so severe that even his wolf knew he could not be helped.

  Myrna did not necessarily believe the embittered wolf regretted his actions upon her, but Myrna did want to believe him, for his wounds were a grim enough punishment.

  That fall had most likely cost the secretly embittered wolf his ability to walk, perhaps even his life. And thus, she watched with sorrowful eyes as two house robots made quick and efficient work of picking Craig up and carrying him outside The Wolf House doors.

  Myrna could have followed them out while Rafesson’s wolf still lie unconscious. Even if Rafesson had sustained injuries, doing so in wolf form, meant he’d be healed sooner than later…and that he could wake up at any moment.

  However, without the hysterical holograms screaming around her, her mind had become completely focused now. Instead of running from the house while Rafesson slept off his fall, she gave it full lockdown instructions. Commanding it to let no one in, not even the guards or emergency services until the morn. Then she returned to her original mission.

  This would end tonight

  Finding a suitable weapon.

  She picked through the rubble from the piles of dark wood and soon found exactly what she needed. A column from the upstairs banister, so strong and thick, it had remained in one piece, even after hitting the foyer’s hard marble floor.

  It is perfect. Her admiration of the makeshift weapon was interrupted by the sound of a low growl.

  Rafesson’s wolf had awoken.

  However, this time Myrna ran not. Instead she turned a
round to face him.

  30

  Myrna

  A wolf in a suit.

  It should have been funny. But Myrna did not laugh. Instead she stood across from the beast, completely mesmerized. For this wolf was everything Rafesson was not. Snarling and aggressive, it’s intense brown eyes glowing hot and intent. On her.

  “Is this what you were trying to protect me from?” she asked the beast. “Is this why you stayed away?”

  The wolf, naturally, gave no answer. But it took one step closer to her, all four paws scratching the floor, its teeth so menacing and sharp, any other she-wolf would have backed away, maybe even run for her life.

  There was something wrong with Rafesson. A sickness that allowed for this beast to be confronting her now.

  But it had chosen the wrong she-wolf to cross.

  Funny, nearly every wolf from this time thought they understood things better than she. And most of the time, they were right. She had not even known what a pheromone was until it was painstakingly explained to her by one of her teachers. Nor did she understand previous to coming to this time period that heat was something that could be controlled or unleashed with medicine delivered through a needle.

  However, this situation…standing across from a wolf without a human to control it—this one situation she understood better than the wolves of this time period ever could.

  And thus, was it the “savage” Myrna who confronted Rafesson’s wild wolf.

  “You spent so much time trying to change me, Rafesson. Trying to avoid me. Because of this I assume. Because you cannot control your wolf,” she observed quietly. “However, that time might have been better spent learning more about me. For if we had undergone a true courtship, then the topic of what I made of myself in the years following my broken engagement would have come out."