Wolf's Choice

by Carina Wilder

  Tristan shook his head. “It’s not just that she cares about others. She does, of course, but she also has a few internal demons that prevent her from finding her own happiness. It’s part of what makes her such a powerful fighter…and what often makes her feel helpless when she can’t help others.” He pulled my right hand to his lips and kissed it. “I don’t want you feeling helpless,” he said. “You have nothing to worry about. You and I will be married tomorrow, Ariana. I’m yours forever. After the wedding, we’ll deal with any obstacle that comes our way together, as husband and wife. You hear me?”

  I nodded and swallowed hard, trying to fight back the tears that wanted to well up in my eyes. “You’re so good at talking me off ledges,” I said. “So much has gone wrong in my life, and I never had someone to lean on—someone to reassure me. I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you for that.”

  “I’m glad,” he said, kissing my other hand. “But I’m not looking for gratitude. All I want is your happiness. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”

  “You’re doing a good job of delivering it on a regular basis,” I told him. “I feel stupid for worrying about things that I can’t control…but that doesn’t stop me from worrying, unfortunately.”

  “Of course it doesn’t. But tell me—did something happen that made you feel uneasy? Did someone say something?” Tristan went silent for a moment, his eyes blazing bright as though his wolf had sprung to attention inside him. “You haven’t…seen my brother, have you?”

  I shook my head. “God no. I hope I never see him again. The truth is, I haven’t seen or heard anything that’s set me off,” I said. “It’s just a gut feeling that I have. Stupid overactive women’s intuition.” I pulled my hands free of his and cupped his jaw in my fingers, delivering a kiss to his perfect lips. “I think it’s just that I’m so damned happy right now, and I’m scared that it will end. I’ve never felt like I deserved happiness. Not like this. Maybe it’s just that I don’t know how to deal with it.”

  “You deserve every good thing in the world. So don’t be scared,” he said with a smile so warm that my body temperature went up by a few degrees. “However the next few days go, I’m yours until the end of time. Remember that, lover.”

  I smiled. I could only wish that we had more time together. There was no such thing as forever, not for me. Only the span of my short, mortal life. I would die long before Tristan did, and maybe someday after I was gone, he’d meet someone else and fall in love all over again.

  No. I didn’t want to think about that.

  Stupid, cruel brain.

  When Tristan sat down in his seat again, taking my hand in his, I let my mind wander back to the conversation Kara and I had several weeks back at the Midsummer Ball, when she’d told me that Valkyries could easily endure the change inflicted on them by a shifter. A half breed Valkyrie-shifter didn’t suffer the trauma that a human did. I couldn’t help but wonder if the blood that ran through my veins was enough to mean that I could endure it just as well.

  If only I could persuade Tristan to change me—if I could get him to see the light and realize that we really could be together forever, if he would just consider giving me that one gift…

  But as I turned to look at him, his eyes now fixed on the clouds outside the window, I knew perfectly well that he would never do it. He’d already said as much. The thought of causing me even a little bit of pain destroyed him.

  My only choice was to enjoy every day I had on this earth with him.

  I wiped my eyes, leaned my head on his shoulder and forced myself to smile. Tomorrow was my wedding day and damn it, I refused to let a dark cloud gather over what should be the happiest moment of my life.

  Chapter 11

  “Are we staying at the same hotel as last time we were in New Orleans?” I asked Tristan as we made our way towards his cherished Aston Martin Valkyrie, which was already waiting for us on the tarmac.

  He shook his head. “No. This time I thought I’d take you somewhere special,” he told me. “To get ready for our big day tomorrow. I figured it would be nice to spend the night outside the city.”

  I eyed him sideways. “Special, huh? I’m a little apprehensive about your idea of special, Mr. Wolfe.”

  “Don’t be, future Mrs. Wolfe.”

  “Mrs. Wolfe.” I ran my lips over the words like I was tasting the best chocolate in the world.

  A shiver caressed my skin as I contemplated my future. By this time tomorrow I would be Ariana Wolfe.

  How insane was that?

  Kara walked over, smiled slyly at me, and handed Tristan a key ring with a single silver key dangling from it. “It’s all ready for you,” she said, giving him a wink. “I trust that you’ll be happy with the place.”

  I wanted to jump up and down and yell “Where are we going? Tell me!” but I managed to keep my cool. “I have no idea what this is about, but I think I like it,” I said, eyeing my husband-to-be as he unlocked the car. “Kara,” I said, “are you coming to the ceremony?”

  She shook her head. “I’m heading back to Manhattan to look after some business meetings for Tristan,” she said, moving forward to hug me. “But listen—I hope it goes perfectly. I’m sure it will.”

  “Thanks.” I glanced over at Tristan before asking, “Are you sure you can’t tell me anything about tonight?”

  She moved her thumb and index finger across her lips then made a gesture as if she was tossing away a key.

  “Damn it.”

  The truth was, I loved the secrecy. A secret wedding meant that no one could or would interfere in our affairs. It meant we would finally be joined officially, and no one on this earth could stop it.

  Part of me—only a very small part—felt sad that Clarissa couldn’t be with us. But she’d understand. I’d never been into throwing parties or drawing attention to myself. Besides, it wasn’t like I had a family to pressure me into a big wedding. I wasn’t even sad that my mother wouldn’t be there; I’d given up on her so long ago that she may as well no longer exist.

  The only thing that mattered in this world was that tomorrow, I’d be married to the man I loved. He was my family now. He was everything to me.

  When we’d climbed into our multi-million dollar ride, Tristan navigated us along narrow, familiar roads as the glossy green leaves of Louisiana’s trees threatened to engulf us on either side. I opened my window, let the wind whip through my hair and inhaled the otherworldly scent of the place. It was now familiar, the scent of cypress trees and marshland. Familiar and beautiful.

  After a time, though, I realized that it wasn’t just Louisiana’s aroma that was stirring memories in my mind.

  “Hey, wait a minute,” I said, realizing that the route he was taking was one I’d been on more than once. “Isn’t this the way to your old house?”

  But when I looked over at Tristan, he didn’t say anything. He just smiled.

  “You’re up to something,” I said. “Oh my God. Are you taking me to the Magic Lake? Are we…are we getting married right now?” My heart started racing in anticipation. It would be perfect. Dusk would come soon—we could be out by the waterfall as the sky turned a dark shade of fuchsia. We’d kiss under the stars as husband and wife…

  “No, we’re not getting hitched” he replied. “Not just now, anyhow, though I suppose this will be a ceremony of sorts.”

  “Ceremony?” I asked. “Are you going to give me a gold medal for being the best lay?”

  “If I’d thought of it, I would,” he said, reaching over and slipping his hand up my thigh, which stirred my core to life. “Best breasts, too,” he said. “Best pussy. Best lips. Best blowjobs. Best…”

  “Okay, I get the picture. I win all the prizes in the sexual Olympics, aside from best hard-on, which of course goes to you.”

  “Naturally.”

  I bounced up and down impatiently in my seat. “What’s really happening?” I asked in a whiny voice. “Tell me!”

  Tristan laughed. “Fine,
I’ll tell you this much: You’ve talked about new beginnings and new memories—we both have. So I think we should start again. I mean really start again. I want us to enjoy this moment together.”

  “That told me absolutely nothing,” I said. “Unless…”

  Was he going to change me? Was this to be my wedding gift?

  I looked at him. No, he was too relaxed. If he’d made such a momentous decision, he’d be struggling with it. This was something different—something more superficial…

  I crossed my arms and pouted. “I don’t like mysteries,” I said. “I want to know what’s coming.”

  “Soon, lover,” Tristan said. “Ten minutes, tops.”

  When Tristan turned the car down the dirt road that led to the old Leclair homestead, I took a deep breath. Well, this wasn’t quite what I was expecting.

  I could only hope that he wasn’t planning on taking me into the decrepit wooden house he’d shown me when we’d first come to New Orleans. The last thing I wanted was to revisit the place that had brought me so much pain—the place where I’d found Tristan’s journal, and the locket that contained his former fiancée’s portrait.

  After a time, Tristan turned into a familiar driveway. I thought I recognized the large willow tree to its left and the curve of the short dirt lane. So, we were going to his old house.

  But as he pulled the car deeper down the driveway, the sight before us confused me.

  “This is the wrong place,” I said. “Did you miss the turn-off? I thought…I thought you were taking us to your old house, for some reason.”

  “No, lover,” Tristan said, pulling the car to a stop. He turned to look at me, his bright wolf eyes gleaming in the sunlight. “My old house doesn’t exist anymore.”

  Without a word I pushed my door open, slipped out of the car and moved towards the structure that stood before me, eyeing it cautiously. No, it definitely wasn’t the same building as the one I’d infiltrated when I’d gone looking for the secrets to Tristan’s past.

  Not even close.

  This house was two stories tall and looked brand new. It was painted pristine white with blue shutters. A colonial looking home, beautifully crafted, with a black slate roof topping it off. The front door, like the shutters, was blue, and a brass knocker sat at its center.

  Everything about the place was beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, that it almost felt out of place in the midst of the overgrown greenery that surrounded us.

  “How did this even get here?” I asked, like someone had picked up a house from some distant location and carried it to this property. Actually, given the magical abilities of some of Tristan’s friends, it wouldn’t entirely have surprised me.

  “Do you like it?” Tristan asked, closing the car door.

  “Of course I do,” I replied. “But why…how…”

  “I hated the old place,” Tristan said, looking up towards the roof sloping towards us as he sidled up next to me. “Hated what it represented. I hated that it hurt you so much.”

  “The house didn’t hurt me. What was inside it did,” I protested. “Though I’ll admit that I had no desire ever to walk through its front door again.”

  “All that matters is that you and I both wanted to be rid of it,” he replied. “What was inside it was a relic of a past that died long ago.” He turned to me, grabbing me by the waist, pulling me close and kissing me. “You’re my future, Ariana. I want you to stay in a beautiful place the night before we get married. I may have hated the house, but I never hated this property. It holds some very good memories, and I want to make new ones with you, here, tonight.”

  I blew out a long exhale and pressed my hand to my forehead as I tried to register everything.

  “It’s amazing. Really amazing. I can’t believe you pulled this off.”

  “Well, I had some help from someone I believe you’ve met.”

  “Trick?” I asked. It had to be. Something told me the powerful shifter probably had some friends in high places.

  Tristan nodded. “A few friends of his did the work. Those are the benefits of being a strong shifter…and now Alpha of this entire region.”

  “He won the Trials?” I asked, but I didn’t even need to look at Tristan to know the answer. “Of course he did,” I said with a smile. “Good for him.” A second later, a thought slipped into my mind. “The Marquis,” I said. “Did Trick…”

  “Kill him? No.”

  “Why not?”

  Tristan grimaced. “Because Trick’s a man of honor. The Alpha Trials aren’t about murdering your opponent. They’re meant to determine the best leader. Trick knew that if he killed the Marquis, the pack would always see him as corrupted. He needs them to respect him rather than fear him.”

  “But the pack must know what a horrible man the Marquis is,” I said. “They should know what he did…what he did to you and probably countless others.”

  Tristan pulled me to his chest and held me there. I could feel his heart beating against my cheek, steady and strong, just like him. “They know,” he said. “Everyone knows what he is. But the pack is stronger now for letting Trick lead them and showing mercy. Descending to the Marquis’ level isn’t going to prove anything, other than to show how cruel some shifters can be. It’s best to let the bastard wallow in the knowledge that he was defeated by a much worthier shifter.”

  I pulled away, narrowed my eyes at my fiancé and grinned. “So you really didn’t have anything to do with Trick’s victory?”

  “I didn’t do anything. My hands are clean. Trick was perfectly capable of winning on his own.”

  “That I believe,” I said as I recalled how massive Trick’s shoulders and chest were. He was quite different from Tristan—a tank of a man, albeit a handsome one. “Well, I’ll have to congratulate him if I see him.”

  “Yes, you will. But come on, don’t you want to see what’s inside this place?” Tristan asked, dangling the silver key in front of my eyes, reminding me that I’d all but forgotten where we were. I grabbed it and ran over to the door, unlocking it and leaping inside with a gleeful shout.

  If the outside of the house was understated colonial, the inside was exquisite. A high foyer greeted us, complete with curved stairway leading up to the second level. A massive, elegant silver and glass chandelier hung overhead.

  On the wall to my right, by some insane twist of Tristan-induced fate, was a painted portrait of me in the red dress I’d worn to the Midsummer Ball. I all but blushed to look at it, though whatever artist had painted the work had been kind enough to pull up the décolletage to an almost tasteful level so that my ample breasts weren’t the focal point.

  “How the hell does that even exist?” I asked with a laugh.

  Tristan smiled. “I know people. I thought you’d figured that by now. Even though the ball wasn’t the most pleasant night for either of us, I fucking loved how you looked in that dress, so I commissioned the portrait.”

  “You’re insane, but I love you for it,” I said, grabbing a handful of his shirt, yanking him towards me and kissing him hard.

  Without another word I darted into the living room through a doorway at the base of the staircase. Tristan knew my love of comfortable, oversized furniture, so he’d ordered a large, gray L-shaped sofa, which was the centerpiece of the gorgeous room. The walls were light gray with glossy white trim around enormous windows that displayed a view of the wilderness that surrounded us on all sides.

  “This is so amazing,” I sang, dancing my way towards the kitchen in the back of the house. I spun around to look at Tristan as I moved. “We’re going to have sex in every room in this house tonight,” I announced. “For one last night, we’re going to live in sin.”

  “I would have been disappointed with anything less,” he replied as he strolled slowly behind me.

  The kitchen was as incredible as I’d expected. A large, marble-topped island sat at its center, an antique wood dining table at the far end under another massive window that looked down into the depth
s of the property, towards the Magic Lake where we’d be married tomorrow.

  I spun around and leaped up onto the table, pulling my thighs open and gesturing for Tristan to come closer.

  “Really? Now?” he asked, an eyebrow raised. “But you haven’t seen everything yet.”

  “You’re right. I want to see everything. So take off your clothes, please, Mr. Wolfe.”

  With a chuckle he pulled his t-shirt over his head to reveal the chiseled torso that I loved so well. His scars seemed somehow faded in the diffused light coming through the windows, almost as though he’d begun to heal at long last. But I had no intention of focusing on them; I wanted my eyes to look beyond the reminders of cruelty to the beauty of the man beyond his physical form.

  Lowering his chin to shoot me a sensual stare, he undid his jeans and slowly pulled them to the ground.

  “Pace yourself,” I said, biting my knuckle as my body tightened in anticipation. “I meant what I said. We’re going to fuck in every room in this place.”

  “Don’t worry. I have every intention of taking you up on that offer.”

  Chapter 12

  By eleven p.m., after an exhausting afternoon and evening, Tristan and I had finally tucked ourselves into our second-story bedroom when a loud banging sounded at the front door. I turned to my fiancé, who was already quietly sniffing the air, trying to figure out who the hell would come calling at this hour.

  “Stay here,” he told me. I was sitting up on the bed, drawing the covers around my chest. “I’ll look after this.”

  “Who is it?” I asked.

  “Nobody important,” he replied curtly, climbing out of bed and quickly slipping on a pair of jeans.

  “Tristan…”

  He turned to look at me, offering an attempt at a grin. “It’s fine,” he said. “I’ll look after it. Remember, we have a wedding tomorrow. Sometimes these things involve last-minute planning, which usually means a surprise visit here and there.”