Wolf's Choice

by Carina Wilder

He shook his head. “It’s hard to do that to someone you love. I wouldn’t change my mate for anything, unless it came down to saving her life.”

  “I understand,” I sighed. “I know he wants what’s best for me. I just wish he understood that he’s what’s best for me.”

  “Listen,” Trick said. “Just…go to him. Be patient with him. And don’t mention that woman again, do you hear me? He doesn’t want to think about her. She’s toxic.”

  I nodded and looked around, another worry setting itself into my bones. “Can you do me a favor and let me know if you hear anything about Marcus? I’m really worried about him, and something tells me he’s not back at the house.”

  “Of course,” said Trick. “Now go. Enjoy your wedding night with your new husband. You two deserve this, at the very least.”

  “Thanks.” I patted Trick’s hand and pulled away, then plodded my way inelegantly up to the house and let myself in through the back door, which was wide open.

  When I’d locked it behind me, I found Tristan sitting on the living room couch, his face buried in his hands.

  “Everything was perfect,” he said as I entered the room. “It was fucking perfect. For the first time in my life, everything was exactly as I wanted it.”

  I pushed the large wooden coffee table out of the way and crouched in front of him, setting my hands on his knees. It was a reversal of our usual position. I was always the tormented one, and it was my lover who reassured me. He was my strength when I felt myself breaking. But now he needed me, and I’d stay by his side no matter what. I needed to help him heal from whatever sickness Elodie had inflicted on him.

  “Everything can be perfect again,” I said. “We’ll make sure of it. Our lives will be amazing. We have control over what happens to us, believe it or not.”

  “For now,” he said in an odd tone. “For now.”

  “Sure, for now. Nothing’s ever certain, Tristan. That’s what makes life interesting. Though today it was a little more interesting than I’d like…” I let out a bitter chuckle, but he apparently didn’t see the humor in the situation.

  “Tonight,” he said, ignoring my words and pulling his hands away from his eyes to stare at me. “Tonight will be perfect, even if nothing ever is again.”

  I nodded and offered him the most reassuring smile I could manage. “Yes, of course it will. This is our wedding night, after all. I love you. You love me. We’re together now, forever. No matter what.”

  He took my hands and rose to his feet. When I rose to join him, he kissed me with a passion deeper, hungrier, than ever before, his tongue licking at mine in hungry strokes.

  With his mouth still sealed over mine, he grabbed the front of my beautiful gown and tore it into two pieces, the dress falling off my body like it was made of tissue paper. I nearly protested that I’d wanted to keep it as a memory, but all I could think was fuck it. Who could possibly want a keepsake of the insanity we’d just experienced?

  Naked from the waist up, I kissed him back, my tongue lashing at his as he drove his hand down the front of my panties. In a flash he was on his knees, one hand slipping up to cup my breasts, teeth nipping at my flesh, tongue lashing, leaving a trail of flame in its wake as he turned my arousal up to one thousand.

  With greedy fingers he kneaded my folds, searching for my wetness, a deep sigh escaping his lips as he discovered how tight I was for him. His voracious lips sucked my nipples, forcing my core to clench even tighter for him.

  “I guess we’re starting the honeymoon early,” I said breathlessly, but instead of replying he grabbed me and spun me around. He tore the remaining bits of the dress away from my body, ripped off my panties, and pushed me back onto the couch, wrenching my thighs apart to bury his tongue deep inside me. He lifted my knees over his shoulders, lapping at me with a wildness that I’d never seen in him. My hands grabbed at the pillows surrounding my hips, looking to steady my body and mind in the wake of the feral pleasure that was slowly taking over my mind.

  I rolled my hips forward, meeting his mouth in eager surges as he tormented me in beautiful, searing strokes of his expert tongue. He pulled away every few seconds to look into my eyes, his fingers replacing his mouth to slip aggressively over my knot of nerves.

  Finally he lifted himself up, undoing his pants and letting them drop to the floor along with his boxers. His hard-on looked like it was about to burst, the beautiful crown swollen to an impossible size, exquisite veins lining his engorged shaft. He pressed down and, in one violent motion, rammed himself deep inside me. I cried out so loudly that I was sure I’d shatter the windows.

  He drove into me again and again, fierce and passionate, with a desperate wildness that reminded me all too much of the wolf who lived inside him.

  But just as I felt him swell still more inside me, he pulled out and slipped to his knees again, streaking his tongue over my sex.

  “Fuck, Tristan…I’m going to come,” I moaned. “Keep going…that feels so good.”

  But he didn’t obey my plea. Instead, he rose to his feet again and sheathed himself brutally, slamming his hips into me over and over again, like a man possessed. He pulled out once more, this time to spin me onto my knees on the couch in front of him and bury himself deep again. Leaning forward and reaching around, he fingered my clit as my body heated to a fever pitch, beads of sweat cooling the small of my back.

  “Ariana,” he rasped into my ear, “You’re mine forever. You hear me? No matter what happens…you’re mine.”

  I nodded and whimpered, “Yours forever.”

  “Say it again.”

  “I’m yours forever,” I managed in a more convincing tone. “I’m your Mrs. Wolfe, until the day I die.”

  With one final, savage thrust, he spurted heat inside me. My body clenched around his powerful cock, the convulsions of my exquisite orgasm taking him prisoner inside me.

  I breathed hard, my mind spinning with a combination of sadness and hope. Over and over again, I told myself that whatever happened to his title, to our lives together—we would get through this.

  Tristan and I made love all night. On the floor, in the foyer, against the refrigerator. He was like a wild beast, insatiable and desperate. More than once his teeth sank into my flesh just enough to leave a mark, but not enough to change me. The wolf inside him seemed to want to make me his partner in every possible way, but Tristan’s human side fought back over and over again, taking control just as he came close.

  By the time we climbed into our bed at five in the morning, we were both raw, our bodies spent. There was no question by now that we’d consummated our marriage. No matter what the Seven tried to pull, we were now one. They could rip away Tristan’s title. They could take our home from us, our money, every material thing we owned.

  But we would still be together.

  That was worth more than anything in the world.

  Chapter 18

  After our long night together, I awoke around two p.m. to the sun’s rays piercing through the thick curtains on the windows that flanked the bed on one side. For a second I lay there in a blissful state, thinking about nothing but our wedding night. The love-making, the mad passion with which Tristan had taken me over and over again, like a man possessed.

  From the beginning, our lives together had consisted of one moment of drama after another, but last night, my lover had somehow managed to take it to a whole new level.

  I couldn’t help but wonder, though, how much of it had to do with the woman who’d interrupted our wedding ceremony. That awful, cruel creature who should have died two hundred years ago.

  A sudden, violent memory flashed through my mind of Elodie’s eyes. Those cold, awful irises, fixed on Tristan’s face like she wanted to murder him and eat him, all at once. She’d reminded me so much of Krane, with her seductive voice, her attempts at mind control.

  The difference was that I’d seen the potential of good in Krane. In his own twisted way, he seemed to want to protect Tristan.

 
Elodie, on the other hand, was pure spite. Pure nastiness.

  I hated her.

  The good news was that Tristan hadn’t given in. He’d fought her off, pushed her away. All because of his love for me.

  Affection warming my insides, I reached an arm out in search of my husband, only to find the rumpled sheets next to me empty.

  A sudden, horrifying shot of adrenaline coursed through my body as I shot up to a sitting position and looked around.

  There was no sign of him.

  I leapt out of bed and grabbed a red silk robe that sat on a nearby chair. Tristan had given it to me ages ago, telling me that its color complemented my fiery soul—whatever that meant. Right now, all I felt was the strain of fear on my heart. If anything, my soul was a weak mess of nerves and anxiety.

  Flinging the robe on, I darted to the bathroom and threw open the door.

  No one.

  Downstairs to the front foyer.

  Nothing.

  It was only when I’d sprinted into the kitchen that I discovered the thing I’d been dreading since I’d realized the house was quiet. A note was sitting on the marble island, folded in half with the words To my Wife written in tidy, elegant script.

  My fingers shook as I reached for the paper. I had no idea why it frightened me so much, but suddenly I longed for someone—anyone—to stand by my side and support me, to help me get through what I was about to endure. I needed my father. My sister. Any of those I’d lost. I needed a hand on my shoulder to reassure me, because the piece of paper I was reaching for was already rendering me weak with terror, and I wasn’t sure if I could survive its contents.

  Trembling, I pulled it open and laid it flat on the counter.

  Dear Ariana,

  I have loved you forever. I know it sounds impossible, given that we’ve only known each other a short time, but it’s the truth. You’re the woman I dreamed of when I was young and naive, the woman I dreamed of when my wolf came and stole my soul away from me.

  You’re the woman who always lived inside my mind, who brought me back from the brink of madness…because I knew, even then, that you would one day find me and make me yours.

  Every second with you—good, difficult, infuriating—has been perfection. Every touch of your lips, every look. You are my dream. You are my goddess.

  I will love you from this life to the next. Always, always know that. Remember every day, every morning, every night, how much I loved you. Never, ever be lonely, because I’ll always be with you.

  You are my wife, whatever may happen. And I’m your husband. That will never change.

  Please, for your own sake, don’t try to find me. I ask you this for your own good, and for the good of all those we care about—Kara, Marcus, my pack and Trick’s. You need to go back to New York as soon as possible. Live a good life for me. Do everything you ever dreamed of.

  I’ve made arrangements to give you access to my accounts, so you will never want for anything.

  Please think of me from time to time. Remember how much the man with the blood of a wolf adored his wife.

  All my love,

  Tristan

  The second I finished, I collapsed in a heap on the tile floor, tears flowing uncontrollably down my cheeks.

  He hadn’t said the actual words, but they were there all the same.

  I’d never see him again.

  But why? Had he chosen to go with Elodie, after everything? Was he going to be with her after all?

  No. No way. Tristan wouldn’t do that to me. If he had even one breath in him, he would try to be with me, to find a way to live his life by my side. I knew that now; I’d known it for a long time. He loved me with all his heart and soul.

  So none of this made sense. Not his disappearance, not his pushing me away…nothing.

  For what seemed like an eternity my breathing came painfully, my lungs fighting for air as I fought back tormented sobs. I felt weak—too weak to rise to my feet, to make my way upstairs and get dressed.

  But it was the only thing I could possibly do now. I needed to find out what had happened, why my happiness had been shredded so cruelly, so abruptly. Why the love of my life had deserted me, after everything we’d been through.

  I reached up, grabbed the edge of the marble slab countertop above me, and yanked myself to my feet. When I was finally standing I dragged myself towards the foyer, trying in vain to come up with a plan. I had no recollection of pushing my weight up the stairs, no idea how I ended up in the bedroom. But somehow I was there, staring, nauseated, at the bed where we’d slept together for the last time.

  The one thing I knew was that I still smelled of sex and sweat. My face was a mess of mascara and tears. But there was no time to worry about appearances.

  Nothing mattered, not anymore.

  I needed to find Tristan.

  Chapter 19

  I looked out the bedroom window at the front of the house to see that Tristan’s car was gone. It wasn’t a surprise, of course, but it still managed to feel like a blow. I was now stranded in the middle of nowhere with no escape.

  My husband had done this to me, supposedly for my own good. He’d trapped me in the house that should have provided us with the happiest days of our lives.

  I perched wearily on the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, my face in my hands. There was no way around it; I needed help. But Kara had headed back to Manhattan after flying us down here, so calling her would be pointless.

  Marcus had disappeared.

  The only person around that I could count on was…

  Trick.

  Of course! The Alpha would be able to help me. He could probably track Tristan’s whereabouts, or at least his pack could. If anyone knew how to find my husband, it would be him.

  I raced downstairs and grabbed my cell phone from its charging station, clicking it to life.

  No signal.

  Fuck.

  I wrenched the front door open and raced outside, holding the phone up towards the sky, as if that would help. But as I made my way towards the road, it seemed to; suddenly three magical bars appeared on the screen. Running a quick search for Trick’s Boat Tours, I found a phone number, which I clicked immediately. With every fiber of my being I hoped he’d answer.

  “Pick up, pick up,” I moaned as it rang. After far too many seconds, a cheery female voice on the other said chimed, “Trick’s Tours! How can I help you today?”

  A woman. Damn it. She was probably a receptionist. I needed the man himself.

  “I…” I stammered, my voice quaking. “My name is Ariana Clarke. I’m so sorry, but I need to talk to…”

  “Ariana!” the voice suddenly became animated. “Trick told me what happened yesterday. I’m so sorry. Is everything okay?”

  “No,” I blurted out miserably. “Look, I’m sorry, but is he there?”

  “Trick? He’s out back. Hang on a second and I’ll get him.”

  “Thanks.”

  Seconds later, I heard the shuffling of feet and the deep voice of the Southern Alpha.

  “Ariana, what’s happened?” he asked. But from the tone of his voice, I suspected he already had some idea.

  “It’s Tristan,” I said. “He’s…he’s gone. He left a note…but I don’t know where he is, or what to do…I’m so terrified that I’ll never see him again, Trick…”

  “Do you have a car?” he asked in a controlled voice, no doubt sensing that I needed every ounce of his energy to keep me sane right now.

  “No,” I said. “Is there any way you can come here? I’m desperate.”

  “Of course. I’m on my way. Be there as soon as I can.”

  The next twenty minutes were a living hell. I paced around the house, biting my nails until they all but bled. Occasionally I’d catch a glimpse of my disheveled self in a reflective surface. I almost wanted to laugh, to think this was the way I looked the day after my wedding. What was supposed to be the happiest time of my life had somehow turned into outright torment, and I looked
like death warmed over. It was no wonder; I felt like my insides had been torn apart, and until I knew what had become of Tristan, things wouldn’t get any better. Everything had gone so horribly wrong that I wasn’t sure if I’d died and gone to Hell.

  Finally, a knock sounded at the front door. I raced into the foyer and pulled it open. When I saw Trick’s face, I was tempted to throw myself into his arms and weep, but there was no time for that, damn it. Instead, I shoved Tristan’s note into his hands.

  “Does it mean anything to you?” I asked when he’d had a chance to scan it.

  “Sure. It means a lot.” He stared at the page rather than meeting my eyes, his chest heaving with something that looked like quiet rage.

  “I need more than that, Trick,” I told him. “You have to explain to me what it means or I’m going to lose my mind.”

  He pulled his eyes to mine. They’d gone a searing, terrifying blue that told me his powerful wolf was awake and vigilant inside him. “It means Tristan’s expecting to die,” he said.

  The brutal honesty in his words made me press a hand to the door frame to keep myself from collapsing yet again. “That’s what I thought,” I moaned. “Fuck, I was hoping you’d read some secret shifter code into it. I would rather have found out he’d run away with Elodie, to be honest. It would have killed me, but at least I’d know he was okay.”

  “There’s no code in these words.” Trick ground his jaw, his body taut like a steel cable. “I should have fucking known.”

  “Known what?”

  “What Tristan told us yesterday, about the deal he made with Elodie—it wasn’t true. He said it so you wouldn’t try to stop him from making his choice. She must have given him another ultimatum altogether, and I can guess what it was.”

  I inhaled, holding the air tight in my chest. “What?”

  “His life or yours,” he said.

  “Oh God,” I whispered, leaning my weight against the door jamb.

  “It’s the only way he’d ever agree to her demands,” Trick added.