I do. The emotion is so foreign I didn’t recognize it until now. But I’m absolutely drop-dead, howl-at-the-moon crazy in love with my best friend.
“I didn’t respond at all, because I didn’t know what to say,” she blurts before I can tell her about the late-breaking news. “He surprised me with it. I had no idea he wanted me that badly. I can see why you’ve had women drooling over you for years.” She chuckles, though it’s insincere and bumbling with nerves. “I guess your lessons work better than I thought.”
Wrong. Answer.
She’s happy about the fact that Malcolm is begging to get into her pants.
The warmth that had been spreading through my chest moments before flips to bitterness. An awful, vile feeling sinks to a pit in my stomach. “You really nailed him, Snow. You’re the seductress of the year. Congratulations.”
As I emerge from the hot spring, steaming wet and buck naked, I realize I don’t have my clothes. I shredded them when I shifted by the lodge earlier.
“No, Hunter, please don’t go,” she says, climbing out of the water behind me. “I’m going to return to the estate, but only for a couple of hours, and then I’d really like to talk to you about something. Will you wait up for me?”
Oh, sure as fuck.
I’ll be waiting with my dick in my hand for her to bond with Malcolm and then return to tell all the sordid details. I’ll be her booty call. The guy she runs to when she wants a good lay. The friend she tells everything to, while Malcolm gets to claim her every day and every night.
A year ago—hell, last week—that would’ve been enough for me.
Now? I want her to be mine, every minute of every day, and not just for the sex. I want her.
But she wasn’t sure enough about me—about us—to know what to say to Malcolm when he declared his intent.
“Yeah.” I focus on the coming shift, balling all the hatred and jealousy and bitterness in the bottom of my stomach. “Sure thing. Can you make it back to the estate all right on your own?”
“Yeah, but, Hunter—”
“Come back whenever you want.”
And then I let the rage explode through me as I shift into wolf form and take off toward the lodge.
Chapter Three
Snow
Know who I really am and what I really want.
I’ve been thinking about Hunter’s final rule of seduction since I stepped foot in the estate an hour ago. I tried to find Malcolm or my stepmother to discuss my plans first thing, but they’re MIA.
I have to find them.
Sooner rather than later is best, but Hunter said he would wait for me. If it takes all night, my stepmother will have to understand where I’m coming from. And Malcolm will know that I don’t plan on being Mrs. Taylor. As amazing as that sounds on the surface, it’s not what I truly want. However, a business relationship could be a different matter entirely.
If he’s still interested.
Before emerging from my room to head down to the ceremony, I let the wolf part of me burst to the surface. In the blink of an eye, fur coats my skin in a smooth layer of white. My muzzle elongates, my fangs drop, and as I sink to my haunches, a shake rolls through me, from my tail to my ears and back again.
God, that feels good.
It’s been too long since I’ve shifted. I’ve been so preoccupied with Hunter and Malcolm that I haven’t taken advantage of this weekend away from the prying eyes of our usual estate visitors to shift. I’ve missed the freedom, the heightened senses, and the raw strength pulsing through my muscles. I haven’t even really been that nervous about becoming Alpha. Normally, I would’ve been anxious as hell, but Hunter managed to distract me in the best way possible.
Padding down the halls, passing packmates as I go, I practice what I’m going to say to my stepmother.
It’s not going to work with Malcolm, not the way you want. I’m going to talk to him about investing in our estate. If he wants in, we’re golden. If not, we’ll move and land on our feet. We’ll be fine.
Simple. Clear cut. She’s still going to be pissed that her plan didn’t work out.
But this last weekend has clarified a few things. I know who I am, who my parents raised me to be. I’m proud to carry the White last name, and I have worked my behind off to keep my father’s legacy burning brightly through the estate. Even though it’s failing—I’m failing—I can confidently say I’ve done everything in my power to save it.
I wasn’t expecting one of the richest men in the country to want a future with me. A relationship with Malcolm would save the thing I’ve loved most in the world, and although it’s tempting as hell to jump on board that ship and sail off into the sunset, it’s not the path I want.
That’s the other thing that’s become clear.
I want Hunter and everything that means. All I can think about is the heat in his touch, the loving gleam in his sapphire-blue eyes, the hint of a smirk curling his kissable lips, and the way he fills me with passion and love when he plunges deep inside me.
That’s what I really want.
As far as where we’ll live, and where the packmates will shift, we’ll choose one of Hunter’s lodges—the one in Colorado or Alaska, maybe—and we’ll have full moon festivities there. We’ll use that lodge as our home base for one week out of the month when the pack needs me the most and then travel the other three weeks.
It won’t be an ideal situation when we finally decide to have children, but we can cross that bridge when we get there. Maybe he’ll decide to put down roots himself, the way my father did when he met my mother.
I can still have everything. It’s right at the tips of my fingers.
At the bottom of the stairs, I turn right and stare out over the wide expanse of the back lawn. The breath stalls in my lungs, the way it always does at induction ceremony time. Black, white, and brown wolves dot the lawn, bowing, crouching, or lying in the grass. They’re divided into unmated and mated sections, with the latter lining the edges. In the middle of the furry group, unmated wolves line up, ready to declare their mate in front of everyone.
Unlike other packs in the area, our rules don’t require that a werewolf bond with another on induction night in order to be included in the pack. Wolves can belong to our family, receive all the support and protection we offer, without being mated to another. My father, a hopeless romantic to the end, felt werewolves should wait for their fated mates rather than choose one hastily. My stepmother, on the other hand, doesn’t believe in fated mates. She routinely asks packmates to marry for financial security alone, to strengthen our core.
Some listen, some don’t.
I don’t need to hear her speeches at the monthly induction ceremony to know how strongly she feels about the issue. She wouldn’t be pushing Malcolm on me if diamonds weren’t dripping out of his pockets.
There you are, my stepmother says from beside me, projecting the thought from her mind to mine. I was wondering where you’d disappeared to.
She’s regal as a wolf, with inky black fur, lean, sinewy muscles, and her chin slightly lifted so she can glare down the ridge of her narrow muzzle. I’m as opposite as I can get, with snowy white fur, wide brown eyes, and a thick, bushy tail—more like my father than I realized before he died.
I had a few things to take care of, I project back, striding out the French doors and onto the back patio. But I’m here now.
She follows me out the doors and into the late afternoon sun, her penetrating gaze heating my back with its intensity. I had an interesting talk with Malcolm in my office earlier today.
That’s why I couldn’t find them. She’d arranged a private meeting.
Did he tell her about our time in his room? About how he got off on watching me in the mirror? Please let him have kept his mouth shut. It’ll only make things more complicated to explain. Anxiety whips through me, stinging my chest and burning a hole in the back of my throat.
Oh yeah? I force my tone flat as I measure her impenetrable gaze. What’d he have to say?<
br />
She perches on the edge of the patio as wolves fill the empty spaces before us. He said he intends to declare you as his mate at today’s ceremony. I have to say, Snow, I was unsure whether you’d be able to pull this off. But you did it. I underestimated your ability to seduce a man, but thank the Lord above I didn’t underestimate your beauty.
Maybe I piqued his interest with my brains, I answer, eyeing the lawn as it fills with my pack brothers and sisters. Ever thought of that?
Oh sure. Unmated males like Malcolm are focused on brains. Gotcha. She bumps against me playfully. The how and the why don’t interest me at all, actually. I’m simply glad you came to your senses. Bonding with Malcolm is the only way we can secure our future.
I shouldn’t respond, shouldn’t answer, not until I speak with Malcolm. But as my gaze skids over the packmates in attendance, I spy six of Hunter’s friends gathered in the center of the lawn. Cash, Diesel, Harley, J.D., Rocky, and Goliath. They’re massive in wolf form, with thick muzzles, wide paws, and coarse gray and black fur.
If my stepmother knew I’d spent the last few nights in their company, she’d be pissed. And when she finds out I plan to refuse Malcolm and marry Hunter—God, she’s going to blow her lid.
Keep it clear and simple. What had I wanted to say?
The words don’t come.
I don’t think you should put too much hope on my relationship with Malcolm, I say, taking a leap. Things may not work out the way you’ve planned.
She pulls back slowly. How so?
Sighing heavily, I turn toward her, staring into the depths of her dark eyes. I’m not going to bond with Malcolm tonight. I just need to talk to him before the ceremony.
But he said—I could’ve sworn he said the two of you were on the same page. Her tone is vile, tightened with hatred. I didn’t mishear him.
I clench my teeth together and sit back, relishing the breeze as it sweeps over the lawn and ruffles my fur. The conversation is tense and heating me through, and it’s only going to get worse.
I’ve changed my mind.
Her attention darts to the wolves gathering on the lawn, and then back to me. Come with me. We’ll finish talking about this in private.
It’s not going to change anything.
A low growl erupts from her chest. We’ll see.
Exiting the patio with a grimace etched on her stoic face, my stepmother slips inside the main hall, past the bustling dining room, up the stairs, and into the den. As I enter behind her, she shifts back into human form and drags a robe off a hook behind the door. Tying the silk sash around her waist, she glares over her shoulder as she heads toward the bar.
“For the talk we’re about to have, I’ll need a drink,” she bites out, hatred in her tone. “Close the door, would you?”
Shifting back to human form to match her, I close the door and drag a blue velvet robe off its hook. Shoving my arms into the sleeves, I watch my stepmother carefully as she opens a drawer beside the mahogany bar, digs out a wrought iron skeleton key, and crouches, leaving my line of sight.
“And I get the feeling I’ll need something special, something stronger,” I hear her say as the sound of a key twisting in a lock hits my ears. “It’s a shame we have to keep the expensive liquor locked up. Can’t even trust the staff these days.”
I keep my mouth shut as I pace around the den, taking in the teeming shelves of leather-bound classics. This was always my father’s favorite room—I’d find him in here all the time, relaxing in front of the stone hearth, his foot kicked up over his knee, a cigar on his lips and a book open in his hands. It smells of well-oiled wood and old book pages, and I can’t help but breathe deeply in the comforting space.
“Now,” my stepmother says suddenly, cutting my relaxing breath short, “what the hell is wrong with you, Snow?”
All feelings of comfort are gone. Obliterated. I’m left with nothing but a skin full of chills and a stuttering in my heart.
“Nothing is wrong with me,” I answer, listening to ice shake in the martini tumbler as she waves it in the air. “But I’ve come to the realization that Malcolm isn’t the man who can make me happy.”
“You think ruling this pack is about making yourself happy and catering to your needs?” She laughs sickly. “I was right to doubt your ability—and your intention. You’re not ready to become Alpha.”
Doubt trickles into my heart. I feel ready, but maybe she’s right. Maybe I’m too selfish, and too stubborn, to make decisions based solely on the pack’s needs.
If only I could talk to Malcolm…
“This is what I don’t get, Snow,” my stepmother goes on, pouring bright green liquid evenly into two martini glasses. “Malcolm is handsome, charming, and probably has more money than the goddamn royal family. It’s not like I’m asking you to marry a hunchback for the sake of the pack. Hell, without taking a poll, I know most of the women here would chew off their hind legs for a chance with a guy like Malcolm. You’re the only one who seems to have a problem with the arrangement.“
“You’re right. About everything. Malcolm’s as perfect as I thought he was.” Swallowing hard, I say the thing I’ve been meaning to say since I walked back to the estate earlier. “He’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a mate, but I have to follow my heart like my father would’ve wanted me to do. I can try to deny it—and I have—but my heart is leading me back through that forest, right into Hunter’s arms. It always has, I simply didn’t realize how much until I finally got what I wanted…Malcolm. And then realized he wasn’t the one I wanted after all.”
It’s done. Over.
I couldn’t have said it better if I’d outlined it on index cards.
My stepmother glares as she focuses on the glasses in her hands. “Your packmates rely on this place—the home your father built with his two hands—to shift in private and be themselves. Some of our packmates have been visiting the White Estate since their first transition, over fifty years ago. Others are new, joined our family later, but have become lifelong friends.”
My thoughts turn to Hunter’s buddies. They accepted me as part of their tight inner circle. Cash let me beat him at poker, J.D. shared his favorite drink with me, and Diesel let Hunter and I borrow his car to get down and dirty. He may not know that’s what happened, but I’m sure he wouldn’t care. Hell, he’d probably high-five Hunter just as fast as he’d scold him for it. They’re more like brothers than friends. Family through and through.
“Without this place,” my stepmother goes on, striding over and extending a glass toward me, “where will we meet during the full moon? If we lose our home, as we’re going to do, we won’t have the credit to secure another estate as massive as this—one that can accommodate everyone comfortably.”
It’s happened before, to other packs. They split apart, go different ways, join other packs or remain rogue.
But I have a plan…
I take the drink from her—an appletini, my favorite—and take the first sip. It’s chilled and sweet and instantly soothes the nerves rattling through me. “There might be a way to solve everything.” As I take another drink, something bitter strikes my palate. I swipe my thumb over the sugar-dusted rim, eyeing the residue left on my fingers. “I just need to talk to Malcolm before he declares me as his mate in front of everyone.”
“I can’t believe you’re going to screw this whole thing up. He’s perfect and you know it, and for reasons I can’t fathom, he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.” Venom drips from her tone as she shakes her head disapprovingly. “If you would stop acting like a selfish troll and put the pack’s needs before your own for once, you’d finally be the Alpha they need.”
“If you would trust me for once”—I clear my throat as bitterness clings there—“you’d realize I’m not going to let my packmates down. I just need…” My vision swims in and out, in and out. Warm, soothing feelings wash through me, weakening my arms and legs. “What kind of vodka did you use?” Every muscle in my body loos
ens, going completely relaxed, until I feel like I’m floating. Squinting, I stare at the drink in my hand. “It’s…strong.”
My stepmother sets her drink on the end of the bar and approaches me, though she’s a blur, the outline of her body fuzzy and undistinguishable. “Well, let’s see. There’s vodka, apple schnapps, Cointreau, and…what was that last ingredient? Oh yes—ketamine.”
Her final word strikes me hard, echoing through my head with the force of a sledgehammer. Temples throbbing, I stagger, reaching for the mantel, the couch, something, anything, as the glass slips from my hand and shatters on the hardwood floor.
“Sweet dreams, Snow White.”
Spots dance in front of my eyes as I lose my balance and stagger into something hard. Was that the hearth? I’m passing out, going down, being sucked into blackness.
No, no, no. But I’m too tired—too drugged—to fight the dark closing in.
My stepmother’s slow, wicked laugh engulfs me as I hit the floor.
Chapter Four
Snow
I feel as if I’m crawling out of quicksand…only, I’m in my mind. My thoughts are murky and slow moving. My arms are like lead, dreadfully heavy, and I couldn’t move them if I tried. I can’t open my eyes, but not because they’re taped shut. At least I can’t feel any tape.
I can’t feel anything.
My senses are blocked. Dead. I can’t hear anything, not even my own heartbeat. I can’t feel anything, either. Nothing. Blackness consumes me like a cloak, covering every inch of me inside and out. There’s no panic, no startle, no adrenaline. I’m comfortable. Numb. Blissfully aware of being unaware.
From out of nowhere, the sensation of lying down strikes me.
Until that pinprick of a realization, I could’ve been standing, sitting, floating through the starless expanse of night over my head.
I’m lying down.
I know that now, and I hold onto that thought as if it’s the most important thing I’ve ever known. Is my head on a pillow? The floor? I can’t tell, but I don’t care.
“You said there were diamonds.” Gravelly tones ooze into my ears, the first sound I’ve heard in—God, how long as it been? Time doesn’t exist. Doesn’t matter. Not anymore. “We’ve searched every inch of the estate and the forest. They are no mines here.”
Snow's Surrender (A Snow White Werewolf Tale) Page 3