SCION
by
HOLLEY
TRENT
Dear Readers:
Norseton Wolves is a self-contained miniseries spun off from The Afótama Legacy. You don’t need to read The Viking Queen’s Men or The Chieftain’s Daughter to understand where the Wolves are or why they’re there, nor do you have to read the four novellas in order. Each Norseton Wolves story is set at approximately the same time. The stories are interwoven and characters may appear throughout the miniseries, but the timelines more or less overlap. The stories may end at different times, depending on how long it takes a couple to find their happily-ever-after, but the ending of one book does not affect another book.
In terms of continuity, Norseton Wolves is set mostly after The Chieftain’s Daughter and before Viking’s Flame.
I hope you enjoy reading this shapeshifter arc set in the Afótama world as much as I loved writing it.
-P.S.: If you’re wondering if Scion is the last-ever Norseton Wolves story, there will be future installments set later in the Afótama timeline. Look for a holiday story in late 2015 featuring Christina’s brother and Lisa’s sister.
Werewolf Ashley Madeira’s father wants her to accept a mate within their New Jersey pack, but Ashley knows such an arrangement is doomed to fail.
She flees to a strange, new pack in New Mexico to become mate to a random wolf, but as it turns out—her would-be husband is no stranger.
Vic Carbone was ousted from his birthpack as teen along with his parents, and along with the other Norseton Wolves, has spent years on the road living hand to mouth. He can’t believe his old alpha’s daughter would be so clueless about the strife he caused the Carbones. She may be blameless, but he hates everything she stands for.
Old grudges form a seemingly insurmountable wedge between the Madeiras and Carbones, but the wolf goddess will only grant Vic and Ashley with perfect mates once. If they’re to have a hopeful future in the Norseton pack, they must set aside the insults of the past. It may take a small miracle for them to manage it.
CHAPTER ONE
As Adam Carbone—the alpha of the Norseton wolfpack—paced in front of the bench where Ashley Madeira and three other eligible mates waited, Ashley fretted.
Maybe I was too rash in coming here. Maybe I should have stuck it out at home.
She blew a quiet raspberry and nibbled on one of her manicured nails.
So stupid.
There were plenty of men back at home. After all, male werewolves were born at a higher frequency than females. But because of the cultural tendency to cull strong males from the pack, her available options were slim.
Had she been any other woman, she wouldn’t have lived to her age without being given to some wolf her alpha deemed suitable. There would have been a riot—people would have demanded that the man in charge chose someone for her.
Even at twenty-nine, there were still some perks to being a daddy’s girl, especially if Daddy was also the alpha.
Even he couldn’t hold off any longer, though. He’d set a date to announce his choice for her mate to the pack, and dread pushed Ashley to do the unthinkable. She’d accepted an offer for a random match.
She’d never done anything so impulsive before. She was a think twice, act once sort of woman, and recklessness frightened her, but she’d been in the right place at the right time and jumped on an opportunity.
For reasons she didn’t know, her father almost never posted the mate calls that other packs sent into the wolf network, but she happened to be in front of his computer when one came through in his open email:
Need: 4
Wolf Type: Any
Pack Name: Inquire.
Pack Location: Inquire.
Contact: Leave message at 555-319-1512.
If Ashley hadn’t been so desperate, she would have disregarded that email for its lack of information, but she couldn’t wait for another bulletin. She’d dialed the number right then and there, and had been worried sick when she didn’t get an immediate return call. Her father’s announcement date loomed closer, and as much as she trusted him, she knew there was no way anyone in the pack could have been a good match for her. If they had been, she certainly would have known already—she would have felt the certainty in her gut. Intuition was one of the few advantages female werewolves had.
She’d been in her bathroom losing her lunch from nerves when Adam finally called back two days later.
“I can get you on a plane tomorrow morning,” he’d said. “Take it or leave it. We’ve gotta act fast. We’re trying to get all four of you here at once, for privacy reasons. I’m sure you understand.”
“I’ll take it!” She hadn’t even bothered giving it a second thought. She’d scrambled to her feet and ran immediately toward the closet where she stored her luggage. “I just—might need some help getting out of here. Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out. Just tell me what to do.”
“Show up at the airport in Newark by five tomorrow morning and check in at the Southwest counter. There’ll be a ticket for you there.”
“Great! Thanks. So, where am I heading?”
“Home, Ashley.”
He’d hung up, and she’d stood there reeling for a minute before she could get her wits about her. She’d wanted to be out of town before her parents knew of her plans, and she didn’t let herself over-think. She just moved.
“Home” had ended up being an isolated desert community in New Mexico called Norseton. She’d been there barely twenty minutes and already, she sat on a bench with three other mate call respondents, waiting for her new alpha to match her with some wolf.
Stomach churning, Ashley leaned to the lady at her left—another East Coaster whose name was Lisa—and whispered, “Tell me this was a good idea.”
Lisa gave her a slight nudge with her elbow and whispered back, “Of course it was. There’s opportunity to make something here. I didn’t have that before. Did you?”
Ashley made some noise that sounded like half scoff and half sob. “The answer to that depends on who you’d ask.”
Alpha passed by again, rubbing his chin as he scrutinized them.
Although Ashley’s father had rarely put out mate calls for his pack, but Ashley was somewhat familiar with how they worked. She had a friend who’d answered one and ended up with a pack in Colorado. Ashley had always hoped to join her there, but obviously it hadn’t been in the cards. Alpha holds the cards now.
Her father had always been mysterious about it, but supposedly, he would consult the wolf goddess for guidance on how to pair the mates with his wolves, and if the goddess was feeling indulgent, she’d tell him who was compatible. Unfortunately, the goddess wasn’t always communicative.
Ashley hoped the goddess was in a sharing mood, because the last thing she needed was to have traveled such a long way only to be paired with some lousy jerk who had no backbone. She could have found one of those sort with her eyes closed back in Jersey.
Alpha looked over their heads, and she couldn’t help turning to learn what was worth seeing. Three wolves waited in the shadows of the small adobe houses behind them. Two dark-haired, one blond. One was missing.
She wouldn’t have turned any of the three that had bothered to show up out of her bed, though. The men in the pack, Alpha included, were amongst the largest born wolves she’d ever seen, and she knew grey wolves. The best she could tell, they weren’t that.
Tapping her finger against her chin, she worked down the list of probable species. It didn’t really matter, but she was certainly curious. She didn’t know any mixed wolves. Mixing just wasn’t done in her old pack.
“Vic,” Alpha called. One of the dark-haired wolves pushed off the wall
he was holding up and, with hands jammed into the pockets of his loose-fitting jeans, strode over.
The power radiating off him was familiar—like Alpha’s. When he was just inches in front of her, she understood why. The men had the same strong jaw, the same tall foreheads, and the same-shaped eyes, although Alpha’s were a deeper brown. Vic was likely what Alpha had been twenty or thirty years before.
Alpha’s son.
Her counterpart. Her equal.
“Good luck.” Alpha gave Vic a hearty thump on the back before turning his attention to his next match.
What did he mean by that? Alpha had been looking at Vic when he’d said it, as if there was something wrong with her.
Is there something wrong with me?
Vic canted his head toward the nearest house and raked his hair back from his face. “Let’s get your bags. I’ve got to be somewhere in an hour, so you’ll have to forgive me for running right out.”
“Oh. Okay.” She stood slowly, looking to Lisa for reassurance.
Lisa gave her the thumbs-up signal.
Ashley cleared her throat, raised her head high, and tucked her purse under her arm. “I have four bags. I guess my father will ship the rest of my things when I tell him where I am.” Certainly he’d found her note and was probably preparing to send his figurative dogs out to find her.
Vic pushed up one dark eyebrow and scoffed before starting for the house.
She followed. “What was the scoff for?”
“Most mates travel with a couple of suitcases and assume they’re starting from scratch.”
“Yeah, well, I imagine most don’t have two nickels to rub together.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“Well, it’s—”
He pulled open the screen door, walked in, and let it slam closed in her face.
Her jaw fell open. Is this guy for real?
“Waiting on your answer. And which bags are yours?” he called out from inside.
She took a deep breath and closed her hands into fists at her sides. She wasn’t going to let herself overreact—not yet. “The silver hard-shells. And I don’t understand your question.”
He brought her suitcases out without another word, and dragged them briskly down the path and around the courtyard connecting the five little houses.
She tottered after him, cursing the sweaty insoles of her espadrilles, and wishing she’d dressed slightly more practically for a cross-country trip. She didn’t know why she’d bothered dressing up for him. He’d barely even looked at her.
He shouldered open his unlocked door, set the suitcases inside, and gestured to the inner sanctum. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“You’re really leaving?”
He shrugged. “I’ll be gone two hours, no more than three. I need to escort the Afótama queen to a meeting.”
“The who?”
He crooked his thumb toward the town about half a mile down the dusty road. “Our hosts are called Afótama. That’s all you really need to know about them. You’ll be okay here.”
“I’m sure I will be, but—”
He didn’t wait for her to spit it out. He was already around the corner before she could think of anything else to stop him.
She snatched the strap of her heavy purse off her shoulder and tossed the bag to the floor. Her toiletry bag tumbled out, spilling the jewelry she hadn’t wanted to put into her checked baggage. She pawed through the mess, and made sure that all of her necklaces were still there and that both pearl earrings had arrived unscathed. She zipped the bag, nestled it back into her purse, and let out a manic little laugh.
“I think I gambled and lost. This has got to be some kind of joke.”
And if it was, either the goddess had a sick sense of humor, or her new alpha did. She wasn’t sure which she preferred.
CHAPTER TWO
Vic didn’t agree with his father on most things. If he had to be perfectly honest about it, he’d have to admit they agreed on very little that didn’t have to do with the pack. The generational divide made them view life through different lenses, but Vic tried to at least understand where the man was coming from. His father was a damned good alpha. No one could dispute that—especially not Vic—but the man seemed to get way too many chuckles from making Vic’s life miserable on occasion. “You’re my only son. It’s my prerogative,” he’d always say.
Apparently, his newest prerogative was to set Vic up for a lifetime of matrimonial misery, and Vic couldn’t even rightfully bitch about it. His pop had always had a clear connection on the goddess hotline, and if the wolf goddess thought that Vic’s mate was the one who’d arrived reeking of some other alpha, Vic would suck it up. Eventually, his mate’s scent—her father’s—would go away. The rest of the shit that was wrong with her probably wouldn’t.
He knew her type—a pampered wolf, and from a pack with a reputation for making trouble. He’d done his research on all the women, just in case, but had kept his mouth shut so as not to make his pack fellows anxious. Every one of the four women that answered the mate call his pop had put out had to be chock full o’ neuroses, but none like the coddled wolf princess in his house at the moment. He just bet that while he was out doing his job, she’d gone through his house and itemized every little thing that didn’t meet her exacting needs.
Probably with her nose turned up.
She was going to be in for a huge shock if she thought he had any desire whatsoever to subsidize her former lifestyle. Her father could send all the money he wanted, but if Vic didn’t like how she was spending it, he wasn’t going to be quiet. Too many alphas got their wealth from the dues they collected from the members of their pack. That money was supposed to pay into a salary of sorts, but it was also supposed to go back into the pack’s coffers to pay for community benefits. More often than not, though, alphas collected more and more money each year to maintain the lifestyle they’d become accustomed to, and none of the dues trickled back down.
He couldn’t help but to take it personally. When his father had been expelled from his birthpack along with his mother and a young Vic, the expulsion had not only been about his father’s threatening power, but about his resistance to paying more dues.
Life on the road wasn’t an ideal situation for any child—wolf or human—and after nearly two decades without a place to belong, Vic and his pack had finally found a permanent home. A territory for a bunch of unwanted, could-be alpha wolves. A different kind of pack.
Not like Ashley’s.
He stepped into the house via the garage door at around eight and found Ashley at the kitchen counter dipping a teabag into a mug.
He didn’t drink tea, but he recognized the scent. It was that stuff his mom blended and bagged herself.
Fuckin’ great. Mom’s been here. He hit the light switch in the garage and closed the door behind him.
“So,” she said. “I’m Ashley, by the way.”
“Yeah. I know.” He knew everything he thought he needed to know about her already.
“All right, then.” She tossed the teabag into the sink and walked past him, sipping that cloyingly sweet brew.
His mom said it was good for nerves, but the powerful smell had always upset his stomach. He flicked the bag down the drain and chased it with some water as he let the garbage disposal do away with it.
“I’m a full moon shifter, by the way,” she said from the sofa and took a long sip of the tea.
“I’m aware of what you are.” And who you are.
“Well, that’s good. Seems like you know far more about me than I do about you, though. Mrs. Carbone would only say so much. She said we’d have plenty of time to chat before the ceremony tomorrow morning.”
“Right. The ceremony. How could I possibly forget?” That was the way it always went. The women got their mates’ bites, which not only activated their ability to shapeshift into their wolf selves, but also changed their scents. They’d smell like their mates, and it’d
be clear to any other male wolf that they were taken. Very soon after receiving their bites, most mated pairs were legally married. Not all bothered with the paperwork nowadays, but Vic’s mother would certainly insist on it. She was a bit old-fashioned.
“Ask your questions,” he said. “You want to know something, ask it outright.”
“You have a problem with friendly conversation? My, this’ll be a gold star relationship, for sure.”
He rolled his eyes. “I don’t have a problem with conversation. I just don’t believe in beating around the bush. Speak pointedly. I assure you that you won’t hurt my feelings.”
“Fine.” She shrugged, and leaned back against the sofa cushions, bringing the teacup to her lips for a long sip. “You seemed disturbed by my presence here. I just want to know why.”
“Okay.” He leaned his forearms onto the counter and steepled his fingers. “I asked you to speak pointedly, so I’ll do the same.”
She kept on sipping that tea, probably hoping she’d be a changed woman by the time she made it to the bottom of her cup. He wouldn’t hold his breath.
“I know about you. All four of you. When Dad approved the call responses, I was the one who did the background checks on you.”
“Obviously, whatever you found couldn’t have been so awful if you let me come anyway.”
“I hoped you’d be some other wolf’s problem.”
Her mouth opened, but no words came out immediately. She set down her teacup and folded her hands atop her lap. “I—wow. That wasn’t very nice. Why would you say that?”
Seriously? He’d warned her that he was all about simple truths, so she shouldn’t have been surprised.
“I’m not a problem.”
“Aren’t you? You going to tell me your hands are clean of all the dirty shit your father cooked up for your old pack?”
Her bright eyes went from round as saucers to dark, narrowed slits as she slowly shook her head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. You might as well be speaking in code.”
Scion (Norseton Wolves Book 4) Page 1