Fun With Wolves (Twin Werewolf Menage Romance Book 1)

by Amira Rain

  Jill frowned. “Well, ‘meditating’ how? Like chanting or something? Or yoga?”

  “Start taking long walks. Just stand in the forest. Be still.”

  Seeming to contemplate this with a serious expression, Jill nodded. “Okay. I can do that.”

  For several moments, everyone just quietly sipped their drinks until Jill spoke to Willow again. “May I ask you two questions?”

  Willow told her to go ahead, and Jill thanked her.

  “My first question has to do with the clothes you’re wearing. Where do you get them? Do you go down the mountain to shop?”

  I’d actually been wondering that myself. Willow’s flowy, long brown skirt and dark green tunic were both a bit faded, indicating that she’d probably had them for quite some time, but I figured she probably had to have gotten them from a store at some point, unless she’d made them herself. But even then, she’d have had to purchase the cloth. She was also wearing sturdy, brown, Maryjane-type shoes that had definitely come from a store, with thick rubber soles and gold-toned metal buckles.

  In response to Jill’s question about shopping, though, she shook her head. “This is the first time I’ve been down the mountain in probably fifty years. I get visitors every so often, and I always have, usually at least a few times a year. First it was explorers, and then it was students, and now it’s dragons. But no matter the group, the visitors have always given me gifts. Sometimes clothes, sometimes food. One of the students once brought me a collection of books, which I still have. Everything else I need, I grow, hunt, trap, or make myself.”

  Seemingly satisfied, Jill nodded. “Oh, okay. I was just curious about that. And now the second question I have is…well, I hope you don’t think this is rude to ask, but…are you really a hundred and eleven years old?”

  A shadow of a smile ghosted across Willow’s mouth.

  “I’m much older than that, and I’m much younger than that.”

  “So, no, then?”

  “So, no.”

  If I’d had to guess, I would have said Willow was maybe in her late seventies or early eighties.

  After Jill had asked Willow a few additional questions, I asked Willow if she’d like something to eat, but she declined.

  “I’d really like to get back to my home as soon as possible, if you don’t mind, so if you’ll bring me the child, I’ll get started on what I came to do.”

  Alex was out in the living room, taking a nap in his playpen. He’d wanted Jake to actually get in the playpen to nap with him, but I’d said no, explaining that, for one thing, playpens weren’t for big dogs, and for another thing, I wanted to go shut Jake in one of the bedrooms so that he wouldn’t possibly scare mommy and daddy’s guest, who was Willow. Considering that Jake still had a tendency to jump up on people, and being that Willow was elderly, I’d thought it was probably wise to keep him away from her. All Alex had understood of what I’d told him was that I was saying no to Jake getting in the playpen with him, which had made Alex wail, and he’d eventually cried himself to sleep. Now I hated to wake him, but I did anyway, because obviously, it was for a pretty important reason.

  After letting him shake off his sleep haze for a minute and telling him that I wanted him to meet a nice lady who was a guest of Mommy and Daddy, I carried him out to the kitchen on my hip. “Willow, this is Alex. He just woke up, so please forgive him for being a little sleepy.”

  Willow offered him a small smile and said hello, then glanced from me to Ryan. “He’s a beautiful child.”

  Ryan and I said thank you; she said we were welcome, and then asked if it was okay that she lay a hand on Alex’s head for just a moment. I brought him over to her, saying that that was perfectly fine, and telling Alex that the nice lady just wanted to pat his head really quick. He offered no resistance; Willow rested a hand on the top of his head for just a second or two, eyes closed, and that was that. She then asked if I could get Alex to spit in a cup.

  “I just need a very small amount.”

  After getting a plastic cup from the cupboard, I told Alex to spit just like we did after we brushed our teeth at night. Without questioning this at all, or even giving me a funny look, he lowered his face to the cup, spit a few times, and then raised his face with a smile. “I did it!”

  Taking the cup, Willow soon went out to sit in the sunroom, saying that she’d just need an hour or so to “figure things out.” I had no idea what she planned to do with Alex’s saliva, but I really didn’t care. Earlier, Jill had speculated that she’d rub it between her palms while “praying to all sorts of different divine beings in the sky.”

  “Doesn’t that just seem like something a ‘mystic’ would do?”

  I’d said I really had no idea.

  To give Willow some peace and quiet and privacy, Ryan and I decided to take Alex out for a fruit smoothie and a snack at the café. Jill also took her leave, after telling Willow it had been nice to meet her and asking if she could come up to visit her on Mount Arvon sometime.

  “I’ll bring you up some tap water, or whatever else you want.”

  With a faint smile ghosting across her mouth like earlier, Willow said she’d like that.

  While at the café, Ryan and I didn’t talk much, both of us a little anxious about what Willow might tell us when we returned home. Alex, however, seemed completely oblivious, running around the café with a cup of yogurt in his hand, then later playing a hopscotch type of game with Claire’s little daughter. After using a stepstool in the restroom to “tinkle” all by himself with me just standing nearby—something he’d already been doing for days—he insisted that Ryan and I buy him a chocolate chip cookie for a reward, which we did. It was pretty impressive to be potty-trained at only a couple months old.

  When we returned to the house about an hour-and-a-half later, Alex went tearing out to the living room with Jake, asking him if he wanted to play “throw ball,” which was what Alex called “fetch,” using a collection of foam and rubber balls that I kept in a basket in the living room for this purpose.

  Willow soon emerged from the sunroom, joined Ryan and me at the island, and got right to it. “A spell has been cast upon Alex, probably by way of a spell that was cast upon you, Julia, either very early on while you were carrying him or maybe right before.”

  I immediately thought of the Graywolf spies that had gotten into the village the day of our wedding. The leader of the Graywolves himself, Frederick Bennett, who was said to be able to do magic, had been one of them. Stunned, I didn’t say anything, and Willow continued.

  “I wasn’t able to ‘see’ the spell-caster’s name, but I’m sure he’s known to the two of you. He’s a wolf with glowing red eyes, the same as all his people have. He’s the leader of them and an enemy to all here in Briarwood.”

  Jaw clenched, Ryan nodded. “Frederick Bennett.”

  Willow didn’t look at all surprised. “I was feeling something with a B.”

  I briefly told Willow about his spy attack the day of the wedding, then asked her how, specifically, Frederick Bennett had been able to cast a spell on me, since I’d never even come into contact with him.

  Willow said that hadn’t even been necessary. “He was somehow close enough to you, maybe within a few hundred feet, to get the job done. I can intuit that at ‘close range,’ he’s able to read minds, to an extent. He probably picked up on some of your thoughts during the wedding, realized that you were marrying the commander, and cast a spell on you from a distance, cursing any child you would conceive. I can feel that this was a spell he planned to do over and over to every woman in the village if he was able, wanting to force you all off your land by way of chaos, misery, and death. The reason he wasn’t able to, though, is because he was chased. I saw a vision of him running. Then, everything went gray in my mind, but I got a strong feeling. He was somehow injured in a way that damaged his magical abilities. He was struck in the head maybe…and later this caused his brain to bleed, though he survived. He was weakened, not physicall
y, but magically. I feel that this was a permanent injury. Now he’s angry. He’s frustrated. He tried to use his magic on some of his own people and failed. This is why he hasn’t been back to trouble you folks in Briarwood since. He just doesn’t know how to proceed, now that his plan to cast spells on all of the women has failed. He keeps thinking that the injury to his magical abilities will heal, but they won’t. I feel this strongly. He has physical strength only, now. No magic. Whatever way his head was hurt, it was catastrophic for him.”

  Ryan said that Steb, who was his top lieutenant, had inflicted the injury. “When we were chasing Bennett, Steb was able to tackle him, slamming his head into a rock in the process. But then one of Bennett’s wolves attacked Steb, allowing Bennett to escape. I and my other elite pack members were occupied dealing with other wolves at the time.”

  Willow said it was incredibly lucky Steb had been able to do what he had. “If he hadn’t, Bennett would have likely cast his special spell on every woman in the village. In his dark heart, he really thought this was how he would triumph…by causing such devastation and heartache that eventually everyone in this village would ‘break’ and leave voluntarily, ceding the land to him without a single fight.”

  Feeling slightly nauseated, I spoke with a little tremor in my voice. “How exactly was the ‘devastation and heartache’ supposed to happen? And a little bit ago, you said something about death. What did you mean?”

  I actually had a pretty good idea of what she’d meant, although I couldn’t quite get my brain to fully “go there,” for some reason. It just wouldn’t do it. And I had a feeling it would continue resisting until Willow clearly spelled things out for me, which she soon did.

  “I’m loathe to tell to tell you both this, Ryan and Julia, but all spells previously cast by Bennett were not broken when he was injured. And if the spell he cast on you and your womb is not broken, Julia, Alex will continue growing and aging at a rapid pace, becoming an elderly man and dying after maybe just a year or so.”

  Tears filled my eyes as what had been resisting clicking into place in my brain finally did.

  Wiping a falling tear away, I shook my head. “No. No, that can’t happen. Alex can’t die. What can Ryan and I do to stop it?”

  Leaving me hanging for what felt like an excruciatingly long moment, Willow took a sip of water before responding. “The spell can only be broken is if Bennett is killed. I feel this strongly, so strongly that I’m certain it’s true. His death will break every spell he’s ever cast in his life. In the meantime, Alex will continue to grow and age, although at a somewhat erratic pace, as I was able to see he’s been doing already, growing slowly and normally for the first few weeks of his life. I’m not exactly sure why this is, but I suspect it has something to do with Bennett’s injury. It might have somehow ‘disorganized’ the magic of his spell, so to speak, though without breaking it. Or maybe it was the first time he’d performed the spell, and he didn’t cast it exactly right in the first place. This is all murky to me. As is Alex’s future and the future of your family. Normally, I’m able to see quite far into a person’s future, as well as the futures of their close family members, but there seems to be something about the spell that’s somehow blocking me in this case. All I can say is that I don’t even need to use my psychic powers to see that Alex has two very loving parents, and I have faith that the two of you will see to it that Bennett is killed in order to break the spell and save Alex’s life. But as to how he will be killed exactly, and when, and by whom, I’m sorry, but my powers are failing me on these counts. I think I’ve now told you all I can.”

  Ryan, who’d been grinding his teeth so hard that I’d been able to hear it, now spoke. “We will see to it that Bennett is killed, and very soon. Thank you for all the information you’ve given us, Willow.”

  She said she’d been glad to do it, and Ryan asked her if we could give her some form of payment.

  “Whatever you want or need. Anything at all.”

  Seemingly prepared for this question, Willow answered right away. “I thank you, and I’ll accept a bag of non-perishable food of any kind to take home with me on the dragon’s back. I’ll also accept a blanket of any kind and size, although I would like one on the thicker side, if possible. A quilt would be nice.”

  While Ryan went upstairs to grab a thick quilt from a bed in one of the guest rooms, Willow glided into the sunroom in her light, graceful sort of way, her long gray braid hanging down her back, saying that she’d like to visit with the cats. I grabbed a large paper bag to fill with non-perishable food, but then abandoned it, running into the laundry room for a large duffle bag with a zipper. For one thing, the zipper would prevent the food from spilling out during Willow’s ride home on Tom the dragon’s back, and for another thing, I’d be able to fit more in the duffle bag than I ever could in a paper bag, or even in three.

  Back in the kitchen, I raided the vast, walk-in pantry and filled the duffle bag with bags of rice; bags of beans; boxes of noodles; canned chicken, tuna, and sardines, all with pop-tops that didn’t require a can opener; a twenty-pack box of dry soup mix packets; dried fruit; fruit juice concentrate in pop-top cans, which I figured Willow could mix with double the amount of water so that it wouldn’t be too sweet for her taste; a box of powdered milk; a bag of individually-wrapped dark chocolate squares; bottles of vegetable and olive oil; salt, pepper, and spice shakers; an enormous can of instant coffee; and many other items that I thought a person with no access to a grocery store might like. Wondering if Willow had adequate cookware and dishes, I even added a skillet; a saucepan; an unbreakable plastic plate and cup; a knife, fork, and spoon; a bottle of dish soap; and a few dish scrubbers and tea towels, all items from a box of kitchen items from my apartment in Pauli. By the time I dragged the duffel bag out of the pantry, I guessed that it had to weigh maybe sixty or seventy pounds, and I hoped it wouldn’t be too much of an extra burden on Tom’s back while he flew Willow back home to Mount Arvon, though I didn’t think it would be. I’d heard that most dragon shifters were so strong they could carry a half-dozen humans, or more, on their backs if need be.

  Tom, who’d spent the afternoon visiting with a few acquaintances in the village, soon arrived, and after briefly speaking to Ryan, he grabbed the duffel bag and quilt for Willow, asking if she was ready to go. She said she would be in just a moment, then gestured for me to follow her into the sunroom, which I did. She spoke to me in a low voice so that Ryan and Tom couldn’t hear her out in the kitchen.

  “You wonder why your mother has always been the way she is. I want to tell you that she had a very hard life before you were ever born. She’s never told you about her parents, who are both long dead, and there’s a reason for this. She doesn’t like ever recalling them. They were horrible people who hurt her terribly. Her mother burned her skin with a cigarette lighter once, just to be cruel. Her father often told her that women only had one purpose, which was to be mothers, always subservient to their husbands. He also frequently mocked your mother, telling her that she could never accomplish anything in her life, because she was a female. She told him that this wasn’t true, that she was going to be rich and successful someday, that she was going to build an empire of some sort. She was going to be a businesswoman. Her father struck her, then kicked her in the stomach when she fell. So she left home to seek her fortune at sixteen and never looked back. I didn’t even need your saliva to see all this. You carry family secrets in those unusually-colored eyes of yours. The blue color that shows through when you tip your head down speaks the loudest.”

  My mom’s eyes were blue.

  Without waiting for any kind of a response from me, Willow wished me luck with Alex, glided from the room, and left the house with Tom. Feeling profoundly emotionally overwhelmed and drained all at the same time, I stepped out of the sunroom just in time to see Alex racing into the kitchen, laughing, with Jake on his heels.

  “Jake can’t catch me! Look how fast I am!”

  I looke
d at Alex, jaw slowly dropping open, but not because of how fast he was. Just in the time that Ryan and I had been talking to Willow, while Alex and Jake had been playing in the living room, Alex had grown several inches; I was sure of it. He now looked like a child at least four years old.

  CHAPTER 14

  I felt numb, shocked to the point of being unable to cry, speak, or do anything else. With his face completely drained of color, Ryan glanced at me before returning his gaze to Alex, who seemed oblivious to the change in his size and appearance.

  After zipping around the island with Jake twice, laughing, he ran up to Ryan and raised his arms. “Pick me up, Daddy!”

  Ryan did, still white-faced, and Alex began telling him how he and Jake had invented a new “ball throw” game, but soon, Alex trailed off, rubbing the side of his leg.

  “My legs hurt. They feel like a big monster just stretched them and stretched them.”

  Now, my numbness disappeared and my eyes filled with tears for the second time that evening. Hearing that his rapid growth was causing Alex physical pain had been too much for my heart to bear.

  Not wanting him to see me cry, I began padding out of the kitchen while Ryan hugged him, telling him that he was probably having growing pains because he was getting to be such a big, strong boy.

  Alex agreed that he was. “And, Daddy, I’m a hungry boy! I want hamburgers for dinner. I want three!”

  As usual, Ryan and I slept poorly that night, each of us tossing and turning. Before shutting off the light, we’d discussed what needed to be done to Bennett, and Ryan said he was going hold a meeting with his council members first thing in the morning after patrol. At the meeting, they’d discuss what might be the best way to go about killing Bennett, assessing the risks and odds of getting him alone to “assassinate” him versus attacking Shadow Fen to try to kill him and all of his men at the same time. Both options weren’t without easily foreseeable problems, such as the possibility of women and children being hurt or killed during an attack on Shadow Fen, which was apparently just a grouping of several dozen shacks and little huts. And as far as trying to isolate Bennett by luring him out of his village, if his men found out and came to his rescue before he could be killed, Ryan and his elite pack might find themselves suddenly outnumbered ten-to-one. Even in a direct attack on Shadow Fen, with everyone in Ryan’s elite pack and his secondary pack participating, they would be at somewhat of a disadvantage, even though they’d definitely have the upper hand as far as numbers. This was because the Graywolves weren’t just shifter wolves; they also possessed magical powers, such as the ability to shoot beams of light from their glowing red eyes. These beams of light, when aimed at an individual, had the same effect as a Taser gun, shocking the recipient with a powerful, painful current of electricity. The Graywolves were also able to literally blow enemies away with just a single fast exhalation of magical breath.