by Hettie Ivers
In actuality, she’d announced she was Dorothy, and that her hourglass was empty.
“She started doling out her final words of comically absurd life advice to me. It was all silly random, clichéd stuff. Like don’t bet on horses, and never trust a guy in a bowler hat—that sort of ridiculousness.”
Except for the part about Salvatella.
“What did she say about Salvatella, sweetheart?” Remy prodded.
“She said if I ever encountered anyone named Salvatella, I should be extremely … careful. I shouldn’t divulge any information to them about myself, or my family.”
“Smart mom,” Remy breathed.
“Lot smarter than her son,” Alex muttered in a scathing tone that was in such stark contrast to the gentle manner in which he was stroking my head, it caused me to pause in my tale.
“Go on, baby,” he urged with an apologetic kiss to my crown.
“Did she tell you anything else about them?” Remy prompted.
Yes. Though oddly, I realized now that the more critical, ominous warning about the Salvatella family was the one I’d accidentally gleaned from Mateus when I was nine.
“No,” I lied. “Just that I should never trust a Salvatella, no matter what. And she said if anyone by that name ever came looking for me, I should run like my life depended on it.”
Alex half-groaned, half-chuckled morosely, his lips pressing again and again to the top of my head. “Shame she never gave Raul that same advice.”
“Why?” I frowned. “What do you mean?”
It was Remy who answered. “Alex, don’t you think it’s time you told her what Raul did to betray our pack?”
Alex drew me closer, but didn’t respond.
“She needs to know,” Remy said. “About the Salvatella pack—why they’re our greatest enemy. We don’t have much time. If we’re going to seek Gabriel’s help in slowing her transformation, she has to understand the danger. She needs to know about how they murdered our mother.”
“Agreed,” Alcaeus’ bass resonated through the garden, bringing with it a smell I would’ve traded my kidney for as the crazy, mutated mutt blood within me commenced vibrating its own happy dance. It was the only thing that could’ve possibly distracted me from the bomb Remy had artlessly dropped.
“She does need to know,” Alcaeus concurred. “But not because we’d ever ask that weenie Gabe for his help.”
That was it. I needed … him. I needed Alcaeus!
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Alcaeus, she’s a Salvatella,” Alex lamented, his voice replete with hopelessness. “That fucking weenie is the only one who might be able to save her now that my blood is essentially destroying her.”
My blood needed Alcaeus! Holy shit, I was tripping on opiates …
“Ugh, geezus … you want a drink with that martyrdom you’re choking down over there, big Alpha? Remy, how could you have raised such a pussy drama queen?”
“Al, I don’t …” Remy faltered, “I don’t know that you fully grasp what’s happening here.”
“On the contrary.” Alcaeus chuckled, his blessed scent drawing ever closer to me. And my needy blood. “As usual, it appears I’m the only one who does grasp what the fuck is happening here. This crazy shitstorm keeps getting better and better, too.”
I inhaled greedily as his scent neared. It was the smell of warmth and comfort and … home? Though not the scent of any home I’d actually ever known. My heart, which was already beating too fast to be safe, ticked up another notch.
“I’m glad the impossible irony of my wolf sniffing out and becoming infatuated with the progeny of my greatest enemy has proven so entertaining for you,” Alex groused. “Come to gloat over the hilarious karmic genius of it all?”
“As much as I’d love to,” Alcaeus rejoined jovially, “it so happens not everything is all about you, little brother. How’s my best friend, Milena, doing?”
“She’s running out of time.” It was Kai who cut to the point. “What do you know about what’s happening to her?”
“Well, I know at least a bit of the history behind the werelock blood she’s generating. And I believe I have some sense of its intended purpose.”
“And what is that?” Remy asked.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Alex snorted. “To destroy me, no doubt.”
“Would you quit the histrionics and violin music for five fucking minutes?” Alcaeus derided. “The true irony here is how you can be at once so brilliant and yet remain a virtual idiot.”
Alex released an extended growl. But not in response to Alcaeus’ sharp words, I realized, as his heavenly scent came close enough to me that I could feel it … in my blood.
Whoa Nelly! I sensed his nearness, felt his internal warmth and formidable masculine energy beckoning me now as well. Even as I lay so comfortably intertwined with Alex.
“How would you know its intended purpose?” Kai questioned.
“Well,” Alcaeus replied, “remember that innocent-looking little souvenir I brought back from Asunción in 1869?”
“’Course.”
“Turns out maybe the joke’s been on us all this time.”
“Huh …” was Kai’s non-reply.
“Feel like reliving 1822 with me?” Alcaeus asked.
“You giving me a choice?” Kai quipped.
“Shoot the shit about your old man glory days some other time!” Alex grumbled. “Do you or don’t you know something about Milena’s blood?”
“I’ll explain what I can. But I need to try to slow down her shift first.”
“You? What could you possibly do? Not even I can access her mind at this point.”
“Alex, please?” Kai appealed, sounding inexplicably hopeful and encouraged at the prospect of Alcaeus being able to assist me. “Let him try. There’s no harm in that. He was Alpha once, after all.”
“Not of the Salvatella pack,” Alex grunted dismissively, before growling again as Alcaeus’ scent wafted closer.
“Quit acting so creepy possessive; I only want to talk to her. It’s not like I’m gonna try to slip my dick in her right here and now in front of you.”
“Fuck off before I kill you!” Alex threatened, snarling and gnashing his teeth.
Alcaeus guffawed. “Sorry, Milena,” he apologized to me rather than his brother. “That was a bad joke at my brother’s expense. My apologies if I offended you. How’re you holding up there, sweetheart?”
I breathed deeply, inhaling Alcaeus’ delightful aroma and instinctively gravitating closer to its origin as I attempted to lift my head from Alex’s chest. But Alex’s big palm held steady, imprisoning my cheek against him, where I now heard his heart galloping faster than ever.
“Hurts like a bitch the first time, huh?” Alcaeus commiserated, his voice and magnetic energy almost directly above me. “And that temporary blindness bit that comes with the eyes first shifting is so stupid, right? Totally melodramatic and unnecessary part of the transition if you ask me.”
My blind eyes misted over at his infectious levity. I wanted to laugh and cry at once, afraid to hope he might be able to help me, while I vacillated between the impulse to hug him and a growing compulsion to sniff and lick his whole face.
“Why … why do you smell so good to me?” My voice sounded quiet and strange to my ears beneath the pounding rhythm of Alex’s heart.
“I showered this morning,” he joked, causing me to giggle and then worry my lip when the laughter made my rib cage ache. The morphine was wearing off.
“Milena, I think I might be able to help slow your transition, but I need your permission to try, okay?”
I nodded as much as Alex’s hold on my head would allow, trying to steal longer whiffs of Alcaeus as inconspicuously as possible.
“You should understand, it’s normal for the process to be quite painful when a human first shifts into a wolf. Historically, only a miniscule percentage of humans ever survived it. Oftentimes, even half-weres born of a werewolf and human union were unable
to survive their initial change.”
Despite the grim prospects Alcaeus was relaying, I was grateful someone was finally bothering to explain the situation to me. A wave of calm came over me as his hand casually brushed against my calf, his fingers skimming innocently over my jean-clad lower leg to rest lightly atop my shin, earning him another warning growl from Alex.
He didn’t remove his hand.
“Traditionally, the change will occur over the course of a week. So you’re transforming uncommonly fast right now, honey.” Alcaeus’ tone was so forthright and sincere, the energy rolling off of him so effusive with concern, and yet fully composed and authoritative. It was precisely the balm my psyche needed. I was captivated.
“Will you give me permission to enter your mind if I am able to, Milena? To do what is necessary in order to slow down your change and keep you safe?”
I nodded minutely again within Alex’s increasingly proprietary embrace.
“Are you certain?” Alcaeus checked, his tone uncharacteristically austere. “Because I don’t believe it will work unless you’re able to genuinely trust me. Do you understand?”
I inhaled his alluring scent as I contemplated whether or not I could trust him. Then I realized I somehow already did. Not simply because I’d gone crazy and was desperate to be able to count on someone who might be able to help me. Or because it made any other rational sense I could pinpoint, but because trust was often an instinctive response. And right now Alcaeus smelled like someone I needed—wanted to put my faith in.
Before I’d even responded in the affirmative, I felt the subtlest shift within my drugged, pain-laden system. “Yes,” I confirmed aloud.
My heart stopped hurting.
“For most humans,” Alcaeus expounded, “the change is initiated through the venom of a werewolf bite infecting them. In your case, we have another distinct anomaly in that it appears to be your own innate, self-preservation response to your near death that has triggered your latent werelock gene’s emergence.”
Ever so slowly, my heart rate was decreasing now. Alex’s thundered louder than ever in my ear, even as he released a weighty sigh of relief.
“Then it would seem as if Alex’s blood essentially irritated it,” Alcaeus theorized humorously, “compounding the problem by accelerating your system’s rate of mutation, causing you to generate new cells faster than your still mostly human body is presently equipped to handle.”
My bones no longer felt like they were disintegrating. My hope soared. Alex was breathing harder now, his chest rising and falling rapidly beneath me. Remy whispered something to Kai in Portuguese.
“Part of how we became a superior race is that through our magic we werelocks have perfected the process of assisting a human’s initial shift so that it’s slower and far less, if at all, painful.” Alcaeus’ warm palm drifted from my denim-encased shin to gently bracelet my exposed ankle.
The skin-on-skin contact sent a pulse of pure bliss coursing through me, obliterating any remaining apprehension I might’ve been harboring. A rumble of dissatisfaction rolled through Alex’s chest.
“Because unlike one born a werewolf or of partial were descent, whose body is naturally stronger, the human body isn’t equipped to handle the initial change, and has to catch up. If your regeneration and healing abilities lag behind the rate at which you shift for the first time, the results aren’t often pretty.”
My head had begun buzzing with that now-familiar healing sensation, pleasant tingles running down my spine and spreading out in all directions as warmth embraced and soothed my recently abused insides. I couldn’t help but emit a peaceful moan as my body fully relaxed, all of my pain vanishing until only the strange vibrating sensation in my blood remained; irrefutable evidence I would never again be the same human girl I’d been when I’d arrived in Brazil.
As my tension dissipated, I sensed Alex’s spike, his muscles tightening, his body growing more rigid beneath mine.
“Impossible,” he hissed.
“Thank fuck!” Remy exhaled in euphoric relief.
“Had it been the wolf venom from a member of our pack which infected you,” Alcaeus proceeded smoothly, his deep voice lulling every part of me until I melted, weightless, against Alex, “any one of us possessing the wherewithal might’ve easily controlled your shift. And had you been a half-were prompted to shift, any higher-ranking werelock within our pack could’ve guided your transformation—provided, of course, your bloodline was one within our purview. However, as it turns out, your blood is quite special, Milena.”
“Fucking inconceivable,” Alex voiced in disbelief to my crown. “There was no possible entry! How the hell did you get in? I tried everything!”
“Except asking permission,” Remy pointed out. I could hear the shit-eating grin that had undoubtedly stretched his features.
“Fuck you, you never asked either!”
“Christ, what does it even matter now? Just drop it!” Kai shocked the hell out of me by openly scolding Remy and Alex as if they were children. “The important thing is that one of us is able to save Milena’s life now without having to hand her over to Gabriel Salvatella.”
“Watch yourself!” Alex reprimanded Kai sharply. “Don’t ever think to presume I’ve lost sight of what matters most here.”
Kai mumbled what sounded like a startlingly half-assed apology to his Alpha. Remy simply told Alex to blow it out his ass.
Tension thickened around me. I was so calm and felt so delightful all over, though, that I didn’t relish the notion of Alex or anyone else being upset. I decided I’d take Alcaeus in my system over opiates any day.
Extending an arm above my head, I laid my palm against Alex’s burning cheekbone and slurred lazily, “S’okay. Don’t be upset. S’all good now.”
His hand that had been cradling my head moved to cup my hand against his cheek. He turned his head and pressed his lips into my palm.
“Mine,” he growled into my palm.
I yelped and giggled. Not because of Alex—but because Alcaeus chose that very moment to tickle the bottom of my bare foot. When had I lost my sandals?
“I believe that remains to be seen,” Alcaeus appraised, causing Alex’s chest to rumble and rattle with suppressed violence beneath my cheekbone.
The air space surrounding me became surfeited with friction. A major power struggle was brewing. I could feel it.
“She. Is. Mine.”
Twisted as it was, as Alex’s fierce decree reverberated through me, it caused my stomach to flutter and my vibrating blood to rush with delicious excitement.
“So you finally acknowledge your desire to claim her as your true mate then?” Alcaeus challenged. “Even with her alleged Salvatella heritage?”
An anguished, irascible groan sounded deep within Alex’s chest. It was curiously reminiscent of the type of noise my mom might’ve made upon denying herself a particularly decadent slice of chocolate cake she desperately craved.
“No,” Alex finally rasped. “She’s not. She … can’t be.” A cross between a whimper and a snarl escaped him as he warred with himself.
Alcaeus hummed in consideration before replying with an emotionless, “Wrong answer. I’m disappointed in you, little brother.”
“Fuck you! I just … I don’t know, okay? I only know I … want her. And I’m keeping her!”
“That remains to be seen,” Alcaeus repeated coldly. “And you do know. My condolences to your wolf for having to contend with your unfailing idiocy.”
I felt my brow wrinkle at Alcaeus’ assessment. For as sure as I was breathing, I knew Alex was in truth exerting considerable effort in order to so stubbornly subvert his wolf’s inherent desire for me. Somehow I could actually feel how much it was distressing his wolf right now.
And while Alex the man’s steadfast rejection shouldn’t have hurt me so much, it did. For the first time his rebuff cut deeper than I would’ve believed possible, in fact.
He was consistently rejecting me for thin
gs beyond my control. First my fragile humanity had offended him, and now my supernatural mutt blood wasn’t good enough either. Yet he professed to want me still. Just not as his equal.
That distinction wasn’t lost on me. I reminded myself I didn’t want him either—that I harbored no desire whatsoever to be tethered to that asshole as a mate. I didn’t even like him! It was only my silly, schoolgirl ego he’d rankled. Nothing more.
I was so consumed with my thoughts, it belatedly registered that my blood was no longer vibrating with anything remotely close to the level of intensity it had been a minute ago.
“As I was saying, your new blood is quite unique, Milena,” Alcaeus said, his thumb idly circling my inner anklebone as he recaptured my attention. “Terribly rare and long-coveted, in fact. It possesses a transmuted form of magic many of our kind believed had been lost forever. And it belongs to you now. It’s your rightful inheritance.”
Unbidden, the memory of Mateus’ hateful words to my mother flooded me.
“The heart of this whole Salvatella blood curse resides in that little witch sleeping upstairs you want to protect so much!”
Alcaeus’ thumb stilled. I tried to banish the unwelcome childhood memory of the night Mateus had shown up out of nowhere and forever shattered the happy little broken family that Raul, my mom and I had once been.
My mom had threatened to lodge a knife in his heart that night. The night he’d waltzed in and taken Raul from us. And for months and years afterward, whenever I’d cried myself to sleep missing my brother, I had relived that night in my mind and wished that she’d done as she’d threatened.
It dawned on me now that Mateus had condemned and despised me for my apparently cursed blood. Rejected me as his child for circumstances beyond my control.
Much like Alex.
“But,” Alcaeus resumed delicately, “unique power can be its own liability. Unless you know how to properly wield it and protect yourself from those who would seek to take it from you. And unfortunately, the warlock’s basic nature tends to be rather power hungry—often to the point of usurping the wolf’s innate drive to protect its own, as we’ve seen werelocks turn against and kill their closest family members in their blind avarice to obtain a rare power.”