Werewolf U

by Brenna Lyons

  Roberto showed Marcus in and closed the door behind him.

  One look at the younger wolf gave testament to the fact that Marcus's evening had been no less stressful than his own.

  Marcus took a step toward the desk and held out a small wooden chest to him. "My sincerest apologies, Alpha."

  He took it carefully, set it on his desk, then opened it. Inside were another three Hunter's Fangs, along with what appeared to be a similar weapon, shaped as a set of brass knuckles with a smaller blade at the far end.

  "Dear Goddess." Sebastian choked the words out, past the lump in his throat and the stomach acid rising.

  Marcus went to his knees. "My daughter assures me that is all of them, but I will have everything of my father's searched again to make sure there are not more hiding places we have missed. I have also alerted my sister to do the same."

  He raised his face to look at Sebastian. "She didn't know what they were. By the Night Mother, she could have killed herself with a nick of the blade." He took in a deep but halting breath. "Christiana gave me everything and let me determine what was a hunter's weapon and what was not. I fear other young wolves may not know any more than Christiana did. Who knows how many are in danger and don't know it."

  Sebastian nodded wearily. "I have already told Pietro and the other Alpha Maestros to have a required class about it this week, and I will be making another proclamation on the matter."

  "We await your judgment, Alpha."

  I don't have the heart to kill them. Admitting it made him feel weak.

  "Take your daughter home. Search for more weapons. Spread the word that anyone caught with Hunter's Fangs, from this day forth, will face death for it. My daughter will live. So will yours. This time." He let the threat hang between them.

  "There will never be another incident," Marcus vowed. "Thank you, Alpha. Your consideration is more than I dared hope for."

  "Go on. It has been a long night for all of us."

  He scrambled to his feet, bowed, then made his way to the door. The nod he sent before he walked out let Sebastian know he'd won the loyalty of Marcus's line, as long as they remembered this day.

  Chapter Five

  Samara shifted in bed, stretching her arms and back. She went still at the feeling of bare skin under her hand. Not her own skin but rather that of someone else in bed with her. The crisp hairs and ridges of muscle attested that it was a man.

  This is new. A twitter of laughter stuck in her throat and she swallowed it down.

  Okay. Before I panic, retrace my movements. How did I get here?

  Christiana attacked me with a dagger. Those gorgeous brothers who live downstairs showed up. Jason wrapped his shirt around my arm.

  Everything after that was a fevered blur. A not unpleasant one though. Someone was bathing her.

  With my clothes still on? No, not my clothes, but clothes.

  Touching led to kissing. The delicious feeling of two men pressing on either side of her, their cocks hard and long against her skin.

  Through clothing. Samara corrected herself.

  Movement on both sides of Samara prompted a gasp from her. Dual groans answered her.

  Lips pressed to the back of her shoulder and Samara trembled in arousal. A second set of lips nestled to her throat.

  "W-wait," she pleaded.

  They both pulled back slightly, and Samara focused on the one in front of her.

  "James?" She vaguely remembered learning their names before she passed out. Were they the ones who bathed her? Why wasn't she in a hospital?

  "And Jason." The one behind her grumbled his response, his voice husky in what she didn't doubt was arousal.

  The bed was nearly as wide as the one in her rooms, but this room wasn't hers. Instead of dark, masculine colors, it was decorated in shades of pale peach, blue, green, and butter yellow with almond accents for the trim. There were blinds on the windows instead of curtains.

  "Samara?" James prompted her.

  "Where am I?"

  "The school clinic."

  Okay. Not their room, but still… The clinic allowed this?

  James cupped her cheek in one large, rough hand. "It looks like your fever has broken."

  "So…um…you won't have to bathe me again." She only just stopped herself from making it a question. It shouldn't be a question.

  He smiled. "You remember that?"

  Her cheeks flushed in heat. Oh, yes. She remembered it.

  James raised one hand in a Scout promise motion. "I promise we won't bathe you again, unless you want us to."

  Jason chuckled darkly, and Samara's nipples came to hard points. Memories of one of them stroking them made them harder.

  Jason purred in her ear. "Oh, she wants."

  Samara straightened, certain she should be offended at their familiar address. "I don't know precisely what happened when you bathed me, but I know I wasn't myself."

  James raised one eyebrow and scanned a blatant look down her body between them. "Are you now?"

  "Am I what?"

  "Are you yourself?"

  His teasing tone irritated her. "What kind of question is that? Of course I am."

  "Really? Because your scent, those perky little nipples, your eyes and lips… All of them say you would like to see where a night with us would go."

  The protest stuck in her throat. Damn him! I do want to know.

  I don't have to tell him that.

  A knock at the door saved her from figuring out how to answer him.

  "Come in." James shouted out the invitation as if he had not a care in the world.

  Samara stared at him, shocked to wide-mouthed silence. They thought they were just going to stay in bed with her?

  Two men in white, medical coats bustled in, carrying an armload of supplies each.

  "Ah, excellent. You're awake." The dark-haired one punctuated the statement with a glance up and down her body.

  "And her fever has broken," Jason added.

  "Wonderful." The doctor placed the jars and bottles he was carrying on a rolling tray. "My name is Benjamin. That is Steven." He motioned toward the other doctor.

  "Thank you both." Samara searched for how to phrase her question. "But…ah…" Sure. How do I say it? Why aren't you reacting to these two men sharing a bed with me?

  Benjamin stopped to stare at her. "But?"

  "Nothing."

  "You really should thank James and Jason." Steven's comment sounded like a correction. "Their early care and their speed in getting you here made our job much easier."

  Samara noted James's smirk out of the corner of her eye. She cleared her throat. "Thank you." It wasn't quite as cool as she wanted to make it, but Samara guessed cool would be seen as rude. They did, after all, save her life.

  Benjamin reached out and lifted her injured arm.

  James and Jason tensed so abruptly, the hair on the back of her scalp stood on end.

  Steven sighed and shook his head."Stand down, men."

  They did so, but only minutely. Samara took a long, slow breath in response. Why did nothing they did make sense to her?

  Benjamin ignored them. He snipped the bandage carefully, then unwrapped it. Samara strained to get a look at the damage, but Benjamin turned her arm away.

  Maybe to get better light?

  Steven went to work, wiping her arm with cloths that smelled of isopropyl alcohol. He folded them carefully before dropping them into a kidney bowl. On the third drop, Samara noticed the yellow-brown stains.

  Brown could be dried blood, but yellow is bad news. "What is that? The yellow stains?"

  Steven didn't hesitate. "The blade introduced an infection into your system, but it's well on its way to being healed now."

  "Infection? How long was I out?"

  "A little over a day," Benjamin responded.

  A day? "Isn't that fast to get an infection from a wound?"

  Steven shook his head. "We didn't wait for the infection to reach your bloodstream and go systemic, as
some doctors might. As soon as your body reacted with heat, swelling, and pus formed, we started treatment. That happened very quickly."

  "Oh." Something told her there was more, but she couldn't figure out what to ask. I should find out how severe it is. "I don't feel stitches." There was no way she hadn't needed them.

  Benjamin took that question. "We had to leave it open to drain, but it looks like we can put butterfly tapes on it today."

  She winced. "I guess I'll have a scar then."

  "A small one."

  James grumbled a curse. Jason settled a hand on her shoulder. There was something comforting in both of their reactions. She found herself paying more attention to them than she did to the doctors working on her.

  At last, Benjamin wrapped a fresh bandage around her arm and secured it. "The bandage will need to be changed twice a day. You will have oral and topical medications. You will be on bed rest for a week or so. We will send you back to your rooms with instructions for Marietta."

  Steven took over. "Would you like James and Jason to take you back to your rooms, or should I call Marietta to come collect you?"

  "James and Jason." She studiously avoided looking at them. I just don't want Marietta hovering. It was as good an excuse as any other and Samara vowed to stick to it.

  "Very well." Steven piled used supplies onto a metal tray. "Marietta will have a meal waiting for you when you arrive."

  Benjamin passed him on his way to the door. "I will order the car to the side door for you."

  "Car?" Samara protested. "It's only the other side of campus." She could walk there in a matter of ten or fifteen minutes.

  "Bed rest." Jason forced the words out through the end of a yawn.

  James snuggled closer. "I could carry you instead."

  That sounds waaaay too appealing. "The car will be fine, thanks."

  His expression was nothing short of mock disappointment.

  Any more cheese on that and he would be pouting.

  The doctors left the room with what looked suspiciously like imperfectly masked grins on their faces.

  James didn't waste any time. He vaulted from the bed, then strode across the room in nothing but a pair of jeans.

  Over deliciously tight buns. I bet he's commando.

  He collected a plush blue robe and headed back with it, giving her an enticing view of his sculpted abs and the outline of his cock.

  "Maybe I do want to know." Samara considered the idea carefully. College is supposed to be the time you experiment, right? And it's not like I can get pregnant from it. Why shouldn't I find out for myself if they are as good as their promises—and my vague memories of last night—attest they are?

  James stopped short, shooting her a questioning look.

  Time to go for broke. "Maybe I do want to know where a night with the two of you would go."

  His cock lengthened and thickened behind his jeans, fighting containment therein.

  Jason laid a kiss on her neck that made her shiver in delight. "That can be arranged."

  She sighed. "If Marietta ever lets me out of her sight again."

  James grinned widely. "Marietta likes us."

  Samara doubted she liked anyone that much.

  * * * *

  Jason rearranged his cock, cursing the tight jeans for the third time since awakening in bed with Samara. She didn't look in his direction, but her sudden intake of breath said she was well aware of what he was doing.

  "One of the servants mentioned a back way into the dorms?" she hinted.

  James shot a look of confusion her way. "There is, but why would you want to use it?"

  She fidgeted for a moment, then stiffened. "It's just… You carrying me in. Everyone watching." Samara shrugged.

  "I could see how that might be embarrassing," Jason admitted.

  The time would come when Samara would know there was nothing shameful or weak about being carried by her mates, but that day had not arrived.

  James tipped his head and ordered the driver to pull around to the back. "We can take the servants' elevator up."

  "There's an elevator?" She was probably wondering why she had to walk the stairs all the time.

  "You can use it anytime you wish." James waved toward the approaching door.

  If she's going to, she might as well know the facts about it. "It's a freight elevator and not all that comfortable."

  "Or fast." James crinkled his nose in distaste. "You could walk the stairs faster than the beast moves, but if you have an injury or are very tired, it is available to you."

  "Sounds good." Samara sounded tired.

  Jason wondered if she might beg off the night with them, out of sheer exhaustion and the need to heal.

  The car pulled to a halt and James moved to pick her up again. Jason shot him a look of frustration, and his brother relented, probably realizing that he was monopolizing carrying their mate and leaving Jason to be the fifth wheel.

  Samara fit in his arms like she was born to be there, and Jason memorized every sensation as he made his way through the door James opened for them and then into the elevator.

  James hadn't been exaggerating about the speed of this ancient piece of junk. Though it was meticulously maintained and smooth-running, it could lose to the mythical tortoise.

  Jason didn't mind that, since it meant all the more time with Samara in his arms. She didn't question why he was carrying her…or why James had earlier, though it seemed the hierarchy of wolves within the pack was still alien to her.

  Yet another thing we have to teach her. He didn't begrudge her not knowing. Every piece of information she was lacking granted himself and James the time to teach it to her.

  The elevator opened, and James led the way out, then to the hall doorway. It wouldn't be appropriate to cut through Marietta's rooms, so they went the long way, down the hall and into the front door to Samara's room.

  Marietta was there, waving them in and giving useless commands.

  Does she think we won't show Samara the care of putting her in bed and tucking her in?

  The servant chattered on and on.

  "I will have your meal brought up immediately."

  "Let me fluff the pillows for you."

  "You're so cold! I'll bring another quilt."

  "No, don't you dare get up! I will help you to the toilet, if you must go."

  That was where Samara drew the line, her Alpha personality coming out to play. And it was glorious.

  "I am more than capable of walking to the bathroom."

  "Benjamin said—"

  "He is as overprotective as you are."

  "If I relent and let you go by yourself, will you get into bed and rest for a while?"

  Jason swallowed a snort of laughter. He never would have guessed Marietta could be so flummoxed. And by an injured Alpha who doesn't know her own power and is unsteady on her feet.

  Samara seemed to consider that. "Yes, but you should know I invited James and Jason to come back after dinner for a movie tonight."

  Marietta moved her lips as if to talk, then clamped them shut into a thin line. She nodded, then waved Samara toward the bathroom.

  Once she disappeared inside, James let loose a laugh, muffled into his hand.

  Marietta turned on them, a fierce warning glare on her face.

  Jason cracked a smile sure to infuriate her.

  "She needs her rest," she whispered.

  "We know more than a few ways to help her sleep." James's falsely innocent answer wouldn't fool a complete stranger, let alone Samara's servant.

  "She enjoyed sleeping between us." Jason hurried to offer an explanation before the old she-wolf decided to gut his brother.

  Whatever she might have said next short-circuited at the sound of Samara flushing the toilet.

  Samara left the bathroom wearing a long, silken sleeping gown, having shed the medical gown and robe in the other room. Their mate made her way to the bed, then slipped under the covers, revealing an enticing peek at her legs in t
he process.

  Jason salivated at the thought of touching her again.

  "Well, now," Marietta said. "If you two don't mind… Samara should eat and rest. That way she won't fall asleep during your movie."

  The need to protest rose up strong. He swallowed it at Samara's wave and smile.

  "Eight?" Her suggested time confirmed that Samara ate an early dinner, in the American style.

  Jason's heart lightened at the invitation. "Not a minute later. You have my vow."

  James executed a formal bow. "Until tonight."

  * * * *

  Samara watched them leave, the slow simmer warming her belly. And below.

  Marietta disappeared for a moment, then returned with a tray of soup and crackers and a plate of fruit. She set it on the table beside the bed and laid a large napkin across Samara's lap.

  She'd hoped for something more substantial and her stomach growled in complaint.

  As if she'd spoken the thought aloud, Marietta answered it. "Benjamin says you can have a full dinner, if you keep this down."

  Don't rock the boat. She's not complaining about James and Jason spending time in my room. "Makes sense. Take things slowly. Right?"

  Marietta seemed surprised at the capitulation. She sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed Samara's hair. "This has been a strain on you, I know. Why don't we do this? You eat. After that, I will help you get a nice hot bath, we'll change your dressing, and you can rest until dinner."

  Samara leaned closer to her and gave Marietta a hug. If questioned, she couldn't have recounted why she chose to do it, but it felt right.

  Marietta rocked her for a moment, then settled Samara back into the pillows with what appeared to be a heartfelt smile. "Now, let's get some food in you."

  * * * *

  Samara watched the line of servants carrying flowers, stuffed animals, and boxes, her eyes wide. "What is all of this?"

  One of them turned and offered a stiff bow. "Well wishes for the injured Alpha."

  "But… But I don't even know this many people." That wasn't an exaggeration.

  Marietta laughed. "They know you. It is our way to offer comfort when someone is injured or ill."

  Our way. That reminds me, I have questions for her about that subject.