by Brenna Lyons
Eva smiled. "Close. More than two and a half millennia ago, we started as two separate groups. One was from Eastern Europe—close friends and sometimes kin to the Romani, actually. The other was from mainland Greece."
Samara settled in to hear the rest. This was the most information she'd ever gotten about their people.
"The early ones… They were stupid and shortsighted. Rather than working together, they went to war. It took more than four centuries to resolve their differences. In the end, the leaders of both sides sat down and formed a pact and a line of succession."
"Succession? How does that work?" If she was an Alpha, did that mean she was in the line of succession somewhere?
"Well, the first two fought for the position. We've rarely fought since then, unless someone went rogue or individuals argued the line of succession. The rules put in place made sure it was a one-on-one fight. There would be no more wars over leadership."
As there were rules when I had to fight Christiana to confirm my place as Alpha. She nodded. "Much better than wars."
"It is." Eva paused for a moment. "Since then, the rules handle peaceful succession…usually. If the current leader has a son or sons, the eldest takes leadership. The younger brother takes leadership, if the eldest dies without heirs or without adult heirs."
"Sounds pretty misogynistic to me. What about his daughters? Or if he only has daughters?"
"A daughter can only take leadership if her brothers have died or if she has no brothers. She shares the leadership with her mate or mates, as a male would with his mate. However, the ruling family switches to the family of the mates."
"Because…she becomes part of that family when she marries into it." Samara was guessing, but it seemed a logical assumption.
Eva nodded. "It's really quite brilliant. The leader's family changes with some regularity…at least once a century or so. I admit that the original rules called for arranged marriages between the sides to force intermarriage of the Alpha class, to facilitate the two factions passing leadership back and forth. They have so intermarried now, no one has to trace back lineage to make sure it happens. We truly see ourselves as one people now.
"It's still…traditional for Alphas to mate with Alphas, but I suppose that makes sense, all things considered. Strong-willed individuals will tend to choose mates who match them in temperament, it seems."
Samara dissected what she'd heard so far, certain she was missing something basic. She said mate or mates, didn't she? "And our…people are good with the idea of polyamory or polygamy?"
"To be honest, it has always been encouraged for Alpha females. I'm sure James and Jason would be crushed if you ultimately chose only one of them and rejected the other. Their bond as brothers might not survive the loss."
She realized she was gaping and forced her mouth shut. It took a moment to finagle her way to speech. "Really?"
Eva nodded sagely. "Absolutely."
"Why?"
"Have you seen yourself?" Eva quipped in return.
Samara nudged Eva's arm with her toes. "Not that."
Eva turned to her side, staring up at Samara with a teasing smile. "Then what?"
"Why was a threesome encouraged?"
"Some say it was to strengthen the bloodlines, but that's obviously bullshit. One brother would be as effective as both.
"Others say it was to protect the female better. That one has a ring of truth to it. It also ensured she had a chance to reproduce, in case one of the brothers died."
The thought of one of her two brothers dying sent a shaft of fear through Samara. She pushed the thought away and tried to focus elsewhere. Eva continued on before Samara could question why the female couldn't simply marry again.
"I prefer the other reason people speculate on."
"And that is?" Something told her she had to know.
"An Alpha female is so strong and sexual, it takes two males to sate her and match her strength."
Samara swallowed hard.
"And I do wish you would get on with it."
"With what?" Her voice sounded strange to her ears, her head spinning as it was. Everyone expects me to be sexual. They expect me to take two men to bed.
Eva raised an eyebrow and waited for Samara to catch up with the flow of conversation.
"I think it's safe to say we've gotten on with quite a bit." Samara smiled at the memories, then chuckled.
"Yes, but when are you going to get serious?"
"Serious like what? Going steady?" Just the thought of James or Jason sexing up another woman made Samara see red. She would kick whichever of them did it so hard in the balls, he would need surgery to right it.
"More serious than that."
"What? Marriage? Now?" Now I know she's joking. We've known each other all of a week.
"Ask James and Jason. They'll answer any questions you ask. For now, I think I heard Marietta moving around in her rooms. She'll be in here to draw your bath any time."
"I guess I don't need a robe."
Eva laughed. "In this group? Hardly. Though James and Jason would be more than a little jealous if you paraded around naked in front of other men."
"Should I be jealous that they did in front of you?"
"Of course not. I have no interest in them. Neither would Marietta. But any male would have an interest in you. Few would be brave enough to chance James's and Jason's reactions to it, but they would have an interest."
Samara pushed to her feet, scowling at the bandage on her arm. "Can't I ditch this yet? The cut is nearly healed."
"When we take the bandage off, the ointment is still yellow-brown."
Samara waved her on, unsure what that meant.
"That means the medicine is still leeching toxins out of the wound. When it comes off the same color it went on, we can stop wrapping it. Doctors' orders."
She sighed. "Doctors' orders." Samara was starting to loathe doctors.
* * * *
Jason had half his attention on the coach and the other half on Samara. She entered the Alpha's box, Marietta on one side and Eva on the other. They settled her in what appeared to be a comfortable, overstuffed chair, and Marietta spread a light quilt over her lap.
"Trudale," the coach snapped.
He winced and focused on him. "Sir?"
"Nice of you to finally join us. Have you got your mind on the game, or should I bench you now?"
Though it was unlikely to happen—James and Jason were the cornerstones of the playbook—it was tempting to push the old wolf to benching him. Jason would love to be in the Alpha box, tending to Samara. A glare from James set him straight.
"I'm in." Maybe I can impress Samara with my prowess on the field.
"Good. If that changes, get your ass off my fucking field."
"Understood." It was. One thing wolves didn't fuck around with was any sort of contest or challenge. Even an intramural football match.
Jason threw himself into the game, working as a team with James as they had since they were pups. Within the first ten minutes, they were five points ahead. Wolf sports were fast-moving.
By fifteen minutes in, Jason was so immersed in the game he nearly missed the disaster unfolding around him.
One of the strikers on the opposing team was a first-year wolf, still hot-blooded and easy to anger. The stopper on their team had stymied every move toward the goal, pissing the young player off completely.
So much so that the youngster shifted mid-stride. He got tangled in his uniform, which pushed him further over the edge. In moments, he was snapping and snarling.
Jason shot a horrified look at James, and they turned toward the stands together, just as the ref threw a flag on the play.
Samara was on her feet, trembling hard, wide-eyed and focused on the rampaging wolf. In a heartbeat, that changed. She crumpled, and Eva and Marietta eased her down into the chair.
James pivoted as if he couldn't decide whether to gut the oaf or to go to their mate.
Jason didn't hesit
ate. He took off at a run, vaulted the fence into the stands, and headed for Samara. Behind him, he heard James following his lead.
Good. I won't have to smack him around for ignoring our mate's need.
He pushed Marietta away, then cupped Samara's pale cheek in one hand. "Samara? Samara, answer me."
She recovered slowly. Marietta produced a cool glass of water and Samara drank some.
"Trudale, in or out?" Brand shouted up to them, probably relaying the question for the coach.
Brand was a mountain of a wolf, and his rumbling voice would have made a lesser wolf cower. Jason and his twin were not lesser wolves.
James answered before he could, and in roughly the words Jason would have chosen himself. "Out. Tell coach we are removing ourselves from his fucking field for the day."
"Got it." There was a note of amusement in that.
Jason laid a kiss on Samara's forehead. "Let's get you back to your room."
"We're not…" She motioned vaguely toward mid-field. "We're not going to pretend that never happened, are we?"
"No I assure you we are not."
"When we get back to the room, ask your questions." James sighed. "We will answer them if we can."
"Okay."
Jason scooped her up in the quilt and started walking. Usually, James got to Samara first. This time, the honor was his.
* * * *
"He shifted? On. The. Field!" Sebastian rubbed at the tense muscles in his neck, which heralded a vicious headache gaining steam.
"He's a late bloomer." Pietro tried desperately to explain the latest fiasco. "Thomas didn't shift for the first time until two years ago. He lacks the control most first-year students possess. He hasn't had time to develop it."
Sebastian buried his head in his hands.
"This…could be a good thing," Pietro offered carefully.
Sebastian stared at his oldest friend in disbelief. "Good? What is wrong with you? How could this possibly be good?"
Pietro crossed the room and squatted next to him. "We never decided how to introduce Samara to her true heritage. We've coasted along, chancing her conceiving to James and Jason or coming to her senses with a mouthful of their blood before she finds out who and what she is. This may not be the way we would have preferred to broach the subject, but it's done now. Now she knows. We move forward."
"Or she runs screaming in the other direction." I'm stating the obvious, but it needs to be said.
"To where? Our information says she's estranged from her mother."
"Samara maintains a relationship with her stepfather. She speaks to him on the phone, sends him letters, and receives them in return. You know as well as I do that Samara lived her last year of high school with the man, after she left Florence's home."
Pietro nodded. "Even if Samara returns to him, she cannot discuss this with him. Eventually, the need for information will bring her home to us."
"Maybe." Probably. Damn Pietro for always being right.
"Of course, you could be the father she runs to."
It was tempting, but… "No. That goes according to plan." Does anything? The odds seemed to be against it, at this point.
* * * *
Samara was no more certain what to ask them when Jason tucked her into bed than she'd been at the stadium. Or on the trip back to the dorm, for that matter. Her mind had been in a flat spin since the moment she'd seen a player turn into a wolf on the field.
James and Jason stood at the foot of the bed, waiting patiently for her to find her voice. At a loss for something better to do or say, she motioned for a moment of peace.
"When you're ready," Jason replied.
"Take your time." James's answer overlapped with Jason's.
What should I ask? Hundreds of questions circled in her mind.
Keep it simple. Ask the most basic questions and let the answers to those lead you into more complex subjects. "I saw him turn into a wolf," she blurted out. Okay. Not a question.
James nodded. "Yes. You did."
Samara stamped down the urge to laugh. She realized she'd secretly hoped they would say she hadn't seen anything of the sort, that she'd been hallucinating.
Ask a question. "And precisely how did he do that?"
James and Jason shot each other a look she couldn't interpret.
"If you lie to me—"
"Never," Jason promised.
James scrubbed a hand across his mouth. "That's what our kind are, Samara. Wolves."
Words stuck in her suddenly-dry throat. "Our kind?" He might mean himself and Jason. And that other student.
As if! No one else in the stadium seemed shocked.
Jason shifted closer to her, but he didn't reach for her. "Our kind, Samara. The two of us. You. Eva. Everyone at this university. And more, of course."
She tried to ignore the part about her being a wolf. "Werewolves are real?"
James snorted, his lip curled up in disgust.
"We aren't called werewolves," Jason instructed her. "Most of the fiction you read about our kind is bullshit. But wolves… Wolves that can shift forms and live among humans do exist."
"And you're…?" They don't look like wolves. Then again, neither did the other one, until he changed.
The brothers shared another potent look. They started stripping off their clothes.
Her arousal peaked.
Stop it. This isn't about sex.
"What are you doing?" Focus on talking. Focus on anything else.
James shrugged. "I don't intend to get tangled in my clothes like Thomas did."
"Oh." She watched them strip, numb, her mouth going dry.
In a flash, the pair were replaced with two dark wolves. They raced around the room, playing a game of what looked like tag. At last they bounded up on the bed and dropped down on either side of her.
They want me to be sure they're real. Samara reached out with a shaking hand and buried it in the wealth of fur to her left.
"James." How she knew which twin was which in wolf form was beyond her, but there was no doubt in her mind about it.
As if in confirmation, he reached up and licked her cheek.
Samara smiled, then turned to scratch Jason under the chin. He stared at her with soulful eyes, and she knew what he wanted.
"Jason."
He yipped happily.
"Okay… You're wolves."
They changed back, stretched out on either side of her, much as they had been for the last week.
Samara felt compelled to add the inescapable truth. "You're wolves, but I'm not."
"Of course you are." Jason stated it with certainty. "Everything about you screams it, from your temperament and your affinity with animals to your scent."
James took over before she could protest. "Your mother was human, but she carried a wolf's child, and you are a wolf."
"Do you know who my father is?"
"Yes, but he wants you to decide when to meet him. Be sure before you ask to."
His tone raised the hair at the back of her neck. Was he insinuating she wouldn't want to meet her father for some reason? If so, why?
A question for another time. "But I'm not a wolf. I can't…" —she circled her hand, searching for the term—"shift." That was the word they used, wasn't it?
Jason chuckled.
James smiled. "Females don't. Well, not fully, as the males do. Perhaps it's because shifting would be bad while carrying young. I'm not really sure why males shift fully and females don't."
"I don't at all." The sense of loss was heart-wrenching. Why? What have I lost? It wasn't like Samara had hoped and dreamed to be a wolf. She'd learned what she was only a few minutes ago.
Jason groaned, his cock going hard and twitching in excitement.
James trailed a fingertip down Samara's neck, making her shiver in delight. "Oh, you do. It's sexy as hell when you do."
"Except when Christiana stabbed you with the Hunter's Fang." Jason growled. "It scared the hell out of me when I saw you sh
ifting."
"How can I shift and not feel it?" Samara demanded. She tried to push away a dozen new questions that popped into her mind.
"You're usually otherwise occupied." Jason trailed his fingertips up her thigh.
She gasped at the implication. "Show me."
James smiled, showing the tips of his fangs. "It would be our pleasure."
* * * *
"What are you doing?" Samara could have smacked herself for asking such a stupid question. Obviously Jason is filling the tub.
James stepped up behind her, his breath heating the back of her head. "See the mirror?"
She looked at it, her breathing going shallow. She'd seen the mirror, of course. Who could miss it? It reached thigh to ceiling and half the length of the wall across from the tub. The same half the tub itself dominates. The reason for the positioning was impossible to miss.
"You're going to get me sexually excited and then—"
"Let you see your wolf come out." He finished the thought for her.
James pulled her flush to his body so Samara could feel the length of his cock pressing to her lower back. "Of course, if you want to use it to watch us have sex later…"
Samara swallowed hard, the mental image making her dizzy in need.
"Thought so."
Jason turned off the water, then returned to them. The brothers bracketed her with their larger bodies. There was no rush. They trailed their hands down her body, unbuttoning clothing, pushing it away, caressing her skin beneath as each piece of clothing fell to the floor.
Each of them closed his hands around her waist. They lifted her together and set her in the tub, then they joined her, standing knee-deep in the water. Jason helped her to sit on the far side of the tub, and James spread her legs wide.
"Look at the mirror." Jason tilted his head in that direction.
Samara had barely had time to comply when Jason buried his face between her thighs and started feasting on her. James paid attention to her breasts instead.
It didn't take long for them to push her toward climax. That had been true since the first time James had suggested they share her. Samara had believed there were limits to sexual exploits, that a woman would suffer from rubbing or bruising or Honeymooner's Distress.