“That would be likely,” I said blandly.
“And what use are your powers, then, Oracle, if they do not show me what I can change?”
I laughed at him. “You criticize the Moon? She’s not your servant and only humors your inquiry. Obviously the situation with Anders requires more than a blunt object, a peacock’s tail, and roar of fury.”
Gabel growled to himself.
“So why does Anders upset you so much? He’s a wisp of an Alpha. Alpha Marcus of MarchMoon still growls your name,” I needled him.
“Exactly. Marcus paces at the end of his chain. Anders’ body bends in all the right ways, and the right words come out of his mouth, but his scent is scorn, and his eyes jaded.” Gabel stopped speaking, then his eyes rested on my Mark.
He touched it with his fingertips, tracing the three slashes. His eyes unfocused, and his face softened in contemplation.
“Maybe he wasn’t impressed with your choice of females.” I brushed his hand off me. He captured my fingers in his grip. I shivered in pleasure but kept my tone bland. “Gardenia matches the IronMoon reputation. She doesn’t impress. She just confirms what everyone already knows.”
Gabel didn’t release my hand, but his grip did stay gentle. “Which is what?”
“That you’re a common, unthinking brute of no lasting importance.” I schooled my tone into utter school-marm neutrality, but mostly failed. “If only your lieges knew the truth. That you value your own sick pleasure in an even sicker game over your duty to the pack. You are so obsessed with proving a point to yourself that you refuse to obey any basic standard of good behavior. The Moon saw what you did yesterday. She noted it. You will rue it the rest of your life, and I will be chained to your soul to witness it.”
So much for my plan to not talk about it. Annoyed, I yanked my hand out of his grip. He let me go, but his fingers returned to my Mark.
“Don’t touch me.” My voice trembled.
Gabel’s fingers brushed higher on my collar, up to my neck, under my jaw. His ocean-green eyes focused on me, his fingertips tracing the outline of my cheek, neck, jaw, collarbone, shoulder, like an artist tracing an outline. It was like he saw me for the first time, and I was real, not just some trophy he had randomly acquired on his quest to be King-Alpha.
“Stop,” I whispered.
“Your skin does not want me to stop.” His fingers moved under my jaw. He held me still with that one finger and bent his lips to mine.
A feeling like moonlight poured through my skin and veins, soothing and cool and content. It was bliss. Like I had been starving for weeks, dying, and now I had been served a plate of divine food.
His lips moved over mine, so gentle and slow. It seemed impossible to me Gabel could have any artistry and delicacy in him. His tongue grazed my lips, and tentatively, mine sought to join his.
Platinum.
The vision of her dangling on his arm, their fingers entwined together, Gabel kissing her fingers as if the most elegant of courtiers. The metallic clang! that had gone over my nerves every time he had kissed her.
I shoved him away. “No!”
Gabel fell back a step.
Desire throbbed alongside my fury. No way Gabel would get the satisfaction of me exploding with jealousy at him. I gulped and said, “I’m your Oracle. If you need me to scry for you, you can’t distract my flesh.”
There. Make it about being an Oracle. Not about that blond horror show.
Gabel’s face darkened as if a cloud was passing across it. “Ah. I thought it was something else bothering you.”
“Whatever else could there be?” The bastard wanted my admission. Bonus points if it brought me to my knees, and I blubbered tears like a damn fountain.
Instead I asked sweetly, “Do you still want me to petition the Moon about Anders?”
He said, barely above a mutter, “If you say it will serve no purpose, then I won’t waste your strength.”
“May I go?”
“So eager to get away from me, buttercup?”
He expected something else after the way he had been treating me? He still wanted that confession. I glanced out the window and spotted my escape. “No, Flint is expecting me.”
“That seems like a lie.”
“Does it?” I asked innocently. “Well, you can watch out the window if you like.”
Gabel turned back to his desk. “Have fun with whatever mischief you’re up to, buttercup. For your sake, I hope Flint is expecting you.”
Improving One’s Self
Flint’s morning session was just mopping up, and now the midday session, with the sun at its highest, would begin. The bodies moved and shifted as wolves picked up kilts and shoes and dignity, and other wolves arrived. Beta Hix stood talking to Flint and scowling at some new recruits.
Midday sessions were for the most raw recruits—the ones who’d get killed sparring with the morning or afternoon groups. Wolves like me.
“Lady Gianna,” Flint greeted me as I approached him and Hix.
“Master of Arms, may I speak with you a quick moment? Alone?” I asked.
Hix went to stand near the new recruits and wither them with his baleful stare.
I lowered my voice so only Flint would hear. If he didn’t agree to my request, I was screwed. Gabel’s watchful ire sat like a coal within me, and no doubt if I turned around his silhouette would be watching from his office window. “Master of Arms, may I train with this group? Now?”
“You are an Oracle, Lady Gianna, not a warrior,” Flint said.
“Oh, I don’t want to be a warrior.” I rubbed the Mark on my arm and looked around. “I guess I just... think I should know more than I do.”
It wasn’t like any of the IronMoon wanted my services as an Oracle, and no one from outside the pack was brave enough to come to the house and petition me. I was the only Oracle within a thousand miles, and I was used to having more petitioners than I could handle, not being the private pet of a single Alpha.
“No quarters given, Lady Gianna. I am not gentle,” Flint warned.
Hix had wandered back over. “This isn’t appropriate. She is the Alpha’s intended. She does not need to protect herself, and common wolves shouldn’t have their paws on her.”
“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” I snapped.
Flint, naked except for a kilt around his torso, rubbed his chin. “If Lady Gianna wants to train, I don’t see a problem.”
“The problem is she is the Alpha’s intended. What does it say about us that she feels the need to defend herself? Not to mention that the idea of lesser wolves putting their paws on her is offensive.”
“I think it says a great deal for a future Queen who wants to be a strong match for her King,” Flint said.
“Gabel will not approve. It isn’t necessary.”
Nope, Gabel wouldn’t approve at all. Bingo. Hix was so clever.
“If it upsets you so much thinking common wolves will be touching her, then you can be her training partner.”
Hix jerked like someone had yanked his collar. “Me?”
Flint ignored Hix’s reaction. “Lady Gianna wants to improve herself. I will never stand in the way of a wolf who wants to improve themself.”
And with that, he walked away, and I hurried to the edge of the ring before anyone could change his mind.
“This is not needed,” Hix hissed..
“Yes, it is,” I hissed back.
“This is a borderline scandal.”
“You’ve never met a female warrior before?”
“You are not a warrior! You are an Oracle, and we will protect you!”
“Fine job you’re doing.”
That shut up him.
Some of the wolves from the other sessions had drifted out of the house to watch my inevitable embarrassment. Even Platinum came along, smirking and laughing with two of her little friends. Interesting choice that she was down here instead of racing up to Gabel’s office to rub her scent all over him.
Thi
s might have been a better choice of evasions than I’d originally realized. If Miss Gardenia and I ever had more than words, I’d be the winner. It’d be dangerously pathetic if I somehow became the IronMoon Luna and couldn’t manage to smack the snot out of a she-wolf like her.
Soon enough it was my turn, timed exactly as the sun was at its highest.
Hix paced around me. He had on just a kilt, having already been training before I showed up, and there were half-healed red scratches raked into his dusky skin. He had several much older scars on his torso. One looked like it had been caused by a silver-acid burn. “I will be gentle with you.”
“If you think Alpha Gabel is gentle with me, you insult me.”
This made Hix scowl something fierce.
A big, strong Alpha wouldn’t abuse a little, weak wolf. Weak wolves abused other weak wolves, trying to make themselves feel big.
“I will be gentle with you,” Hix informed me, angry and insulted.
“If that’s what you think is best.” I made sure my hair was tied back tight.
Like all wolves, I had learned the basics of self-defense as a pup. When my Seer abilities manifested themselves, the time for training had been switched to my talents. I had only continued to do a very little bit, and compared to the strength of Gabel’s forces, I was a joke.
Hitting Hix’s broad palms with my own fists felt like hitting broad, flat stones. Hitting his carved abdomen was also like hitting a stone. In fact, hitting any part of him was like hitting a stone. And getting hit by him was like being hit with a stone. Wrestling him was like wrestling a giant hot magma flow.
He grabbed my hand, yanked me to him. It felt like I had gotten shoved into a wall. Or the wall had shoved itself at me. I choked on breath. His fingers dug into my wrist, his other hand slid over my shoulder and behind my head. He pushed my head down and into his chest. The other kept control of my wrist, curling into me. My bones creaked, and my fingers went numb from the pressure.
“Quit,” he growled.
I almost whimpered about the pain in my hand, and my neck being cranked into his skin. He smelled of sweat and something that reminded me of an expensive cigar. It was not unpleasant. I squirmed, forcing him to hold me tighter.
I visualized Gabel watching from his glass window, feeling my pain, how I was trapped, and overwhelmed, and helpless. All those feelings that he would never tolerate. That feeling he had never felt. That feeling he inflicted on everyone else. Now he couldn’t escape or prevent or do anything about because it was happening to me and not to him!
A surge of rage and strength shot through me. I yanked my right knee up and stomped Hix’s foot. He twitched, then I kicked him as hard as I could on the inside of his leg. The shock—it’s a little muscle and easy to hurt, but most males instinctively think you’ve caught them in the jewels until they realize you haven’t—caused him to loosen his grip just enough that I was able to duck out of the neck crank.
He spun me around by the arm and flipped me onto my back. The impact knocked the wind out of me. He ducked over me, faster than I could even blink, and that huge forearm clamped under my neck. He released my hand to grab my hair and forced my head forward over his arm.
Gabel’s window was in my sight even as my vision started to dim. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t even gag. His fingers in my hair hurt. Stones boring their way into my skull.
I hoped Gabel could feel my consciousness waning, my throat struggling to remain open, the blood not reaching my brain, my lungs burning and struggling for air. I hoped he felt completely powerless to prevent it, stop it, or fight against it. There’d be no triumph. I was weak.
The instant before I lost consciousness, I tapped.
The ultimate humiliation for Gabel: I had quit.
And so had he.
With a curse Hix released me and shot to his feet. I slumped forward and gagged a few times.
Master Of Arms Flint said, “Mind your tongue, Hix.”
My neck buzzed, and my hand was completely numb except for the vague ache in every joint. I glanced towards the house. I was so exhausted I swayed on my feet, and my throat still felt like I was going to gag every breath.
Hix, lips twisted in a disgusted frown, threw a towel at me. He pulled one over his own body. He was sweating from the sun and fury, not effort. “You could not fight off a puppy.”
“She is clever and tough,” Flint corrected. “Those two things cannot be taught.”
“Are we done with this farce now?” Hix demanded of both of us. “An Oracle should be clever and tough. This was pointless.”
“No,” Master Of Arms Flint said. “She wishes to improve. As long as she wishes that, you will work with her. Lady Gianna.”
“Master of Arms.” I inclined my head to him.
Flint walked away, barking orders for the rest of the moon-faced wolves. They drifted after Flint, looking back over their shoulders at me. Platinum stomped away with her toadies. Whatever she’d wanted to see I hadn’t provided it.
In the mudroom, Hix threw our towels into the overflowing basket and scowled at me. He took my chin in his hands, jerked my head up to examine the abrasions on my neck, then the bruises forming on my wrist.
“Knock it off. I’m fine.” I shook off his hands, or tried to.
“This is not necessary, Lady Gianna,” he said.
Oh, it was very necessary. “You think I can’t handle being sweaty? Get lost if you’re going to insult me.”
He snorted, spun on his heel, and stalked away. I went to shower.
Platinum rounded me up as soon as I emerged from the bedroom. Her face was so sour, lemons had probably been stuffed in her cheeks. “Alpha Gabel wants to see you. Now.”
I smiled. “Not having the best day, Gardenia?”
“It’s a fine day.” She peered over my shoulder into our quarters.
“You are such a devoted little messenger. Gabel is so fortunate to have you.” I slammed the door shut and pushed her out of my way.
Her growl stretched a huge grin over my face.
Gabel quickly wiped the smile off my face with a furious look. The mantle of an enraged Alpha burned across his shoulders. He pointed at the window. “What the hell was that?”
I baked in my smugness. “That was your future Queen improving herself.”
He titled is head to the side as if his chin were on a mechanical device. His jaw was uneven, his anger very real. I should have been afraid, but I was so pleased, I just had to gloat in my most reasonable tone. “Master of Arms Flint believes any wolf who wishes to improve herself should do it. Beta Hix will be my teacher and partner, since it would be very inappropriate for lesser wolves to touch me.”
Gabel’s tongue moved between his white teeth at the word “Queen”, but he couldn’t get any words out before I added, “Maybe you should speak to Master Flint?”
“I believe I will. I do not approve of this. It is not necessary for you, Gianna,” he snapped, unwilling to confess his annoyance as much as I was unwilling to confess my jealousy.
When he said my name it stroked my entire body in pleasure. I shivered uncontrollably.
Gabel’s hands moved over my face. Like Hix, he lifted my chin, saw the skin burns from where Hix’s skin had rubbed mine raw. His fingertips were gentle, elegant, not rough. His fingers slid off my shoulders, and he bent, but not to kiss my lips: he pressed his lips to the abrasions on my neck, once, twice, thrice.
I breathed out without thinking.
His lips brushed mine, then pressed, and he kissed me slow and deep.
I dissolved into only one thought:
I wanted it.
His tongue against mine, his hands sliding over my bruised, tired body, the Mark throbbing like a second heart. The dark well of hurt inside me where our Bond bloomed.
I curled my arms around his shoulders. One of his hands pushed under my shirt along my side and cupped my breast in his palm. I could barely breathe. His other hand dug into the small of my back.
Contact broken, the pulsing of my Mark stopped just as abruptly. His hand remained on my back. His hand remained on my breast. His blue eyes were wide with shock for a moment. Then he tore his hands back.
He turned away, dismissing everything with a shrug of his shoulders. “I’m going to speak with Flint about this.”
Humiliation surged up my throat. I caught the words before they escaped.
His expression transformed into the more familiar one of smug victory. The Bond had slipped ahead of him for a moment, but he had regained control first.
I didn’t have anything to say that wouldn’t give him some more satisfaction, so I just told him I would see him at dinner and left his room.
The contact broken, my skin felt filthy. I could still feel his hands on me. His tongue against mine.
I knew he was laughing at me.
A Huntin’ We Shall Go
I wasn’t there for Gabel’s encounter with Flint, but from the churning in my gut that slid outward like poison in my veins, it didn’t go Gabel’s way. A new sensation: Gabel had lost a fight. Twice in a day. Perhaps that was a new record.
Victory tasted sweet. I tucked it against my heart like a warm lantern in darkness.
Master Of Arms Flint seemed happy to see me when I showed up to my next lesson.
Beta Hix was less thrilled. “I still do not approve of this.”
“Noted.” Master Flint didn’t care anymore that day than the previous day.
Hix grimaced. I wriggled my fingers and reminded myself it needed to hurt.
That night I had a bruise on my jaw. Hix had clipped me with an elbow, much to his horror. Gabel’s look of fury when I came to dinner was all the reward I needed.
“I was too slow,” I told Gabel as he turned on Hix, fork clutched in his hand like he’d plunge it into Hix’s left eye, pop out the globe, and eat it like a grape. “It’s not bad. Training doesn’t count if it doesn’t hurt a bit.”
Hix and Gabel both gave me appalled looks.
“I will drink to that!” Master Flint declared at the other table. Fists pounded the table in agreement. “You remember that, runts. When I hurt your little paws, you just remember that!”
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