by Deja Black
Bending, she took the human’s lips in hers, kissing him softly. “Take him to my chambers.”
Two nelapsi eased from the shadows and corralled the human quickly, his struggles weak against their combined capability. The book fell from his hands and was quickly picked up by Vadin.
“My Korolova, if I may.”
“Indeed, you may, Vadin.” Vadin went to his knees before Alonya, his raven black hair falling over his shoulders as he turned the pages of the book for her to peruse. Together, they scanned the pages of the human, Mark Dannon.
“Forgive me for my blood connection, my Korolova. My twin Ilarion’s fault is not my own. I would seek only to replace his failures with my most humble and pleasured service. If you allow me, I will serve you as your Second without fail.” Another page turned.
“Beautiful words, but action is so much more effective when making these decisions,” Alonya said. “What can you offer your brother could not?” Vadin’s finger rested upon the face of a man so like Alexi Romanoff he could be his twin.
“I can find the one you seek.”
“You may just prove worthy. Rise into the station where your predecessor has failed me. Achieve what my heart desires, and you will live to maintain it.” Alonya looked back to the book with the image of Peter Romanoff before her eyes, a gleam of happiness spreading across her face.
To the others who stood around her, she said, “My second, Vadin, will show you the image of Alexi Romanoff’s heir. He is the perfect blend of his once noble father and the wolf bitch who entranced him. Let us end this aberration who would make our coven impure, and we will begin anew. I will return our coven to greatness!” The resounding cheers were deafening.
“One step closer, Second,” she said.
“Yes, my Korolova,” Vadin said humbly.
“Do not disappoint or you will lie in the bellies of my slaves alongside your brother.”
“Yes, my Korolova.”
Chapter Thirteen
Peter clicked through photos determining which would fit for the gallery show. His thoughts moved from pictures of children and the doting mothers who loved them, to a tall amber-skinned man with a sensuous smile, and a take-no-prisoners attitude.
“What’s that smile about, hmm?” Caleb asked as he entered the office. Dropping his trench onto a chair, he strode toward Peter and fell into a chair in front of Peter’s desk.
“There is a closet here for a purpose,” Peter groaned gently. “And, nothing. Just wondering which photos to consider for the showing.” The one of the child playing with a train set would be a touching nostalgia piece.
“Is that all,” Caleb asked totally ignoring the comment on the closet choosing instead to focus on Peter, reclining.
“No, not all,” Peter sighed.
“Of course. Share,” Caleb coaxed.
“Well, if you must know—”
“I must.”
“I was thinking of the detective.”
“Remi, of course,” Caleb said. Now, it was his turn to sigh.
“Right now, though, I’m more focused on the showing. I need this to go well.” People were counting on him, families were. He wouldn’t let them down.
“Is there any reason why it shouldn’t, my Korol? The right people were contacted. Your photos, as always, will draw their attention and encourage them to part with their purse strings. You’ve nothing to fear.” Leave it to Caleb to say the right thing, but it still didn’t assuage his fears.
“And, yet, I always worry over these things.”
“It’s unfortunate that rabid confidence you display doesn’t appear when you’re faced with such decisions. Perhaps what you need is a balance.”
Peter looked up from the screen and over to his Second. “A balance?”
“Yes, and maybe the balance is,” Caleb sighed as if what he was going to say pained him, “the detective.”
“A change of heart?”
“I’ve been thinking, of the way you’re changing, your verve, and the way you react to the human.” Caleb paused. “Are you ready for a Supruga? Do you wish to have a mate who will honor you, lead with you?”
“Funny how your words sound so very similar to my uncle’s when only days ago you weren’t so sure of the mating between me and a human.” A light glaze of ice settled over Peter’s words. “Where were you?”
Caleb exhaled shakily. It was well known among the wolves Peter didn’t favor tradition, but his uncle did. Kristoff Dumanovsky insisted Peter would not be Korol in title alone. When it was time, he would claim the birthright his father left to him.
“I may have been called home,” Caleb admitted.
“Summoned you mean, because we know when you go home, your presence has been demanded rather than invited.” Peter’s tone reflected his frustration.
“Your uncle cares for you.”
“Caleb, my uncle’s love for me is without question, for which I’m grateful, but I don’t wish to rule at this time or any other. I’m an artist, a photographer.”
“And, you are a leader. The fact remains you command those around you. It’s in your blood,” Leaning forward, Caleb spoke in earnest. “You say you don’t wish to rule, but many are drawn to your side, others desperate for your words and your attention.
“Our hearts leap because of you, which is only natural. The fact you don’t wish to rule is unnatural. Even you, in your need to be free, must realize this. It is a destiny that cannot be denied or ignored.”
“Fate. Destiny,” Peter snarled. “I am denying nothing. I lead here, know my people here. I am not my father. He abandoned his coven, and somehow I need to make amends for his choices.”
Caleb stood and walked around the desk, placed one hand on Peter’s shoulders, but drew back quickly when he felt the current. “No, you’re not your father.” He sighed. “Is this your fear, then? To have someone, love them and then lose them?”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” Peter said, his word final. He wanted Remi, wanted what they could have, but at the cost of loving a man not aware of the world Peter lived in? Was it destined to fail before it began?
“You don’t need to. Anyone who knows you can look at you and see how much you already feel for Remi.” Caleb sighed. “But, let us pretend the gallery showing is your only concern. Let’s pretend it’s these pictures that have your attention before you put me on my ass again, you and your creatures.”
Peter eyed him, then laughed. Moving over, he showed Caleb the screen. “Look at these for me. Tell me what you think.”
“I’ll look at them, but then you’ll simply choose the opposite. I’m only a sounding board for you.” Caleb pointed at one of the photos. “This one?”
“Yes, I like that one, too. Shelly’s such a becoming mother. That glow will touch them all.”
“Yes, the glow is enchanting, and it’s toned down enough not to look inhuman.”
“She’s a sprite. She can’t help it. She’s the happiest I’ve ever seen her.”
“Having one who displays considerable gifts at such a young age would make her happy.”
“Yes, the little one levitated yesterday along with the butterflies she is so fond of having around her.”
“Her element brings all the flying creatures to her. This one?” It was a picture of a woman holding her belly gently, the figure of a man looking on from the shadows. She sat in a chair, the soft light dancing across her profile, her eyes closed as she touched her extended belly searching, looking for the kicks often treasured by new mothers. Her lips were curled gently, a whisper of a smile lighting her presence. The picture itself was like a watercolor, the pink of her hair soft.
“Baby number five and still gorgeous. Some would wonder how she would still be so after this many years.” Shelly’s children grew quickly, the combination of wolf and sprite speeding their development so fast she barely enjoyed her child’s infanthood before a toddler, then teenager and even a
man or young woman grew before her. Still, she loved them all and they, her.
Their father, Conner, was protective of each of his sons and daughters and ensured all were kept safe. Samuel, the oldest and a devilish minx, was playing basketball with his uncle Dan and his husband.
He loved his uncles, and they made sure he kept his abilities under control. With Dan’s calming spirit and Aiden able to blur those around him, Samuel could play, and others didn’t suffer the lasting effects.
Samuel in his youth lacked the ability to control his urges, so guidance was necessary. Perhaps years from now, his affinity with nature around him and his ability to shapeshift at will would be an asset rather than a harmless annoyance.
“It would be perfect to show the presence of a father, though absent, still very near. Those who are suffering the loss of a husband could appreciate such a work. It’s gorgeous, Peter. You continue to surprise me with your gift of capturing the story. And, yet.”
Peter looked up from the computer screen to Caleb’s face. “And, yet?”
“And, yet, you would hide from your own. There is so much more to you, my Korol.”
The deliberate use of his title was not lost on Peter. He ignored Caleb in favor of pointing out another photo.
“What about this one?” Peter asked.
“The audience would think this image of Cassandra flying out of her bedroom window to be digital trickery.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Shelly’s fear of her babe heading toward the window, the little pixie wearing an open expression of unfettered joy as she rose with her arms high aiming for the moonlit sky, Shelly flying behind her. “They will take it for some sort of symbolism.”
“And what if someone takes it for truth?”
“None would. You worry too much.”
“And you, not enough.”
“So, Remi. Balance.” Peter’s eyes flicked to Caleb and back, the knowing smile his Second wore showing him he was indeed caught in trying to divert his attention. “Well, we have a plan to meet for brunch soon.”
“Do you now?”
“Yes. And before you say anything, I’ve alerted the men. They know.”
“Even better. Now, no one will need to hunt you down.”
“I thought you might appreciate my efforts.”
“Sincerely. Do keep me informed. I am interested.”
Peter sighed. “Of course. I’m sure you’re not alone in your interest.” He knew Caleb saw his uncle and probably the Alpha, too.
“I have other matters to discuss with you, Peter.”
Peter didn’t know what to think as Caleb told him what his man on the inside discovered, messages on the walls in blood, threats.
“And, there’s something else.” Caleb ran his fingers through his hair. “Do you remember Mark Dannon?”
“Mark? Yes.” He’d cared for him, just not enough. “I remember him. No authentic connection, not enough there for either of us to make it last.”
“Oh, there was enough for Mark, enough money. Were there more, maybe he’d be more than a memory right now.”
“A memory, Caleb?”
“He was found murdered in his home.”
Peter listened as Caleb told him how Mark was discovered, how he died, ripped apart. While Caleb spoke, Peter felt cold like an arctic chill slither along his spine as the news that another person he knew was decimated so violently.
“This is the second person now, Peter. An intimate. There’s more.” More. What more could there be? “There was truth to your suspicion of my being summoned to the compound. A meeting with the Alpha and Kristoff.”
Peter’s eyes found Caleb’s slowly. “And what did you meet about one would wonder.” The creatures within awakened, alert now. His authority questioned, decisions made without him present was a slight to the spirits within, nelapsi or beast.
“A moment, Peter, please. Listen to me,” Caleb said calmly aware of the change in Peter. “You were my friend before you became my Korol. Wait until you’ve heard what I say.”
Caleb was right. They were friends first before their titles. He’d listen to him before he put him out on his ass for siding with the others against him. “Speak,” he growled.
“The Alpha has asked for you to return to the compound. He and Kristoff feel it would be in your best interest to go where you would be safest.”
Peter walked away as if taking a moment to breathe before he turned back to Caleb, leaning down against him. Caleb fell back against the cushions, his legs splayed as the nelapsi within Peter released some of his energy to crackle along his frame. Caleb gasped at his power, the sparks of pain Peter sent swirling through him.
“No.” Peter said calmly, his patience deceptive, “I will not.”
The energy sang within him, making him ache and burn everywhere it touched, but Caleb refused to stop trying.
“Peter,” he pleaded. “What’s so wrong with living somewhere you can be protected?” His pants were harsh to Peter’s ears as he was overwhelmed by the current of Peter’s flame.
The wolf’s growl within Peter was low and vicious, his pupils blood red as he pressed Caleb further, the pain sharper, more intense, but his Second only submitted, embraced his Korol’s whip as the agony raced through him.
He would let Peter kill him before he raised a hand against his leader.
“You question me?”
Caleb slid to the floor, weak. “I would never question you, Peter, only protect you. I know the struggle you feel within, but trust me. You know me.” The temperature that had risen by several degrees lowered and Peter felt the receding of both beings within him, a sort of cease-fire. As if in agreement, for now, the current ebbed, then disappeared.
Peter breathed gently for a moment, then took his hand and drew his fingers along Caleb’s temple, across his neck, removing the burns that ached below the surface. “They have quieted.” He touched Caleb again. “Protect me, Caleb, but do not ask me to go back to the compound. I love Jeremiah, love Kristoff and our people without fail. They’ve been nothing but supportive to me, but I won’t live under the rule of another. It’s not in me to do so. My creatures within would destroy everything and anyone considered a threat including their vessel. You know this.” Caleb looked up, his need to submit flooding his gaze.
“I do, Peter. But, what if I am not enough? What if my men are not enough? You need a balance.”
“You are enough, Caleb.”
“And, if you break me? If they think I’m not enough?”
Peter was quiet a moment, but the beings were there, their presence stronger, and his body was still warm from the power that raged through it moments ago. “Then, maybe you’re right.”
Chapter Fourteen
The light poured into Wild Eggs from sizable windows. Pictures of eggs in various forms and colors, mostly bland and speckled, covered the walls. The yolk yellow that seemed to be the theme the restaurant was going for was prevalent. Patrons sat around wooden tables decorated with pitchers of water and thinly sliced lemons while chatting as they perused menus for the healthy minded.
Remi watched the door open and close, the hostess eagerly greeting each newcomer. He’d been sitting for the last few minutes practicing conversation topics in his head, driving himself crazy with thoughts of meeting Peter.
And, what could they discuss? Sports? Was Peter a sports kind of guy? Did he know any teams? No. Scratch that. Politics? No, what if they had differing views? Music? Remi had a vast span of musical interests. He definitely covered the gambit.
The buzz of the phone shook the table, and Remi picked it up. Kaden.
Doing okay? Nervous about your first date?
I’m okay, Mom.
Just checking.
Peter Romanoff arrived. Remi was aware of him before he walked through the open door. Peter’s eyes stared right into the depths of his soul, made him shiver both inside and out.
He was a vision,
dressed casually in a yellow blazer paired with a brown t-shirt, the creamy colors doing wonders for his pale skin. Indigo blue jeans hugged his frame. Remi was a goner. He swallowed, trying to moisten the inside of his suddenly dry mouth and took a quick sip of water from the tumbler sitting before him, then stood to greet the man who he wanted in his future.
Peter made his way to the table, his movements more glide than actual walk. He arrived with shadows, men that parted as he neared the table. It was curious, this need for an entourage, something that would bear looking into.
“Remi,” Peter said.
“Peter. Yes, wait. Let me get that for you.” Remi moved around to the other side of the table and pulled out Peter’s chair.
Peter tilted his head to the side, then grinned, a hint of white beneath pale pink. “I’m not a woman, Detective. I can pull my own seat out, but your efforts are appreciated. Thank you.”
Remi bent low, his lips close to Peter’s ear, tasted him quickly with his tongue, nipping the bend of his flesh, rewarded by a tiny tremble that thrilled him.
“Yes, but then I wouldn’t have the opportunity to see that gorgeous ass sit right in front of me.” Fuck me. Seems he had no filters to what came out of his mouth. “Not quite sure what the best move was. I would like to get this right, Cher.”
“And what would you be getting right... exactly?” Peter’s voice was throaty.
“Whatever you will let it be, Peter,” Remi said. Peter dipped his chin, his pleasure evident while he picked up a linen napkin to set carefully over his lap.
A server popped over, combat boots with a purple paisley dress, purple hair with brilliant blue streaks, and several earrings that would probably slow her down at the airport security. Her genuine smile as she served them, complimented the sunshine flowing through the windows.
Remi looked toward Peter who asked simply for a bowl of fruit while he glanced over the menu. The idea of Peter enjoying succulent fresh fruit while Remi watched made his dick stretch behind his zipper. Seeing his tongue curve to receive a grape was going to try his restraint something terrible.