by Deja Black
Peter was trapped in his human appearance for as long as he could remember. The more time spent without a balance, the more he walked a thin line of control. His wolf was a raging inferno, pulsing with the desire for freedom. His nelapsi was hungry—voracious. Their internal warfare was a dangerous one.
Caleb suffered Peter’s volatile swings. It was both fortunate and unfortunate he was the only one who knew how terrible they could be.
But, Remi? The detective attracted both. He made the wolf pace and the nelapsi thirst. They sensed the end of their suffering, and their anticipation was an overwhelming force.
As for Kristoff’s wolf? His wolf was massive and terrifying. He was fast and coupled with his skill, he was lethal. Right now, his piercing gaze was on Peter insisting that he be heeded.
“You will return to the compound.” Kristoff rumbled. He wore a dark blue Brioni, a suit perfectly tailored for him. The color of the ensemble complementing the silvery platinum of his hair. Kristoff kept his hair short where Peter’s flowed down his back. Black shoes glinted in the light as he flexed his foot back and forth. He looked so regal Peter almost hated to disappoint him. Almost.
“You don’t have a key, Uncle. Did Caleb let you in?” he asked instead.
“I don’t need a key, nephew,” he said calmly. “And, no, your wolf did not let me in.”
“My wolf. Exactly.” Peter smiled. “Sometimes you forget Caleb’s allegiance belongs to me. My wolf did not let you in, so why are you here?”
Ignoring Peter’s question, Kristoff growled, “Peter Romanoff, you will listen to me.”
“Uncle, I’ll always listen to you, but what I won’t do, will never do, is return to live at the compound.” Peter stood and walked to the window. Cars moved like ants over a picnic on the street below while his uncle sat, silently steaming. The door opened with a bang as Caleb entered the room hurriedly. Peter lips curved as he neared him.
“My Korol. Beta.”
“Caleb” They answered in unison.
“My uncle is asking me to return to the compound. Please tell him why you agree with me in my decision not to do so.”
“Yes, Caleb, tell me why Peter’s safety should not be secured where wolves are ready and able to fight along with him against the coming storm.” Kristoff’s eyes glittered angrily.
Caleb, usually calm and ever efficient, swallowed as he prepared to move within shark-infested waters. He was nervous at first, but when Peter angled to stand close to him, he steadied against the force of reckoning that was Kristoff.
“Beta Kristoff,” Caleb began. It was a tactic, using the stronger wolf’s title to help him remember his purpose. To act for the goodness of the pack, and not just out of fear for his last surviving relative, his sister’s only child. “You yourself have often told me it is better to be prepared to fight than hide in the false safety of the shadows. Peter is doing that. He is ready.”
“The training Peter has received at the compound, by me and by you, son, may not be enough for what the creatures that murdered his parents have in store,” Kristoff said slowly.
“How can we be confident it’s them?” Peter questioned.
“I have no doubt what the creatures were that the detectives saw on the surveillance tape. Their movements, the way they played with Mark Dannon before they cornered him in his home and destroyed him? These are the games of the nelapsi. Their messages?” Kristoff’s dark gaze focused on Peter again. “They are coming, nephew. We must be together and we must be ready.”
“You will not fight my battles, Uncle. I will fight. I am ready.” Anger crept into Peter’s tone.
“You’re so sure of this? And somehow, you’ve gained your balance? Claimed the mate who will help to calm the conflict within you? The one to help you harness that energy you’ve sprinkled everywhere like some volatile fairy dust, rather than leave you vulnerable?
“Your very existence is a miracle, your survival a gift from the Goddess. We are grateful the Alpha’s woman knew what needed to be done to care for you. But now, when you need it the most, you are absent a Supruga, your dalliances with humans fruitless, and your heart empty of what would make you strong.”
“You’re one to talk of empty hearts, Uncle. How many years and you still have not said anything to him—your own mate? How many years have you watched him mourn, your heart aching?”
“Leave it. That is not important now.” But, Peter saw it was—it would always be the pain that tore at his uncle’s heart.
Peter quieted. It was useless to say anything. Kristoff would do nothing but wait and hope that Jeremiah would notice he was there not just as his second, accept him as the man who loved him. And, he was right. It had no bearing on what was on its way.
“I have someone,” he stated.
“You have someone,” Kristoff repeated.
“Yes.”
“The detective?”
Peter looked over at Caleb who was noticeably quiet.
“My wolf, hmm. It would seem you still have a hold on him.” Peter sighed. “I forgive you, Caleb. I know my safety is paramount.”
“It is,” Caleb said quietly.
“Make no mistake, Uncle. I love and respect you. But, these meetings behind my back, the subterfuge and placing Caleb in such a position must end.”
Kristoff nodded. “Understood, my nephew. Know that whatever we do, we do with your safety and the future of your leadership in mind.”
Peter went on, “Right now, the two halves of me are in agreement, we need Remi Devereaux. I am willing to bet that balance will be acquired through the claiming. He will be my Supruga, my mate, and his presence will help me to have the equilibrium I need.”
“A detective.”
“It’s the same argument I had,” Caleb said. “But, I know, just as you do that there are other tasks that must be done.”
Kristoff nodded. “Thank you for the reminder, Caleb. You were chosen well. How close are you to completing this, Peter?” Kristoff asked.
“Have I fucked him, do you mean?”
“I would not have asked it that way, but your words are not without merit.”
“Not yet. I’m well aware of ancient expectations, but I will claim my mate when we are ready. Not when you determine I should, or even the onset of the coven’s arrival. But, I will claim my mate.”
“Remi Devereaux?” Kristoff questioned.
“Yes.”
“When will you see him again?”
“Tonight.”
Kristoff acknowledged the statement with a quick nod. “You won’t reconsider staying at the compound?”
“No, Uncle. I will not.”
“A human. You will mate a human and cross the divide as your father did long ago, the very thing that started this strife in his coven.”
“I’ll claim my mate no matter what he is.” Peter didn’t know the moment he’d accepted Remi was his, but everything in the changes he was experiencing pointed that way. Mostly, it was the continuous need to be with him, see him, touch him. He was falling in love with Remi, but he wouldn’t be pressured. “I’ll not claim the responsibility of an action occurring before my birth.”
Kristoff smiled stiffly. “Then it is as it should be. I won’t question how the Goddess has blessed you, but I’ll ask you to use your common sense. You are in danger, Peter. They know what you look like. There’s no hiding you now. There’s no hiding this human mate you intend to claim.”
“Then that’s as it should be,” Peter used Kristoff’s own words against him. “I won’t hide any longer, Uncle. If it’s a war they want, it’s one I’m willing to fight.”
“And you are prepared for this?” Kristoff questioned.
“You’ve trained me. I know everything from sambo to jiu-jitsu, and street fighting, too. For years, you and your wolves have beaten me, attacked me, destroyed me, and put me together again. You didn’t give me a break or a moment of air, no quarter for your nephew. So,
why shouldn’t I be ready? Why isn’t now the time? Goddess bless, I know all your weapons and have my own. What more could there be?”
“Your beast. And what of your beast?” Kristoff said slowly. “Have you worn its form?” He said to Caleb. “What of that, Second to the Korol? Have you witnessed his wolf?” His stony gaze found Peter. “We don’t know what you will become? We’ve never witnessed it.”
“I’ve felt its power,” Caleb said.
“Yes, I know. I’ve heard. I’ve scented the presence of your wolf. But, it’s never alone. What will two creatures create? Do you know what you’re feeling, Peter? This anger, this need to defend yourself, challenging me is one thing. This, I can see is the wolf in you.
“But, the blood. By now, you must have noticed some type of change within you, a calling for that liquid pulsing through your human’s veins. Have you considered how you’ll deal with that, Peter? Can you use your beast, call your blood drinker—”
“Blood drinker. My father was one, Uncle.”
“And though I loved your father as my brother, I warned your mother then as I warn you now. It is a dangerous road you are choosing, one where you could lose so much. Are you prepared to fight not only the creatures hunting you but the beings battling within your very soul? What of that, Peter? What will you choose, then?”
“Must there be a choice?”
“My nephew, there is always a choice.”
“I disagree.”
“On what grounds? How can you know what you need when you do not know yourself who you are?”
Peter’s anger was a slow simmer, the boiling in his blood churning faster and faster until it was roiling. The creatures inside awakening, their awareness adding to the flame. The course of energy ran just beneath the surface, the hints of blue glimmered over his skin.
“I know myself,” Peter roared.
“Do you? What are you, then? Wolf? Beast, or child of the blood as they call themselves? Pack or Nelapsi? What are you?”
A red haze slid over Peter’s vision. It was a tangible thing inside him, the splitting of his psyche, the rage uncontrollable as the two entities fought to gain dominance, each seeking the right to answer the challenge.
“I am more.”
“More what, Peter? What are you if you cannot choose, cannot identify yourself, and cannot become what you need? Take a form, any form that would reveal what you hold within. Many will call you an abomination, a fallacy of the Goddess.”
“What do you want, Uncle? Do you want to see my pain?” Peter screamed. He balled his fist tightly, the lights now zig zags of flame striking against themselves, sparking over his hands, racing into the floor beneath him.
Kristoff went on, ignoring Peter’s pain, the only indication he noticed the light was an arc of his brow. “And, as an abomination, your existence a curse, then what of your human? If you are erased, blotted out, then shouldn’t your mate be erased, too?”
And that was it. Peter self-destructed, throwing himself across the room, his hands out to attack his uncle, his roar loud and wild. Before he could unleash the power inside, though, he was whipped around, slammed, a wicked thrust to his kidney enflaming his back as he went down painfully. He felt the cold steel of the gun barrel as it sat at his temple.
“This moment, nephew, is where you will need your balance. Neither creature appeared to save you. Here I kneel over you, a Beta, where you, a Korol, should be. Instead, your life is forfeit, unable to wield your flame.”
Peter thrust one leg back, dislodging Kristoff, but when he moved to flip over, Kristoff touched the ground as a wolf. His coat was striking, a hulking form covered completely in platinum blond fur, bristling and ready for the attack. He stalked him, pacing back and forth, seeking a weakness in the human lying sprawled before him. Caleb moved to shift.
“No, Caleb. My uncle’s challenging me. I’ll answer it.” Peter stretched out his limbs, prepared himself to take on Kristoff. Should it matter how unsettled he was, how shaky? Both Caleb and his uncle were harping on this balance he was lacking. While there was some truth to that, should the lack of a mate be that detrimental?
He’d held his own for so many years, but now? When so much counted on the ability to maintain his control? Maybe they were right.
He stood slowly, aware of the stalking animal. His uncle was silent, waiting. And, Peter got it, realized this war, the fight on the horizon might happen anywhere.
As a human, Peter was no match for his uncle’s speed or the unrestrained force that lay in the sinew mapping his body. While his own skin pulled and itched with the need to shift, the energy engulfing his insides, the pricks of pain dancing along his nerves, wouldn’t allow it.
He kept wavering back and forth, trapped, while his two sides fought against each other. Neither wishing to give up the reigns, and yet neither able to wield them. He lacked the control, and though he tried desperately to open the current that would allow him to transition into his beast, he couldn’t grasp it.
In seconds, Kristoff charged him, his throat vulnerable to the sharp canines as the imposing wolf shook him hard back and forth. Losing ground, he was hammered to the floor, his air leaving him in a whoosh as he dropped from the wolf’s jaws. In the time it took for him to accept he failed, Kristoff chose that moment to attack the second time.
He was on him, his claws piercing him, snatching Peter from the air and pinning him to the floor, striking him again and again. He found himself pierced once more, unable to breathe. His throat at the mercy of his uncle’s sharp canines, the grip tight along his fragile windpipe.
“I understand,” he gasped. “I understand.” He stared into steel blue eyes that shifted from the fierce gaze of wolf to human in seconds. Kristoff stood before him, naked and beautiful, a warrior in body and soul.
Picking up his clothes, Kristoff dressed slowly. “I have lost enough in my life, my nephew. I will not lose you, too.” He picked up his keys and moved to the door. “You will return to the compound on your own, or I will drag you there myself.” Then he was gone.
Caleb stood over Peter. “I told you so.”
“What are you? Six? Shut up.” Winded, Peter moved his hand through the strands of his sweat-soaked hair. The slippery ends traveling over his neck and back. He coughed, his throat sore and bruised from his uncle’s lesson.
“He’s right, you know,” Caleb said.
Peter flipped himself off the floor, arriving at a standing position while Caleb stood back to give him room.
“He’s not right. I’m fine just where I am.”
“Struggling for air, you mean, because you can’t decide what to do, leaving you vulnerable to shifter, vampire or human. And, if we’re right, and it is the nelapsi of your father’s coven, what then? How will you fight?” Caleb paused. “You’re not fine and won’t be until you have claimed a mate that will give you the access to the potency you need.”
“I know how to fight!” He hadn’t proven it just now, but how many men like Kristoff Dumanovsky lay in wait? There was only one.
“When the fight is fair, or when you are fighting a human. But, your uncle? He just bested you as a man, then as a wolf.”
“He’s a trained killer, Caleb.”
“And? That trained killer taught you, Peter. But, the same missing factor that has failed you in the past fails you now, my Korol. Your uncle is a wolf, a powerful one, but you? You can be so much more.” Caleb’s voice was soft, his tone beseeching. “Yes, we will be there. As your second, I will always be there, but you must be ready to fight both as a man and as the creature eluding you beneath your skin—whatever that may be. You have to be whole.” Caleb looked toward the door. “Why he doesn’t have his own pack is beyond me,” he wondered aloud.
“Are you all blind,” Peter questioned.
“What?”
“To be so aware and miss what’s staring all of you right in the face” Peter shook his head. He took the towel handed over.
“What?”
“Forget it. Look, right now, I have a date to prepare for and after getting wiped across the floor by my mercenary uncle, I will need to clean up first.” He padded toward the bathroom eager for a hot shower to ease his muscles.
Did Caleb need to laugh that loud? Really, Peter growled as his second’s howls carried across the room.
Chapter Eighteen
“A date, big bro?” Deborah questioned. It was nice hearing his sister relaxed for a change. He imagined the warmth of her smile as she enjoyed a glass of wine while chatting with him. The fact she chose tonight to interrogate him when her other choice was reveling in some much-deserved mommy time was a surprise.
Even though they usually talked twice a week, she would tire of twenty questions soon. Still, his younger sister was a marvel, one who’d followed in their father’s footsteps and made him proud. Being a lawyer, like his father wanted, helped with that.
Angelique and Adele, Remi’s nieces, were staying with their grandparents tonight, being spoiled with the love only doting grandparents could give, of course. Deborah grumbled over having to reprogram them later, but it was worth it for her and his brother-in-law to have some alone time.
Cas was out right now but would come home to his wife ready to take her out to a movie and dinner—and later, practice for baby number three. Remi envied their bond, the way they flowed together. Sure, they fought sometimes. What couple didn’t? But, in the end, they had each other’s backs. Remi wanted that, was hungry for someone to call his own, and he saw his chance with Peter.
It surprised him how much he needed Peter now, needed to talk to him. The way he laughed, that sly smile of his, all of him. He wanted it all.
“Yeah, little sis. A date.” Images of Peter’s body popped in his mind, and he smiled.