Destiny

by Rachelle Mills et al.

  A deadly promise.

  I looked to my mother, pieces falling into place. “This is why you spoke to the Laoch before we left?”

  She nodded gravely. “I thought they might have information, but Ámhra was just as clueless. He did say he would speak to his chief to find out more.”

  Laoch were the immortal warriors from the land of Tir Na Nog, created by the Gods themselves, charged with being the police of all things otherworldly, all things Fae. They tended to leave us wolves to ourselves, but they occasionally checked in, especially if humans were being threatened. Ámhra was the only Laoch I had ever met, but I doubted he was typical of his race in personality. He was a fun-loving, cheeky being who had been known to my mother’s family for generations.

  “We don’t need the Laoch meddling in this. It’ll only sow seeds of distrust. It will also give the murderer and those behind it a chance to hide. If we act as though we are focused on bringing the pack together, the enemy will slip up,” Alpha Roarke said confidently.

  My mother stood slowly, my father quick to go to her side, but she waved him off. She walked over to my mate and patted his cheek, giving him a gentle smile. “Your parents would be very proud of you if they were here.”

  For a moment, the mask of surety cracked on his face, his eyes shimmered, and he nodded his head slowly.

  “I will uphold the values they taught me. I will make them proud from where they watch in the land of Tir Na Nog,” he vowed.

  I believed him. He would be an Alpha remembered and revered; I was sure of it.

  “For now, I would be honoured if you would help me arrange the celebration as I ask for both your permissions to have your daughter officially become a member of my pack. I will have no one question her position as mine and this pack’s Alpha Female,” he stated, holding my father’s eyes.

  I stilled, nerves making me feel slightly nauseous. Changing packs was a big step, and it would only cement my fate here. There was no avoiding it, but I thought I would have more time, get to know the pack before joining.

  “I would love to help!” my mother gushed, becoming more animated than I had seen her in a while.

  Her grin was infectious, as was her excitement. I couldn’t help but smile. I stood and made my way slowly around the table, my eyes never leaving my mate’s. His eyes were drawn to my movement, watching the sway of my hips with the eyes of his wolf.

  “I accept your request. I always knew she was destined to be more than she was in our pack. She will blossom at your side, I have no doubt,” my father mused.

  Before I could pass by him, he held my shoulder and brushed his cheek to mine. “My pup. Leaving the pack to become an Alpha Female. I am proud of you.”

  I blushed, wondering if he knew how against this I had been. He must have heard what happened at lunch earlier today, but it was never mentioned. Roarke held his hand out for me, and I was hesitant to take it. As our fingers touched, heat zinged up my hand, my skin tingling, the bond sighing in relief. I had been fighting to stay away from him for hours, becoming more and more tense as it became harder to keep my distance. It had felt like an elastic band getting tighter with each second, and our touch was it snapping back together.

  “Thank you, Alpha Everett. I trust your mate to arrange everything. I lack the female touch needed,” he chuckled, “and I intend to keep my mate by my side for a while.”

  My mother shook her head with a laugh. “I enjoy this sort of thing. I will invite a few of the surrounding packs to attend so it is seen by all. Enjoy your time together before you struggle to find a quiet moment as responsibilities mount up.”

  The thought of all those Alphas watching my being accepted had the nerves returning. My grip tightened on Roarke’s hand unconsciously, and then the thought of being alone with him had butterflies going wild in my stomach. Would he expect us to mate? If I refused to, would it get to the point where his wolf would try to mount mine if we ran in our fur?

  “Settle,” Roarke murmured by my ear, his lips moving lower to brush my neck and then my shoulder where his mark rested. I hadn’t even noticed him come so close. “I’m not ever going to ask for more than you are willing to give, my female.”

  His sound was so primal. Even his words had a harsh edge to them that had me biting my lip. My wolf wanted out; she wanted to saturate him in our scent, mark his fur, prostrate herself for him to take. My father suddenly looked very uncomfortable, and my mother quickly ushered him out of the room to give us privacy.

  Roarke growled low from next to me, pushing me against the wall with his chest pressed flush against mine so I could feel the heat of him. My eyes were wide with confusion until he leaned down and inhaled deeply, his eyes glowing. My arousal was in the air.

  “You smell like desire, my female,” he groaned, lifting my chin up.

  My breathing quickened, and I cursed my nature. I was a woman mated to a powerful male; of course I would find myself attracted to him.

  “My wolf desires you,” I stated honestly, not flinching from his gaze.

  He chuckled huskily, his nose against my throat, warm hands on my hips. With my next breath, I could smell his own want, so thick in the air that it was overwhelming, stealing my ability to think.

  My hands found their way to his chest, feeling the strong pounding of his heart beneath my touch.

  “And you? Do you desire me?” he asked, hope clear in his tone as he nuzzled his mark, only making my control slip further to my instincts as heat began to pool low.

  “I…my nature makes me want you,” I stammered, unsure if that was even the whole truth anymore. Yesterday it would have been, but now?

  He seemed unhappy with my answer. “You’re lying. We are bonded. I can feel your truth.”

  “I am not lying!” I protested then moaned as he gently nipped overly sensitive skin.

  “Do I need to show you what happens to females who lie to their Alpha?”

  Gods, I both melted and got angry. Part of me wanted to push his boundaries to see if he would go through with his threat, my wolf telling me I would enjoy the outcome, while the other part of me wanted to push him away and show fangs for daring to touch me the way he was. Had I not made my boundaries clear? Had he not just said that he would not ask for more than I was willing to give?

  He pressed harder against me until I could feel every hard line of his muscled body against the soft curves of my own. Arousal was evident in the bulge that pressed against my stomach, and my thighs pressed together to ease the ache that had started. I was lost to the urges of my body and was so close to giving in. The sound of laughter echoing through the house had me snapping back to reality, and I shoved him away, my skin flushing red. He watched me as I ran from him, slamming the door against the wall as I opened it. Fresh air was what I needed, and I found the nearest door to the outside and stumbled out, taking greedy gulps of air.

  Instinct and nature screamed at my actions. My wolf cried out in frustration, clawing at me until I was forced to shift to fur to find relief. This was dangerous, a newly mated she-wolf who was forced to go against her wants. Claws dug into soft grass, growls tearing through the air and drawing attention. I pushed for her to let skin return, but she refused; she was feral and would not be tamed until she got what she wanted: her mate.

  Faces appeared at the window and around the garden, wondering what all the noise was about. Their presence only angered me further, making me feel skittish. I didn’t want anyone to see me so vulnerable and torn.

  Roarke ran out the door a few moments later, his eyes zeroing in on me. I turned to face him, growls still rolling from my chest. The fight still raged on inside me so much that I was unsure whether it was my wolf or me in control. It felt like I was being tugged in two separate directions again, instinct fighting will like they had been since I had arrived here.

  Roarke watched me carefully, studying my movements. I could feel him prodding through the bond, feelings of calm seeping through. My fur softened against my skin,
lips covering fangs as my wolf whimpered.

  “I shouldn’t have touched you like that. I’m sorry, Cathwulf. Forgive me,” he apologised, crouching in front of me, turning his head to the side for my wolf to scent him.

  He wasn’t submitting to me, he would never do that, but he was admitting to his mistakes and seeking forgiveness. I nuzzled into his neck, my tongue swiping over the mark there as I rumbled in contentment. My skin settled back, ready to snatch control the second my wolf tried anything that took things too far.

  His fingers scratched soothingly behind my ear, my head tipping to the side, eyes closing.

  “I don’t think I told you how beautiful your fur is. You’re a very beautiful female.”

  My wolf puffed up, taking the compliment with a wagging tail. He thought I was beautiful, and even I would have preened at such a compliment to my skin. He chuckled as instinct urged me to push closer, to rub my body all over his so everyone could smell my scent on him and his on me.

  I trusted him to be more careful in the future; he was honourable.

  When he stood, I felt the loss of his touch but was quickly happy again when he shifted to his wolf. I had forgotten how massive he was next to me in size and brawn.

  The crowd that had gathered slowly dispersed, only a few lingering to watch their new Alpha pair interact. It was important for them to see us getting along as a unified couple. It comforted them.

  Playful nips were shared, our bodies bumping together as my wolf greeted his. I was surprised when he pushed me to the ground, my head lifting curiously, but he gave me a soothing chuff. He rubbed his head against my side, his whole body pressing against me, fur brushing fur. He was claiming me in the only way I would allow his wolf to. His tongue bathed me, staying away from between my legs but not missing my tail. It was oddly relaxing, washing away the last of the tension from my body. Once he was satisfied, he let me back up, and when I breathed in, all I could smell was him.

  He was feeling smug. Waves of his emotion were passing through the bond, his pride at my scent now masked by his having him stand taller. Ears perked forward, I listened to his sound of contentment that vibrated through the earth.

  I was no longer mad at him for letting his instincts control him.

  Chapter Eight

  Confrontation

  Hours were spent rolling around on the grass, playing with my mate, getting to know the nature of his wolf. I hated to admit that I was enjoying myself as much as my wolf was. When he wasn’t forced to be the stoic Alpha, he was funny, soft, caring, attentive. He even allowed some of the pups to join in, pretending to cower away and fall with injuries to encourage them until they ran off to play chase.

  Teeth nipped fur, we pushed each other over, but I knew that he was letting me have the upper hand because there was no way I could best him. He was Alpha for a reason, and although my training was extensive, he was all muscle and swift movements, knowing what move I’d make before I even thought it myself. Perhaps I was too predictable or perhaps because he could feel me through the bond, he could feel my next move.

  We lunged at each other and once more found ourselves rolling across the ground. Anytime my wolf got close to his throat, he would remind her of her place with a warning growl.

  Others had joined us outside, bathing in the harsh sun, playing with sons, daughters, brothers and sisters, spending time together as a pack. I could even spot a few members of my father’s pack amongst them, catching up with family they had left here, showing off how big their pups had gotten.

  I took a moment to look around while Roarke lay on his side, panting to cool down.

  Seaghán and Hanna were sitting on a bench, heads close together, whispering things meant only for each other. They were a couple completely in sync with each other, and although their mating was a rare arranged one, they were meant for each other. They had fallen in love during their time forced together, and the mating had been easy, unlike my own.

  I wanted what they had, love.

  I moved my attention from them back to the grey, white, and black speckled alpha wolf in front of me. He gave me a wolfish grin, fangs glinting in the sun. He stood again, a playful growl rumbling from the depths of his chest as he dared me to attack.

  Crouched low, my shoulders rolled as I prepared to pounce, russet fur catching the sun’s rays that turned it into a startling copper.

  Roarke’s wolf looked amused, ready for my attack, his ears tilted forward. He was taunting me, acting as if it were of no effort to avoid my claws that were digging into the ground to help me gain momentum. In all fairness, it maybe wasn’t any challenge for him, and it made me want to be better, to train harder. Widening my stance, I searched my mate for any weakness, but he stood as rooted as a tree.

  The front door opened, grabbing his attention, and I used this as my opportunity. Springing forward, I barrelled into Roarke’s side, a yelp leaving him in surprise. We both tumbled to the ground, my weight on top of his.

  I grinned, feeling proud that I’d caught him off guard until I realised who it was that had left the house and distracted my mate.

  Brenna.

  Dark brown eyes bored into mine, anger and jealousy in their depths. I leapt back to my feet, baring fangs at her, daring her to test me as I stood in front of my mate to make it clear who he belonged to. Roarke didn’t move, simply observed, knowing his interference would reflect badly on me. If Roarke fought my battles for me, I would be seen as weak, and the challenges would never stop, especially with some of the pack around to watch.

  Brenna’s eyes flashed the gold of her wolf, accepting my challenge without thought. She may be a high ranked female, but I was the daughter of Alphas.

  My hackles raised, I prepared myself for the coming confrontation, eyes observing the way she moved.

  “You don’t deserve him. He was meant to be mine; he only chose you because he had no choice and you don’t even want him,” Brenna hissed before stepping forward into her shift with practised ease.

  Her dark brown wolf snapped jaws at me, and that’s when I’d had enough. I gave in to my feral side, my wolf leading me as I pounced forward, going for her throat. We rolled to the ground, the air echoing with the sounds of our fight.

  She raked at my shoulder, drawing a yelp of pain from me, but it wasn’t enough to slow me down. I circled around her, looking for a weakness, but this female held herself well. It wasn’t any surprise to me; her father was head of the warriors, and I was sure Brenna followed in his footsteps. The whole pack was watching, and this was my chance to prove myself. Beating Brenna would solidify my place here, would give me the respect of its members, making it easier to make myself at home.

  I let Brenna launch herself forward, crouching low so she flew over me, my teeth biting into her belly and ripping off flesh and fur. She whined as she missed her footing, landing on her belly. I took this chance to jump, aiming for the same wound to really incapacitate her, but she scrambled out of the way just in time. Brenna barrelled into my side and I rolled, using the momentum to get back to my feet, quickly dodging the snap of fangs at my face. She may have been stronger, but I was faster.

  Feigning left, Brenna stepped right into me as I quickly changed direction, my paw pushing her off balance as I finally got her throat between my teeth.

  Her claws caught my side as I got a hold of the scruff of her neck, but adrenaline kept me from feeling the pain. The copper scent of blood wafted towards me, my blood. I gave it no notice, forcing Brenna to the ground. I widened my stance, closing my jaws around her neck, growling low, showing her that I could kill her. She struggled beneath me, whimpering and whining as she showed me her belly and stretched out her neck as far as she could with my teeth slowly sinking past fur to pierce flesh.

  I should have stopped, should have released her, but my nature was compelling me to take her life as mine. I had warned her once already; that should have been enough. The pack watched with bated breath. I could hear someone shouting Brenna’s nam
e, a voice I recognised but couldn’t place in this state of mind.

  Roarke moved into my line of sight, now in his skin and gloriously naked, ready to move if he needed to. That was almost enough to distract me.

  “You have her throat, my female. Let her go lick her wounds now that she knows her place. Let me tend to you. Enough is enough,” he ordered, his eyes on the cowering wolf beneath me.

  That only angered my wolf more. His eyes should have been on me. My jaw squeezed harder, teeth tearing flesh and tongue tasting blood.

  A pinching pain to my ear had me releasing my prey and trying to ease the pain by getting closer to Roarke. I whimpered, my neck stretched as he tightened his grip on me then grabbed the scruff of my neck to pull me further away from Brenna.

  “Settle,” he commanded fiercely.

  Gods, I was beginning to hate that word.

  He didn’t let me go, dragging me like a disobedient pup until I was back in his office, where he then disappeared through a side door, leaving me alone. I morphed back, groaning as all my injuries made themselves known with shifting skin, muscle, and bones. Bleeding gouges littered my skin, worse on my side that burned where Brenna’s claws had torn easily through.

  Roarke came back with a first aid kit, his face tense as he looked over my injuries. I’d had worse.

  “Sit down. We need to clean them up. The ones on your side might need stitches,” he muttered, motioning for me to take a seat on the couch.

  “You’re angry,” I observed, sitting down carefully, studying the dried blood covering me like splattered paint.

  “Yes, I’m angry, Cathwulf,” he snapped.

  My head ducked at his tone, and I suddenly felt very exposed in my nakedness, even though I knew his eyes were only on my wounds.

  His touch was gentle as he inspected me, my skin heating where his fingers lingered. He took the alcohol wipes and began cleaning my skin of blood. The occasional hiss left me as the wipes burned cuts or he pressed too hard on already bruising flesh, making me squirm.