by Dawn Forrest
If he could somehow secretly be instrumental in Khan’s downfall, he would jump at the chance. He mulled over how he could protect his family and strengthen his Pack when the inevitable chaos and fighting broke out for Khan’s Prime position, if he fell. He needed to be vigilant and ready to recognize an opportunity when it arose. If he could garner favor with Hawke, then perhaps he could negotiate a place of safety within a North American Pack for Zoongaash, his unmated daughter. To be free of worry for her safety would allow him to better secure his own position in India.
His eyes flickered over to where Sean Bruce sat in rapt attention, listening to the speaker as if “blogging”—whatever that was—was the most fascinating and important thing he’d heard all year. Anil didn’t think that Bruce alone could beat Khan, although together with Charles Knight there was a possibility. No, Khan would be prepared by the time they acted, and Anil wouldn’t stake the life of his daughter on their success. His best chance was Will Hawke, who sat heartily munching some sort of little pastry. The Prime was the only werewolf he’d bet on to take down Khan, although he’d heard that the Enforcer Kil Hunt was a ruthless killer who did the bidding of his master. His thoughts were interrupted by a faint, distant howl unlike any he’d heard before. It set his heart racing and a shiver of lust down his spine. It was the sound of a female werewolf in human form, claiming her mate. A thin smile curved his lips because a sound like that might just herald Khan’s demise.
* * * *
Angela quietly entered the hall and placed on a table some photocopies that Will had requested. Poor Brad looked flustered and distracted. While she knew he wasn’t relaxed around the Alphas, he usually got over his discomfort when talking about his favorite projects. She caught Mike’s eye, winked, and smiled, and was about to leave when she noticed that all the males in the hall suddenly sat up straight and cocked their heads. It was as weird as it was funny, but the quizzical smile on her face froze when she heard the soft growls that began to reverberate around the room. As a female Were, her hearing was not nearly as good as a full werewolf’s. What was going on? Brad looked worried, as he also didn’t know. Sean Bruce growled loudly, and Brad sucked in his breath and stepped back.
An Alpha at the back of the room snickered. “I think that we can safely say the Russians are making good progress.”
There were a few snorted chuckles in response.
“Lucky bastards,” muttered another.
Some of the men were fidgeting and looking uncomfortable, even her mate Mike. She narrowed her eyes and targeted his crotch. Typical male, his reaction to what they had all just heard was plain to see. She shouldn’t have been surprised, after all she of all people knew what a horndog he was. They had only left their cabin two days ago after five days of almost continuous fucking. She cocked an eyebrow, gave a little “humph” sound and raised her eyes to his face. She was taken aback by his expression of pure, raw lust and doubted it would be long before she was impaled on his cock again. Her pussy automatically fluttered in response, and she cringed with the notion that soon everyone in the room would know.
To save herself from extreme embarrassment, she fled from the hall, nearly tripping over her own feet in the process. She heard chuckling behind her. In a flustered state she rushed down the corridor toward the office and smacked into the hard body of Mark Smith, a young werewolf chef working in the kitchen of The Den. He, of course, was unaffected, whereas she bounced backward and would have landed on her backside but for his lightning-fast reflexes and snagging her arm in time.
“Whoa there, are you okay?”
“Yeah, sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Well, I was actually looking for you. I have a huge favor to ask.”
“Yes, you can borrow my phone charger again.” The man was always losing his, and she’d already threatened to staple it to his forehead.
“I wish. No, the Siberian Pack Alphas have requested food. It’s ready, but we don’t have any mated males working in the kitchen at the moment, and I don’t think an Alpha would take too kindly to me asking him to take on the role of waiter. The guards won’t do it either, and I don’t want to bother the Prime. He’s already ordered another batch of custard tarts to be made, and we all know what that means.” He covered his mouth with his hand and in an exaggerated whisper said, “He’s a wee bit stressed.”
Angela giggled.
“I was wondering if you could take it? Pretty please?” He batted his eyelashes as his facial expression took on a pleading quality.
“I’m not sure that Mike would allow it,” she responded without thinking what she was actually saying.
He raised his eyebrows. “Well, well, well, I never thought I’d see the day that Angela Marsden became submissive. What happened to the feisty girl I used to know? ’Tis a sad moment.” He sighed, deliberately teasing her.
“Don’t try to play me, squirt.” They were the same age, and she used his childhood nickname. The guy was now six foot three, but he’d been a late developer. “Mike is my mate and soon will be my Alpha, so yes, he has my respect.” Still, his words rattled her.
She could actually feel her mate’s lust and need building. If she wanted to help out, she would have to do it quickly because she guessed she would soon be occupied on her back, her knees, against the wall, and anywhere or anyway the fancy took them. She tugged Mark into the kitchen and out the back door.
“He probably won’t mind now that the mating process seems to be on the way,” she said, trying to convince herself more than Mark.
“Yeah, I’ve never heard a sound like that before.” His face flushed a little. “You’re lucky, Angela. I hope I don’t have to wait too long to find my mate.”
She softened her expression. “I hope so, too, Mark.”
Sadly they both knew that it would most likely be many years before he had that pleasure.
“You drive the Jeep around to the kitchen door, and I’ll load the food in the back. Thanks again, Ange.” He gave her a quick hug then headed back toward the kitchen with relief clearly lightening his steps.
“You owe me,” she called over her shoulder as she went to get the SUV.
Despite her blasé attitude to Mark, she was a bit worried about Mike’s reaction. She wasn’t blindly or willfully ignoring his wishes, but she had her own reasons, good reasons, for wanting to see Joanna, and she didn’t think she should have to run them by Mike first. Joanna was here alone and unfamiliar with their ways. She had no one else to look out for her, and Angela thought that she could use a friend.
She was nervous about tomorrow night, worried that Mike in his beast form would be too big, rough, or that the knotting would hurt. Her heart began to pace at the thought, so she took a deep breath to try to calm herself and remembered what her mom and other mated women had said. They all had experienced fright that first full-moon night until the mating pheromones began to work. The deed itself was over fairly quickly, although mates could be knotted together for up to twenty minutes. Not being concerned with sexual etiquette, the beast would then usually lope off to run and hunt close by, often returning to present a kill to his mate and fuck again. The night was hard on females, but the sexual bliss was said to surpass all minor complaints.
Joanna’s situation was different in several ways, but Angela remembered hearing a rumor about a Chilean female Were who was mated to Beta twins of the Andean Pack. Apparently neither male wanted to wait for the other to fuck and finish, so they had mated her at the same time. The woman would no doubt have enjoyed it due to the hormones pumping around her body while the werewolves pumped in her, but apparently she had trouble walking for a few days after. Ouch. Should she tell Jo about that? Would it scare her or enable her to prepare?
Angela decided that she would hint without mentioning the later discomfort of the woman. She would just drop the food off and hopefully have a few quick words with Jo. Mike probably wouldn’t even find out, and if he did he’d just have to learn that he wasn’t the b
oss of her. They had only been mates and lovers for just over a week, and it had all been heady yet smooth sailing. Perhaps this was an ideal test of how he dealt with a little squall.
She drove slowly up the track to the cabin, taking care not to jostle the food and giving the occupants plenty of time to be aware of her approach. When she was about thirty yards away she beeped the horn before parking next to a flashy looking motorcycle covered in scratches. As she got out, the cabin door opened, and one of the twins appeared at the door dressed only with a white towel around his waist. Coming from a Were family and growing up with werewolves around, she was used to seeing buff bodies, but she had to admit that he oozed sexuality. Funny, though, a week ago she’d have given him a second and third glance, but now she wasn’t the slightest bit interested. Thank God.
“Hi,” she called out as friendly and cheerily as she could. “I’ve brought your food.”
He looked past her, assessed the area, then nodded and beckoned her forward. He met her at the bottom of the steps.
“Er, congratulations on finding your mate.” The stone-hard expression on his face softened for a fraction of a second.
“Thank you.” He took the large basket and turned to go back up the steps to the cabin.
She cleared her throat and quickly said, “Can I speak to Jo, please?”
He didn’t even turn around as he growled, “Nyet.”
“I–I would like to speak to her, please, Alpha Volkov. My name is Angela Marsden, and like Joanna, I have just found my mate, Mike Evans, Prime of Australia. We will also bond on Thursday, and I thought that Joanna might want to get together to”—she shrugged—“you know…”
“What?” He turned around and fixed her with a stare that made her want to cringe.
Maybe this wasn’t such a super idea. She felt her face heating up but decided to forge on.
“She’s young and on her own. Don’t you think she might need a friend? A girl friend?”
He narrowed his eyes at her but before he could answer she heard another deep voice call, “Joanna, stay inside,” just as the woman herself appeared in the doorway wearing a bathrobe. Of course she would have heard their conversation if she had the same acute senses as other werewolves.
“Hey, Angela. Thanks for bringing the food.” She moved fast down the steps, faster than Angela had ever seen a woman move, and dodged passed the Russian, who was looking pissed. “And it’s very thoughtful of you to think of me.”
A second later the other Russian—she couldn’t tell them apart to know who it was—appeared in the doorway, hastily tucking a towel around his waist. He didn’t look too happy either.
“Give me a minute, will you, Vlad?”
Alpha Vladimir didn’t move.
Joanna gave an exaggerated sigh. “You know that there are no males in the vicinity unless Angela here has vacuum packed and stuffed a few in the back of the vehicle.” She turned to Angela with a smirk on her face. “Have you? Are you really a Trojan horse?”
Angela couldn’t help chuckle. “No, Mike would have a fit. In fact, he will anyway if he finds out I came here.”
Vladimir looked astounded. “Your new mate is not knowing you are here? He is not giving you his permission to come?”
“God, they’re all the same.” She snorted, looking at Joanna, who had a smile on her face. She knew that she was being a bit cheeky, but she’d had enough of all this Alpha bullshit all week.
Vladimir muttered something in Russia that didn’t sound like, “Yay for girl power.”
“Please, can I have just two minutes to talk to my new friend?” Joanna ran her hand down the Alpha’s back and then, unbelievably, squeezed his ass. He jumped a little in surprise, but his stoic expression became amused, then lustful, as he gazed upon his mate. He scanned the area again, looked over his shoulder at his brother and then back at Joanna.
“Da. Do not be long…please.”
Well, at least the man was making an effort. He stomped back up the steps and into the house past Yuri, muttering in Russian. Yuri did not budge from the doorway.
“A little privacy, please,” Joanna almost sang with exasperation.
He grumbled but backed only a few paces from the door.
“They can still hear us, can’t they?” she asked.
“Yep,” Joanna said, raising her voice. Then in rushed words she mumbled, “But if you talk really fast, with a strong accent, use slang or complicated sentences, we should be able to flummox them.”
They both heard the growls from the cabin.
“Are ya okay dokay?” Angela rushed, trying not to laugh.
“S’all green, tickety-boo, no problemo.” Joanna was fighting to keep a straight face.
“Whoop-de-do. If ya wanna chew the fat, just pick up the phone.” She chortled as she mangled the words as best she could.
“Cheers. Are all homies so bossy?”
“Indeedy, mucho-bosscias.” She paused with a frown. “Although my homie seems very mellow for a top doggie.” She shrugged. “Anyway, they want their shorties to be up. Shortie down, homie down, ya dig?”
Joanna started to chuckle. Angela, feeling mischievous, did her best John Wayne impression and slurred her next words in a drawl.
“They’ll be wantin’ the best for their little lady, make no mistake. Ya gotta cotton to the fact they’ll guard you like a dog with a juicy bone.” She thought that analogy particularly fitting given the tenting of the towels she’d noticed. “The varmints’ll do what they think best, even if it runs contrary to your particular way o’ thinkin’.” Perhaps she should have told Mike where she was going, not asked permission as such, she assured herself, rather just let him know.
Joanna was really laughing now. “God, this is bizarre. How ’bout we shoot the breeze tomorrow after addressing the head honchos?” Joanna suggested.
“Sounds mighty fine, but I gotta say somethin’ to ya.” She dropped the accent and spoke quickly, running the words into each other. “Having two mates is unusual, and it may affect how the bonding is done.” She rapidly explained what normally happens but mentioned that there had been instances when it went a bit differently. Blushing profusely, she stumbled over a vague explanation.
Joanna looked puzzled at her. “At the same time…how?”
“Er, well, er, ask your mates.” She switched back to a broad Texan accent. “Don’t rightly know how to explain without blushin’ ma face off, and time’s a-trippin’ on. So long till then ‘n’ enjoy yer men.” Angela winked and headed back to the car as fast as she could. She was glad she’d spoken to Joanna because she liked the woman. She just managed to catch Jo say, “Jeez, stop growling, I’m coming.”
At least Mike’s not that bad. She hadn’t known him long, but he’d been nothing but gentle and very attentive to her. She got in the SUV and headed back to The Den.
So far so good. Mike was not to be seen storming up the track or pacing in front of the large house, so Angela reckoned she’d got away with her little foray to see Jo. She parked at the back of the big house, figuring she would be less visible to those gathered in the hall, and walked into the kitchen.
She heard a deep, menacing growl that had her heart racing in fear.
“Where is she?” demanded a seriously pissed off and dangerous-sounding voice.
All the kitchen staff stood rigid, looking toward the back of the room. Even she could smell their fear. She tracked their gazes and saw that her mate, Mike, had Mark the chef held up against a wall by his neck.
“Oh my God. What are you doing?” she shrieked.
Still pinning Mark, he spun around to face her. His eyes were completely black, his face taut with rage, his fangs protruding past his lips. She could see pinpricks of blood form on Mark’s neck where Mike’s claws punctured the skin. He released the younger werewolf, who slid down the wall and wobbled on uncertain legs as he rubbed his neck. All Mike’s attention was now focused on her.
“Angela,” he growled in what sounded like ang
er and relief. His voice was deep and as gravelly as a scree slope due to his partial change. She hadn’t known he could do that, and she realized that he must have been holding back when they fucked…made love. For the first time since she had met him she felt the full weight of his fierce regard and his absolute authority. God, when he spoke and stared at her like that she felt the urge to bare her throat, whimper her apologies, and go to her knees. In fact, her legs began to tremble, threatening to give way, and she had the very real worry of losing bladder control.
She knew she shouldn’t, knew that it was the absolutely worst thing to do, but her body wasn’t listening as she turned and fled out of the back door. He was on her before she had taken six steps outside. Her feet left the ground, and she was scooped up and thrown over his shoulder without him breaking his stride. He stalked toward their cabin, which wasn’t far from the main house.
He stomped up the steps, kicked open and closed the door, and deposited her in the middle of the room.
He took a few steps back and a deep breath as if it were a struggle to gain calm.
“Never run from a werewolf.” His voice sounded more human again, but he still growled. “We like it.”
Terror and shock prevented her from saying anything. He took a step toward her, but she flinched and whimpered, almost dropping to the floor and baring her throat. It stopped him dead.
“Angela, you are my mate, and I will never hurt you, but a little fear now and then may not be such a bad thing if it keeps you safe.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “I couldn’t sense you in the house, and then I found the chef with your scent on him. When I asked where you were he wouldn’t answer. You are mine, but we are not yet fully bound. I was worried about you. I thought that he was hiding something. You could have been taken by a challenger for my Prime position or been hurt by an unstable male.”