by RJ Blain
“I don’t think I can tell the Shadow Pope you’re unavailable to talk with him because you’re too busy sleeping.”
I tensed, whining at the thought of having to deal with the Inquisition, the Shadow Pope, or anyone related to our business in New York. Shame over what I done at yesterday’s party welled up, and I shook. Sanders rolled, gathering me close, and held me.
“Shh, Sara,” he soothed. “You have nothing to worry about, darling. I’m not going to let anyone do anything to you.”
I felt the bed shift as Desmond sat on the edge near me. “His Eminence fully intends to dress my Third down for the events leading up to last night, and I thought you’d want to at least have a chance to say your piece, Sanders. I kept him as my Third instead of shuffling the pack structure around, planning for when you do manage to take the pack from me. I’m unashamed to confirm I have you two so locked out of the rest of the pack bonds they can’t sense either one of you. This has caused a certain amount of panic and dismay among them. If you’re lucky, you’ll also get to hear me reprimanded for taking over your pack without his permission.”
“You still haven’t told them I’m alive?” Alarm laced my mate’s voice, and he lurched upright, clinging to me so I wouldn’t fall. I growled, snatching at the blanket so I wouldn’t flash Desmond.
“Why would I do that? Each and every one of those mongrels deserves it.”
“Desmond,” my mate whined in protest. I twisted around, baring my teeth while growling at our Alpha.
“Sara, don’t make me put you in your place,” Desmond warned, his eyes glinting yellow.
My wolf, tired of being pushed around, tired of being treated like the lowest rung on the totem, refused to back down, forcing a snarl out of my throat.
“When you figure out where her place is, do let me know,” my mate murmured. He circled his arms around my chest and pulled me against him, ignoring my growls. I twisted around and clamped my teeth onto his chin.
Hissing in pain, my mate remained still until I released him. “Vicious little beast this morning, aren’t you?”
“You’re supposed to be sleeping with me, not talking,” I grumbled.
“Again? You’re insatiable,” he replied, and his scent sweetened with his amusement and pleasure.
While I hadn’t meant it like that, I had no complaints, and while my wolf was more than satisfied, I turned my attention to his throat.
Desmond coughed. “Phone call.”
“More sleep, less talk,” I replied, licking my lips as I contemplated how hard I wanted to nip my mate. It wouldn’t take much to reignite his interest in me, but between me and my wolf, we had figured out the harder we bit him, the more enthusiastic he became.
“Come on, you two. I promised I’d call in.” Desmond checked his watch. “In less than five minutes, actually. Throw on some bathrobes, come to the dining room, and let’s be done with it. Then you can go back to sleep. I will not accept no for an answer. March, both of you.”
Sanders wrinkled his nose. “There will be bodies if anyone makes Sara cry.”
“You may have to wait until we go hunting the witch and rogue Fenerec for that satisfaction. Considering the witch is partially to blame for this situation, she should prove satisfying prey for you.”
I growled, pointing at the doorway, “Out.”
“Five minutes,” Desmond replied, hopping off the edge of the bed. “I will come in here and yank you both out of bed by your ears if I must.”
“He really will,” my mate warned, grumbling curses. Once Desmond was gone, Sanders escaped from the blankets and got out of bed to grab one of the two bathrobes lying on the floor. He tossed the other one to me.
Stifling a groan, I wrapped myself in it, hissing at my sore, stiff muscles. “How the hell can he be so awake?”
My mate laughed. “I have my doubts Wendy kept him awake until eight in the morning.”
“His loss.”
“Enjoyed it, did you?” Smiling, he scooped me up and kissed my cheek. “Seeing you’re wincing just putting on your robe, I shall spare you the indignity of waddling out to the living room. Don’t worry, my dear. Being the lovely Fenerec you are, you should be fully recovered by this evening so I can ravage you again.”
“Promise?”
“As soon as we’re back at the hotel tonight, I promise I will have my way with you. It’ll be difficult to top last night, but I’ll try.” He smiled at me, bounced me in his arms to adjust his hold on me, and carried me to the dining room.
“So, your lady can’t walk on her own this morning?” Desmond asked, arching a brow.
“Forget walking, she had enough trouble getting into her robe,” my mate reported, smirking his satisfaction.
“How late were you two up?”
“I make no promises we won’t snap and snarl at people on the phone,” my mate replied. “Can we do this in the living room? Couches are more comfortable, and in this room, I feel like one of us needs a crown and we should have servants. I’m pretty certain Empress Sara would force us to do menial tasks. This place is really excessive.”
“There is a reason it’s the hotel’s most expensive suite, Sanders,” Desmond replied, scooping his phone up and pocketing it. “Living room it is.”
I ended up stretched on the couch with my head resting on my mate’s lap. Desmond sat on the armchair nearest to us, set his phone on the coffee table, and dialed a number, enabling speakerphone. When the operator answered, he said, “Topside, please. It’s Desmond.”
“Connecting.”
“Good morning, Charles,” the Shadow Pope said. “I have Joseph, your mate, and Chrissy on the line, along with Dustin and Holly. Wendy has mostly filled me in, although she has been remarkably quiet regarding certain key points. Joseph and Chrissy are convinced you killed their Alpha taking over Seattle. Why might this be?”
Desmond put his finger to his lips and glared at my mate, who looked up at the ceiling as though pleading for patience before acknowledging our Alpha with a nod. “Ah, Matthew Sanders. He put up a fight.”
The Shadow Pope sighed. “You’re toying with me, aren’t you?”
“Would I do something like that? Preposterous. Maybe I just wanted to take over Seattle’s pack for the fun of it.” Desmond replied, shaking his head. “He’s alive, and until I determine that the rest of the pack has learned their lesson, he’s my hostage, as is his mate. They’re quarantined and will remain so until I’m satisfied his mate won’t be targeted again. I will not tolerate any more interference with their pairing, unless you really want a Fenerec as cunning and strong as Sanders going completely wild. Should another incident like last night happen, I doubt I’ll be able to control him. I’d be forced to kill him, which is the last thing I want. Without full support and cooperation from the pack, which he currently does not have, I would not be able to contain him without it turning into a lethal conflict, one I would win.”
I tensed, my eyes widening at the thought of them killing my mate. Sanders rested his hand on my throat and massaged me until I relaxed under his touch.
“I see. While Wendy explained Miss Madison attempted suicide last night, she did not fully explain the circumstances leading to this or the severity of her injuries.”
I bit my lip, closed my eyes, and buried my face against Sanders’s stomach, trembling at the reminder of what I had done. What I didn’t understand was why the Shadow Pope was pretending he didn’t know the details; I remembered Desmond and Dustin talking to him the night before.
“I think Dustin is the best to explain the severity of what happened last night,” Desmond replied.
“Of course, Mr. Desmond,” Dustin said, his voice quiet. “She drowned, Your Eminence. Judging from the state of her body after I pulled her out of the ocean, she succumbed to hypothermia before submerging. Had she been human, she would have been declared dead by the time we got her on the shore. Her mate’s stubborn determination saved her, barely. He performed CPR for approximately five
minutes before she responded. Mr. Desmond, at my recommendation, forced her to transform from human to wolf and back again to facilitate her recovery.”
“These transformations were necessary?”
“The water temperature was slightly above freezing, sir, which is unseasonably cold for this time of year. If we make the assumption she entered the ocean shortly after the triggering dispute, she was exposed to the water for approximately thirty minutes. In Normals, ten to twenty minutes is sufficient time to cause loss of motor function and potential death. Miss Madison is very lean, sir. The woman simply doesn’t have a speck of excess fat in her body, which puts her at a substantial disadvantage. Fat helps the body maintain its temperature in cold water.”
“Get to the point, Dustin,” the Shadow Pope demanded.
“She technically died from hypothermia before she submerged. Her entire body ceased functioning. I found her fifty feet from shore, sir. While it’s possible she was in shallower water and was swept out, I’m more inclined to believe she intentionally headed for deeper water. Anyway, in Normals, brain cells begin to die within a minute without oxygen. Let’s assume she was breathing until the moment she submerged. It took approximately five minutes to resuscitate her, which is two minutes longer than Normals can withstand without substantial brain damage. It took me approximately a minute to get her out of the water once we found her. What I do not know is if she had already drowned prior to Mr. Sanders becoming aware of his mate’s plight. Fortunately, the fact she succumbed to hypothermia may have helped her survivability. In short, her body temperature dropped low enough fast enough to allow organ recovery.”
“So, you’re essentially telling me she didn’t attempt suicide, but that she successfully suicided.”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying, sir. Considering the compromised state of their mating bond due to the pack’s interference, it doesn’t surprise me it took her death for him to realize the severity of her situation. This was compounded by the fact she wanted to die, so she did not perceive danger. If she had perceived a threat or danger, it would have reflected to him through the mating bond. As her wolf was likewise driven to suicide, he had no way of knowing her intent. A Normal would have had little to no chance of resuscitation, sir. It was touch and go for a few minutes, but she did, ultimately, survive.”
I clutched at my mate’s robe, fighting against the urge to sob about what I had done. Working his arms under me, my mate lifted me up and cradled me against him. “Shh, darling. It’s okay,” he whispered.
Rising from his chair, Desmond sat on the arm of the couch, reached out, and gripped the back of my neck. The warm sensation my wolf so loved intensified, soothing her.
“And her situation now?” The Shadow Pope’s displeasure deepened his voice.
“Physically, I expect she’ll be fully recovered sometime today, sir. Mentally and emotionally? I can’t answer that question for you. Considering the trauma she has endured, she may not recover. I strongly recommend you remove both Mr. Sanders and Miss Madison from this operation, sir. While she’s physically capable of dealing with the gala, she may not remain stable on a hunt of the scale we’re planning. The best thing for her at this point is time with her mate.”
“I’ll consider it. Miss Madison and Mr. Sanders are critical for at least the early stage of the operation. I approve their removal from the operation as soon as the targets have been identified. Since Miss Madison is the primary target of our unknown quarry, having her present is necessary. That said, considering Mr. Simons is of the belief Mr. Sanders was killed during the takeover of Seattle’s pack, I think it’s necessary to confirm both of them are actually alive,” the Shadow Pope replied.
Without releasing me, Desmond nodded to my mate, who sighed. “Hello, sir.”
“Ah, good morning, Matthew. Listening in, were you?”
“Not by choice, I assure you. I’ve had maybe two hours of sleep and no coffee,” he growled.
“What is your mate’s condition?”
“She’s alive,” he replied, his voice as tense as his body.
Dustin cleared his throat. “Accept it for the victory it is, sir.”
“Very well. How did this escalate to this level?” Something crumpled on the other end of the line, and the Shadow Pope sighed. “Why can’t I get nice phone calls about you, Mr. Sanders? I’m at the point I don’t want to hear your name unless I’m being told there’s a wedding or some other good piece of news.”
“We have a saying in Vegas, sir,” Holly stated. “Where a Desmond goes, trouble follows. Unfortunately, it seems Mr. Sanders is the one troubled by the Desmond curse this time.”
“Cute, Holly,” Desmond grumbled.
“It’s true, sir.”
“It may be true, but you don’t have to say it,” my Alpha complained. “The reason for the escalation, sir, I feel is a compound problem. Mr. Sanders is a rather hot and desired commodity among bitches, as you’re well aware. Seattle’s pack has several bitches, both Fenerec-born and Fenerec, who have expressed interest in him. The fact an unknown, young bitch sank her teeth into him likely didn’t sit well with them. Considering Matthew’s nature and her circumstances, they’re an excellent pairing. She had actually caught his interest before she became a Fenerec, sir.”
“While I’m aware she’s a rogue-born, are there other circumstances I should be aware of?”
Desmond sighed. “Joseph, Chrissy, I will be expecting you to discreetly pass this information to the rest of the pack, along with a very thorough explanation on why your attitudes will change immediately. Am I understood?”
“Yes, sir,” they replied in a whisper.
“Sir, she’s not a rogue-born in the traditional sense. Being blunt, sir, she was the prey of rogues. They were eating her alive when she spontaneously changed. There is a reason we discourage rituals during the hours surrounding the peak of a blood moon. There was no ritual involved with her becoming a Fenerec. To fight the Fenerec killing her, she became a Fenerec. Due to Mr. Sanders’s interest in her, I arranged things so he might meet her again. That was when we discovered she was one of our kind, and I felt it wise to further encourage his interest. It seems she was likewise interested in him prior to her conversion, which resulted in the mating bond taking hold as soon as they were left alone in the same room together for more than five minutes.”
I blushed, and my mate pulled away and smiled at me before dipping his head down to kiss my throat. Closing my eyes, I sighed at the pleasant shivers he sent coursing through me. He nipped me once, but instead of the surge of lust I expected, every muscle in my body relaxed, and I slumped against him. His contented scent filled my nose, and he held me close. After a moment, Desmond eased his grip on me and returned to his chair.
“You can’t leave them in the same room together without one of them trying to start something,” my Alpha admitted in a wry tone. “I confess it affected my decision to takeover Seattle’s pack temporarily. He needs the time to settle down as much as she needs the time to recover from this month. I’m considering it a mating gift to the both of them, while also ensuring there are no future incidents. It will give us a chance to teach her and her wolf how to function in a pack, as she does not have many of the instincts traditional Fenerec do, True-born included.”
“What do you meant by that?”
“Traditionally, Fenerec determine their rank in the pack during their first hunt, which coincides with the performance of their ritual. Miss Madison never went through a ritual and has never been on a hunt. However, after observing her interactions with myself, Wendy, and her mate, I’ve come to the conclusion she would have found integration into the pack difficult at best.”
My mate growled, tightening his hold on me. “What do you mean by that, Desmond?”
“Settle down, Sanders. Think about it. What happened when we first found her and Wendy introduced herself as a wolf?”
I wrinkled my nose at the memory.
“She submitted,” my
mate replied. “She showed immediate submissive tendencies.”
“And when I suggested she sleep with me?”
Growling, I twisted in Sanders’s arms to glare at Desmond.
“I do believe she sincerely tried to rip your face off. I think she’s still mad at you over that stunt, Desmond.”
“She bit the hell out of you at Rob’s place, too.”
“As is her right as my mate.”
“She’s attacked me at least three times so far,” Desmond commented, grinning at me. “I’m the biggest wolf on this block, and she’s utterly unafraid of me. Now why might that be?”
“Because you’re an idiot, and she knows you aren’t going to do a single thing to her,” Wendy commented. “Stop taunting them.”
“Don’t ruin my fun, Wendy.”
“She attacked you?” the Shadow Pope blurted.
“She’s delightfully vicious when she wants to be,” my Alpha reported, his tone pleased. “She tends to get most riled up when she thinks I’m doing something to her mate. You should have seen her last night when I yanked Seattle’s pack away from him. With her exhausted, stressed, and hungry, it still took both of us to control her. It was justified, since she got the backlash of the takeover. She thought I was actually hurting him when I wasn’t.”
“I’m impressed with your restraint, Mr. Desmond,” the Shadow Pope replied.
“I was aware of the possibility of her attacking me over it. I had bitten her to prevent it, but it seems she’s very determined when she needs to be. That’s the problem with Fenerec like her, sir, and the reason why things escalated as they did.”
“I am failing to understand what you’re so subtly hinting at, Desmond. Just tell us, or we’ll be playing guessing games all morning.”
“The reason for what she did last night is simple. Her role in the pack is to fix problems. Unfortunately, she perceived herself as the problem due to the influence of jealous, petty wolves. In her desperation, she demanded to be removed from the pack, but when it didn’t go over well with her mate, she snapped. She came to the conclusion the only solution to the problem was to permanently remove herself from the equation.”