For a moment, Neela looked as though she was considering ripping out Aunt Lila’s throat. Then she turned back to Grey. “Enough evidence points to your mate that I cannot overlook her as the prime suspect. Unless someone else confesses to the murder, Arabelle Winton remains imputed.”
“My name is Arabelle Burke,” I said. I was tired of everyone discussing me as though I weren’t in the room. “I assume you’ll need my legal name for any forthcoming proceedings.” I felt utterly self-conscious, but I would not be railroaded—especially not by the likes of Neela. She didn’t like me correcting her, but for heaven’s sake the woman didn’t like anything about me, the least of all which I was mated to the man she wanted. Hmph! No conflict of interest there! “In case anyone was wondering, I didn’t kill this Murdock fellow.” I blew out a sigh. “Am I allowed to have a lawyer?”
“An advocate,” said Grey. He glanced at Colt, who nodded.
“I’ll be your advocate.” Colt offered a grim smile. “We’ll get you through this, Belle.”
“Thank you.” I stared at Neela until she frowned. She wouldn’t look away, not like she had with Grey, but I think she realized I wasn’t going to be cowed by her. “I would like a moment alone to dress and say good-bye to my husband.”
“I don’t—”
“Of course.” Aunt Lila cut off Neela’s protest with a firmness that surprised the enforcer. The look of steel in Aunt Lila’s gaze brooked no argument, either. Neela conceded with a sharp nod. She’d won, after all. I was going with her—right to werewolf jail.
“Five minutes.” With that snotty declaration, Neela strode out of the den, followed by Aunt Lila and Colt, who shut the door behind him.
I slid out of bed and picked up my clothing from the floor. I cast my eyes down, unwilling to meet Grey’s gaze. I was unaccountably disappointed that he had not stood up for me. It would’ve been quite a thrill to see him toss Neela out on her perfect ass. That’s enough of that, Belle. I would fight my own battles. God had given me a brain, and I was going to use it to get myself out of this mess.
Even though I didn’t really want to get dressed in front of him, especially since I could feel the heat of his stare on me, I did it anyway. My hands shook and my heart thumped and I felt dizzy, but I managed to put on everything including my shoes.
“Do you have my purse?” I asked.
“Arabelle.”
My name sounded like penance, so I lifted my head and met his gaze.
“The pack operates with a strict order. Our laws are immutable. It’s how we function as a society, how we keep the peace in our community. If the enforcer leader brings an accusation—it’s the only instance she can override my authority.”
“Honor and duty to the pack,” I said. “I understand.”
He studied my face and frowned. “You understand, but you’re disappointed in me.” He seemed perplexed. “You shouldn’t be.”
“Why not?”
Grey was taken aback by the question.
“In a human marriage,” I explained, “a wife expects support from her husband.”
“I’m the alpha. The pack relies on me to hold closest to our laws, to keep the purest approach to our ways of life. There aren’t individuals in the pack. We all work together for the common good.”
“I understand that, too. I just need you tell me…What am I, exactly?” I asked. My tone held no hostility, only curiosity. “I’ll need your specific definition of wife—or mate. I have every intention of performing my duties.”
“I don’t want a robot, Arabelle. I expect you to contribute in many ways. You’re strong and passionate and smart.” He moved forward and put his hands on my shoulders. “I don’t want you to shut off any part of yourself from me.”
I inhaled a steadying breath. “All right. But my feelings are my own. I won’t bellyache about my lot in life, and I’ll follow the pack rules, but I get to feel anyway I want.”
“Of course.” He leaned down and kissed my forehead. “I won’t let you down, Arabelle. I’ll do everything possible to clear your name and find out the truth about Murdock’s murder.”
You and me both. My heart dropped to my stomach. I couldn’t believe I was getting locked up for losing my compact in the wrong place.
“Your purse is in the nightstand. It will only take me a few minutes to get dressed.”
“You’re going with me?”
Grey nodded. “As you say, Arabelle—a husband supports his wife.”
* * *
TO MY SURPRISE, I was not led out in chains to a waiting werewolf cop car and hauled to the jail at the compound. First, Neela hadn’t gotten to use the manacles she’d actually brought. Grey said “no” in a tone that had Neela scowling, but backing away instantly. Second, there was no such thing as a werewolf cop car. And finally, the compound was accessed through underground tunnels that crisscrossed beneath the temple. Humans didn’t visit werewolf dens. Most humans didn’t know about shifters and those who did were usually the ones marrying into a pack.
So, I hadn’t really known the location of the Shadow Pack’s fortification. It appeared to be connected to the temple. The passageways were lit by flickering torches that cast shadows onto the walls like spattered ink. As I was marched through the stone-carved channels, the entire experience took on a surreal quality.
Neela led the way, followed by Colt. Grey and I walked side by side. Behind us loped two very large, very scary werewolves. After Grey and Aunt Lila had a private conversation away from the rest of us, the sweet woman hugged me good-bye and promised she would see me later. She had the determined look of a crusader as she hurried away, and I had feeling she was going to do her all-fire best to help me.
If the alpha couldn’t make all this nonsense go away then I needed all the help I could get.
I was guessing nearly an hour had passed before we’d reached the tunnel to the werewolf’s underground prison. Neela quickened her pace and within minutes we’d reached a heavily fortified door. The jail, I presumed. Neela opened it with an iron key she kept God knew where in that tight outfit of hers, and breezed through with a huge, fierce smile on her face. I think if the woman got any happier about my impending incarceration, she’d burst into song.
Wrought-iron doors that seemed to belong in medieval dungeons lined each side. It was deathly quiet in here, only the sounds of shoes clattering on stone and my nervous breathing echoed within. I had no idea if any of the cells were occupied. If so, the prisoners were not the noisy type.
A solid wall of red stone marked the end of the prison ward.
A man stood there waiting for us. Like every werewolf I’d seen, he wore his sand brown hair long—all the way down to his waist. He wasn’t quite as tall or broad as Grey and Colt, but he had a very fit, muscled frame. He wore an Oxford shirt tucked into dress pants and a pair of high end designer shoes. He looked as though he’d just stepped out of a corporate office.
“Mac.” Grey met the man and clapped him on the shoulder. “Any problems?”
“Aunt Lila outlined your requests. I’ve taken care of everything.” Mac’s gaze held curiosity and sympathy. He clasped my hand, and I gave his a brief, firm shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Burke. I’m sorry for the circumstances.”
“Thank you,” I said. “You’re very kind.”
“What the hell is this?” Neela punctuated her question by striding into the open cell.
Grey ignored her ire. “Mac is one of my betas. I have three who help with the day-to-day operations of the pack. He’s my go-to for damn near everything.” Grey nodded to the cell. “Thank you for making it comfortable for us.”
“A fucking bed with silk sheets. Food? Wine? A goddamned library!” Neela stomped out of my prison, a buttery soft pillow clutched in her hand. “What the fuck, Grey? This is prison. My goddamned prison. You can’t turn it into a five-star hotel.”
“Yes, I can.” Grey lazily turned toward the irate warden, his manner suggesting that he found her boring.
He even yawned. “I’m the alpha. This is my wife. It’s our honeymoon.”
Neela gritted her teeth together so hard, I could hear her molars grinding together.
“You can arrest Belle for suspicion of an unsanctioned kill,” said Colt, “but that’s all you can do. The alpha has final say in the treatment of a prisoner and the purview to spend his nights with his mate.”
“This is bullshit.” Neela looked at Grey. “You can’t be serious about going to prison with her.”
“What did you think he’d do?” asked Mac, chuckling. He shook his head at Neela’s apparent stupidity. “Did you really believe this farce you’ve created would keep them apart?”
“It’s not a farce.”
“Yes, it is.” Mac stepped into Neela’s space, his face within inches of hers. “One of our community, concerned with your conflict of interest in this matter, asked for an emergency pack vote. The unanimous decision was to appoint a pro tempore leader to handle this situation—and all enforcer matters—until the imputation of Arabelle Burke is concluded. At which time you will be under re-consideration as enforcer leader.”
Neela stilled and the blood drained from her face. The pillow in her hand deflated under the strength of her grip. “I should’ve been informed.”
“That’s what I’m doing,” said Mac pleasantly, his expression bland. “I’m informing you.” He opened his hand. “The prison key, please. You will report to the pro tem and officially relieve yourself of all duties.”
“Who called for the vote?” asked Neela as she slapped the key into Mac’s hand. It seemed not all her fire had been banked.
“Kelt.” Mac tucked the key into his pocket. “It seems your father doesn’t trust you to be objective about Grey’s mate. Wonder why he’d think that?”
Her expression hardened, but not before I saw the hurt betrayal flash across her face. I had no love for Neela, but it must’ve been a terrible thing to know your own father had thrown you under the bus. I knew she would accept no sympathy from me, yet I felt my heart soften a little toward her. She ripped the pillow in half and dropped it at Mac’s feet. Without another word, she turned on her booted heel and strode away.
Mac scooped up the pillow debris. “She took it better than I thought.”
“The imputation against Belle stands?” asked Grey.
“Unfortunately. The circumstantial evidence is thin, but the witness testimony is strong. Together, it’s enough to support the charge.” Mac offered me an empathetic smile. “I’m sorry your first introduction into our pack is a first-hand experience with our justice system.”
“The best way to learn it,” I said.
He laughed. “Yes, I suppose so.” He gestured toward the door. “It’s time. I’m afraid the door will have to remain locked so long as you are considered a prisoner. Grey has his two-way radio to communicate with us.”
“I won’t be here during the day,” said Grey. “But I will be with you every night until this nightmare is over.”
“Oh?” I said with an arched brow. “And when I’m free, where else do you plan to spend your nights?”
For a moment, he looked nonplussed—especially when the other men laughed. Then Grey offered me a wolfish grin. “Let me rephrase. I will be with you every night for the rest of our lives.”
“Clarification is the key to communication,” I said.
“Indeed,” said my husband.
I swear we shared a tender moment—given the softness of Grey’s smile.
“All right then. No use lollygagging about.” I turned to Colt. “Thank you for being my advocate.”
“It’s my honor. Do you need anything?” asked Colt.
I glanced at Grey and saw him watching me with such a hungry, hungry look. I felt a little flutter in my belly. “I have all that I need.”
Grey smiled.
I said good-bye to the men and entered my prison. Grey stayed outside, apparently wanting a private conversation.
Neela hadn’t been kidding about the five-star hotel. Even when I was attending college, I had never been in such a fancy space—and this was a prison.
The bed was large, a king-sized no doubt, and much like the one in our honeymoon den, it was covered with thick blankets and a mountain of pillows. It looked comfortable and ready for an exhausted couple to fall dream-first into it.
But I knew Grey wasn’t interested in sleeping.
Frankly, neither was I.
Eight.
TO THE LEFT of the bed was a small table with two chairs. It looked expensive, like something an interior designer had accidentally left behind. A bowl of fruit, a tray of various nuts, and, sweet mercy, a multi-tiered dessert display with chocolate truffles and mini-cakes made up the gastronomic treasures.
My belly rumbled, and I realized the only meal I’d consumed today was the sandwich, apple, and glass of tea that Aunt Lila had brought to me after Grey had scented me and left.
The clang of the door shutting had me whirling around. The heavy iron key squealed as it locked us into the prison.
“You should eat.” Grey crossed the room. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, Belle, so I had Aunt Lila choose for us.”
“It all looks wonderful. I do have a fondness for sweets.”
“You wouldn’t know it to look at you,” he said. “You appear malnourished. Don’t you eat?”
I knew werewolves preferred more curvy women, and I figured given time and my addiction to cake, I could gain some much needed weight.
“It’s been a nerve-wracking few months,” I admitted. “It affected my appetite.”
“You’ll need to be healthy to carry a werewolf baby.” He examined my midsection. “Alphas tend to breed quickly.”
I knew that. In fact, I’d been trying not to think about it too hard. Marriage, mating, and murder had taken up most of my mental anxieties.
“You’ll find some appropriate clothes in that dresser. Get comfortable, and I’ll make you a plate.”
“Appropriate clothes” appeared to mean “assorted lingerie.” I found a pink-lace teddy and matching underwear. I held them up, considering.
“Don’t bother putting on those,” said Grey. “You won’t need them.”
Oh, mercy.
I slipped off my clothes and put on the teddy. The lacy cloth hit mid-thigh, but the draft between my legs was somewhat disconcerting. “It’s not really dining attire,” I said.
“It is for where we’ll be dining.” He gestured to the bed.
“What about crumbs?” I asked indignantly.
Grey laughed. “We’ll manage. Life is messy, sweetheart. So is sex. And dirty, sweaty sex is the best kind, I promise you.”
Whew. I crawled onto the massive bed and watched Grey finish piling treats on a plate. Not a single piece of fruit made it onto the dish. Satisfied with his selections, he quickly divested himself of his own clothing. He grabbed the plate and held it with one hand as he maneuvered himself onto the bed with me.
“Relax, Arabelle.” He nodded toward the pillows, and I sank into them, trying to get my limbs to loosen up. I felt as stiff as a board and as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.
“Let me feed you.” He offered a tiny cake, and I opened my mouth to accept. The sweet vanilla concoction melted on my tongue.
“Oh! That’s so good!”
Grey smiled. “Have another.” The next was silky raspberry and the one after, a delicious cinnamon.
“Your turn.” Boldly, I plucked a truffle hiding among the other desserts and pressed it against his lips. “Do you like chocolates?”
He nodded. I pushed the treat inside his mouth. The chocolate was gone in an instant and then he sucked my finger, his tongue swirling around the tip.
Lightning flashed in my belly—hot, jagged, and breath-stealing. I stared at him wide-eyed, and he smiled lazily. “Another one, please.”
He released my finger. I chose another truffle, this one an orb of white, and lifted it to his mouth. “Let me t
ake it from your lips.”
I did as he asked.
He leaned forward and delicately bit the truffle, his lips ghosting across mine. The light touch, the slightly forbidden way of taking both the dessert and my mouth at the same time had me tingling from head to toe. I took the rest of the chocolate into my mouth and savored it. I thought about savoring him in the same way.
“Best chocolate ever,” he said, “especially when it tastes like you.”
“I have a taste?”
“Oh, yes. You, my sweet Arabelle, are the most delicious treat I’ve ever licked.”
Mercy. I thought about his scenting, about how he’d brought me to intense pleasure with that glorious mouth of his. His gentleness now caused the same kind of quivering as his fierce seduction then.
He put the dish on the precarious stack of pillows above us and then focused on me. His fingertips drifted across my arm, down my side, to my hip. He slipped his strong hand under my buttock, cupping it and kneading it.
I swallowed heavily.
“Touch me,” he commanded softly.
“Where?”
“Wherever you want.”
I splayed my fingers against his broad, muscled chest. I felt a hot spark in my belly as I explored his firm flesh. “That feels good, Arabelle.”
His encouragement made me bolder still, and I explored the ridges of his stomach and the lean junctures of his hips. His manhood was already thick and hard, the mushroomed tip protruding from its sheath. I drew one fingertip around the veiny flesh, marveling at its strange elegance. It was almost as though I was examining artwork I didn’t understand, but that enthralled me all the same.
Grey growled, a sound that sent electricity rocketing into my core.
I do believe I liked when his wolf noticed me—and let me know.
“Show me your body.”
I obliged by taking off the lace teddy. Grey rolled me onto me back and covered me, his shaft nestling against my sex.
He kissed my shoulder. The oh-so-tender press of his lips against my flesh made me shudder…and teased out a breathy moan.
The Werewolf’s Bride: The Pack Rules #1 Page 6