by Amanda Jones
She tried to calm her breathing. “What’s wrong with you,” she thought. “There’s nothing to worry about. He’s just a guy exploring the grounds. They do that sometimes.” Except, they didn’t fix her with a penetrating gaze and gave her the impression that she was naked and vulnerable. He kept approaching, and she was soon able to study his posture, the confidence with which he walked, and then the sun reflected in his dark eyes and she saw the spark of green. “A wolf.” She exhaled softly, and her heart beats slowed down to a normal rate. She stood her ground, although she had no idea why she had been ready to bolt as if that could have helped in any way. She even managed to greet him with a smile.
The mysterious man smiled back. “I’m sorry I startled you.”
“Startled me?” Avelyn’s eyebrows rose in fake surprise. “Oh no, sir, you’re mistaken. I thought I heard a squirrel shuffling through the bushes and I wanted to catch a glimpse of it.”
He raised an accusatory finger at her, his other hand in his back pocket. “See now, you’re lying.”
Avelyn’s smile was frozen on her lips because the werewolf was now casually leaning towards her and she could smell his cologne, an arousing mix of musk and sandalwood with a fresh top note that she couldn’t quite identify. Mandarin? Grapefruit? She struggled to keep her mind clear.
“I think I interrupted your exploration of Alma Venus, and for that I apologize.”
With a small, respectful bow of her head, Avelyn turned and resumed her walk towards the lounge chair that was waiting for her under an old lime tree. She left him there, standing awkwardly, unable to come up with anything clever to regain her attention. She loved the feeling of power this little game gave her. She made a show of ignoring his presence as she placed her flip-flops at the foot of her chair and then lay down, book in hand and box of sweets carefully balanced on one of her knees.
“You haven’t told me your name,” he raised his voice a notch to cover the distance between them.
“Don’t bother with my name, sir. I’m not the one you’re looking for.”
The harsh comment threw him off guard, and at that moment he had no idea what she meant by it.
“Well then, I guess I’ll have to browse the catalog for your beautiful eyes and unruly hair.”
“You won’t find me.”
Avelyn gave him a mischievous smile and returned to her book. She could feel his eyes on her, studying her profile, traveling down the length of her body. She couldn’t know what he was looking at, but that didn’t stop her from imagining that his gaze was first fixed on her lips (she bit them lightly), and then moved on to her neck, shoulders, and her hard nipples which were poking the thin dress covering them. She felt a strange tingling in her toes, and the sudden urge to raise her eyes back to his handsome face took her by surprise. Some moments before she had felt like a deer caught in the headlights, and she wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was that feeling that he had invaded her personal space by observing her while she was enjoying a moment of solitude. She cursed herself for not paying attention to her surroundings.
Despite her desire to look at him again, she held her impulse under control and turned a page in her book. After he had left, she would have to turn the page back and actually read it, but right now she had no intention of letting him know that she might be interested. Of all the shifters she could ever feel attracted to, it had to be a wolf. These wild, powerful creatures were the faction that had the strongest desire to conquer and control. Avelyn would have never accepted to let herself dominated by such a brute, no matter how charming and harmless he seemed at first glance. She knew that behind that display of grace and good manners, there was a well-hidden craving to break and control the weak and the helpless. The moment she had first seen him staring at her from across the yard, Avelyn had remembered Miss Potts’ words and she had been frightened that, indeed, these three months might still be enough to take her freedom away. Then, she saw his eyes and realized he was a werewolf. The chances that he would require her for an interview were close to none. For a second, that made her sad. Yes, she would do her best to blow the interview, but at least she would get to see him again from up close without betraying her unorthodox thoughts. “Damn me for having a soft spot for hot dark-haired men with sexy beards.”
“I guess we’ll live and see,” said the mysterious man.
Avelyn almost laughed at the controlling manner in which he spoke the words. Yes, the attitude certainly matched his looks.
“Sure,” she whispered to herself. “Live and see.”
When she was sure he had turned around to leave, Avelyn dared to raise her nose from the pages of her book and feast her eyes on the guy’s back and nicely-shaped ass. She bit the inside of her lips and sighed. “Too bad he is what he is.” When he disappeared from her view, she turned the pages back in “The Shadow of the Wind” and resumed reading.
CHAPTER TWO
The Interview
Max Blackmane had business to attend to in the UK and he had to be in London first thing in the morning. As he was browsing through the catalogs scattered on the desk before him, he thought of how fast and unexpectedly he had made the decision to take a bride. The idea had taken form in his mind two days before, when he realized that all the Alphas of the allied clans had wives, and during each meeting or cocktail, the women would gather in a separate room or in a corner and chat away, oftentimes not even paying attention to the information they disclosed about the packs they belonged to and their husbands’ affairs. With all the changes and diplomatic actions after the war, not having a wife had become a weak spot for Max. Of course, during the war things were the exact opposite. Compared to the fox-shifters and eagle-shifters, the wolves were very protective when it came to their families, and that weakness was what caused humans to not win the war, because that was impossible, but to get the werewolves’ attention long enough to propose the peace and sign the treaty. Now that the war was over and the factions seemed to have given up on their idea to strike again, Max had to adapt to the new order. And that involved taking a mate who would run his house, accompany him on diplomatic missions, and later offer him little, adorable pups. But was it all about adaptation? Maybe he was also tired of waking up in a cold, empty bed because the random she-wolf he had shared it with the night before knew her Alpha preferred to be left alone after his hunger for a female body had been quenched. “That’s ridiculous,” he thought, and turned another page in the House Lupi catalog.
Each student deemed an adequate future bride for a werewolf had her own page in the thick catalog. Because the wolf clans and packs were the most numerous ones, House Lupi had the highest number of girls. It was followed by House Ursi, which contained future bear wives, then House Vulpes, House Aquilae, and, finally, House Dracones. The last one had the fewest students; 14 in total. The dragon-shifters were the oldest race, and there were few clans scattered around the world. They were rare, noble, and respected by everyone. In the history of Alma Venus, it only happened twice that a dragon came and chose a wife for his Alpha. The girls had no idea how their husbands looked like, but they didn’t care. It was an honor to become a dragon bride, and those who weren’t chosen by dragons were bought by other shifters at incredibly high prices. Max chose only three girls from the Lupi catalog, among whom was Delyse.
Delyse… Tall, slender, straight blond hair that touched her waist, pale complexion, and a fragile smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She didn’t exactly look like a young woman prepared to become the bride of a powerful, hot-tempered wolf. Max could swear that even the gentlest hug would break a few bones in her body. Nonetheless, she was at the top of his list. Right under her name, it was mentioned in bold letters that she was a Donation. He had met her father, Councilor Arthur Harington, on several occasions, and an alliance with him would have done his clan a lot of good. The other two girls he selected were not important. He simply didn’t want to offend the headmistress by dismissing her Lupi girls so fast. For all intents and purposes, Ma
x had got what he needed and could have walked out of the office that instant and asked Miss Delacroix to bring him Delyse. It didn’t even matter what the girl would have said or done at the interview, because it was all business. Then, he would have asked for the other two girls as well, kept them no more than 10 minutes each, and announced that he would be buying the fair Delyse. However, there was still something he had to do. He put the Lupi catalog aside, and grabbed the Ursi one.
A fraction of a second was sufficient to quickly scan a page and turn it in search of deep blue eyes, a cute little nose covered in tiny freckles, and a heart-shaped face carefully framed by wild red hair. He didn’t have a name, but the pictures were enough to help him identify the beautiful woman he had met just a few hours before, while he was exploring the grounds of Alma Venus and admiring the medieval architecture. When he reached the last page of the catalog, it was quite clear that she wasn’t supposed to be the bride of a rough, uneducated bear. He reached for the House Aquilae catalog and browsed it just as fast as the previous one. “Hmm… not here either. Could she be a dragon bride?” He found himself aroused at the thought. He brought back the memory of her wicked smile that made those plump, delicious lips even more appealing. The creamy skin of her neck, and the fullness of her breasts, barely covered by the green, summery dress. The entire package suddenly became more desirable in the perspective that she had been prepared to become the docile, intelligent, and ever so patient wife of a noble dragon. The realization that such a perfect example of beauty and class could be his made him hard and ready to pay a fortune to be able to bury his head between her thighs and taste the sweetness of her flesh.
The moment he turned the last page of the House Dracones catalog was also the moment he was brutally brought back to reality. She wasn’t in this one either. He rose from his chair and started pacing the room. How could it be? He had no doubt that she was a student at Alma Venus, so why wasn’t she featured in any of their catalogs? Then, a second realization struck him. He stopped in the middle of the office, hung his head for a few moments, and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. “Now what?” He thought that maybe he should study the catalogs again, more carefully this time. Maybe she was there, but in his rush and excitement he had missed her. It wasn’t possible, though, and he knew it. His keen eyesight never betrayed him no matter how fast he performed some tasks. He approached the tall windows and leaned against the frame, his hands in his pockets. It was well after noon and the sun was shining mercilessly, heating the rock pavements of Alma Venus. The office was on the ground floor, and he felt sorry that he couldn’t admire the landscape that lay beyond the iron gates from somewhere above. It was a shame the office wasn’t placed on the top floor, because then he would have seen the sharp peaks of the everlasting green firs that stretched far to the north, guarding the narrow road which connected the school to the small town of Myrtle Valley. The forest here was not very large, nor dense, but it was enough to remind him of home. Nevertheless, to get back home he would have to solve this whole bride matter, then take care of his business in London and hope that his brother didn’t intend to keep him longer than needed.
Max hesitated a moment longer only to decide there was no other way. He moved away from the window and headed to the door with long, confident steps, opened it, and asked the secretary to tell Miss Delacroix he needed her right away. He barely had time to sit back down behind the desk when a knock on the tall, wooden door announced that Miss Delacroix would sneak into the office as silently as possible, head first, as it was her habit.
“Yes, Mr. Blackmane. Have you sent for me?”
“Yes. I have studied all the catalogs you brought me, but before making a decision, I would also like to consult the last one.”
“The last one?” To say that Max’s request threw Miss Delacroix off guard would be an understatement. For a few seconds she was unable to come up with a decent response. Should she say the word? She couldn’t possibly say the word… “The… the catalog…”
“Yes, Miss Delacroix, the House Vulpes catalog.”
“Oh!” At least she didn’t have to say it now. When it came to wolves and foxes, one had to tread lightly. “Of course, right away. If I knew, I would have brought it to you earlier, but I hope you do understand…”
As Max didn’t seem willing to discuss the matter, the headmistress went to the waiting room and came back with the generous catalog. The fox-shifters were almost as numerous as the wolf-shifters, and they had the tendency to buy human mates regardless of their rank. While the other shifter factions almost made a tradition of getting human females for their Alphas and Betas alone, the foxes couldn’t care less about such a thing. Anyone who could afford a human wife was free to get her, and it wasn’t uncommon for a fox-shifter to have two wives: a pure-blood vixen, and a human mate who would offer him pups. The shifter females were rarely able to have children, so while the wolves, the bears, and the dragons kept their tradition that saw fertile human females as a privilege for their dominant males alone, the foxes preferred to increase their numbers. The eagles did the same thing, but they were rarely organized into clans, and almost never recognized the dominance of an Alpha.
Miss Delacroix left Max alone, and only after she closed the door behind her he took a deep breath and opened the catalog. There she was, red curls, joyful eyes, and playful smile.
“Avelyn.”
The brief biography barely mentioned her humble origins, but Max couldn’t care less. He was fascinated by the way she kept her head high when the picture was taken. Of course, pride and wickedness were two traits that easily described the foxes, so it was only natural for the girls who were prepared to become vixens to display the same temperament and behavior. Max sighed and massaged his temples, but the truth was that he couldn’t take his eyes off Avelyn’s pretty face. Would his pack ever forgive him for bringing a vixen into their lair? He came to Alma Venus for a bride that would not only secure his status as a powerful, resourceful Alpha and offer him worthy heirs, but also for a woman whom he could strategically take to diplomatic meetings and who could strengthen the alliance with the humans through her presence alone. Avelyn was none of that. On the other hand, she was everything Max desired. All he could think of was how he would take her to the Schloss, how he would show her the immense rooms, walk with her in the gardens, feed her the most delicious morsels from a royal dinner in the evening, then bathe her in the crystal bathtub that occupied half of their bathroom, and marvel at the way her full curves would show through the transparency of the water and the crystal. His jeans became uncomfortably tight.
“Well… vixen, no vixen, I guess a simple interview won’t exactly ruin my reputation,” and he scribbled her name on the form Miss Delacroix had given him to fill out.
***
Two hours before, Avelyn had been enjoying a peaceful afternoon munching on Miss Potts’ delicious cupcakes while being completely engrossed in her book. She had been about to find out how the tragic relationship between Julian and Penelope actually ended when Delyse had knelt next to her lounge chair. Avelyn had lifted her eyes from “The Shadow of the Wind” only to see distress swimming in Delyse’s beautiful, watery eyes. And that’s how a short conversation with her roommate had killed Avelyn’s appetite for cupcakes and good literature. Unable to focus anymore, she had gone up to their room to wait for Delyse and the final verdict. Now she was slowly pacing back and forth, stopping in front of the window from time to time, her gaze lost somewhere beyond the garden and the iron fence of the school. She kept playing the conversation with Delyse in her mind.
“I’m having an interview in an hour and I have to go change, but I just wanted to see you for a minute,” had started Delyse without any other introduction. “Oh, Avelyn, I’m so nervous and scared.”
“Why? It’s not like it’s your first interview. You know how these things work. You’ll go there, assess the guy, do your best if you like him, or your worst if he’s not your type.” Avelyn ha
d laughed lightly, hoping it would reassure Delyse. She was the one who had taught her how to sabotage an interview if she didn’t quite see herself as the bride of the interviewer.
“It’s not that simple. He’s not just any wolf-shifter. He’s Max Blackmane!” The girl had shuddered and her eyes had grown a bit wider with panic, telling Avelyn that things were different this time.
“Who the hell is that?”
“Oh, right. You Vulpes girls don’t really have to study the wolves a lot. Well, he’s the Alpha of the most powerful and influential clan in Europe. He’s got three packs and dozens of werewolves in his subordination. Since the war, people have been talking about his cruelty and ruthlessness. There’s even a story about this huge castle he owns in the Black Forest Mountains, and they say that the dungeons beneath the castle, which are carved deep into the mountain, still vibrate with the echoes of his enemies’ cries. And if you go down there, you must watch your step because the floor is still slippery with the tears and blood of his prisoners. You don’t want to break your neck or something, because the tunnels form such a complicated maze that your body might never be found.”