by Jane Ederlyn
She didn’t feel any more for Odin, than she would for any virile werewolf. He was clean, tall, and his body was supremely chiseled as a man and beautiful as a wolf. But the true attraction was that he was Stormda’s son, the pack’s heir, and the power she would wield after marrying him excited her. She was born to rule a pack and her time had finally come, and no one was going to stand in her way.
Odin hit the empty space between them on the mattress and Deena flinched.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“You weren’t downstairs to welcome me.” She reached out and splayed her hand on the center of his chest, as if stamping him. Then her hand descended.
He grabbed her wrist and bolted into a sitting position.
She pursed her lips in a glossy pout. “Odin, I like it.” Her eyes lowered as she scanned his abs and lower, stalling at the junction where a trail of hair disappeared beneath the sheet.
“I didn’t know you were expected?”
“That’s odd. Your father told me he called you personally.” She reached for him again, and he shot out of bed, the sheets falling to the floor in a tangle.
“What’s wrong?” She blinked, wide-eyed.
“I need to take a shower. Why don’t you go make me something to eat?”
“Me? Don’t you have little wolves to do that for you?”
“Sorry. I thought you were playing house?”
“I don’t do house.”
“So, what is this all about then, Deena?”
She fingered the sheets on the bed. “Why are you so testy? I just stopped by to visit my fiancé.” She stood and walked around the bed, languid but calculated, and stopped a foot away. Too close for his comfort.
“Can’t a girl visit her future husband?” She stared at his penis and the look she gave him spiked his annoyance.
Admittedly, she was beautiful with long, thick ebony hair and forest-green eyes. She was tall, just shy of six feet, slim and long legged. Her breasts were high and pale, flirting with him beyond the low neckline of her blouse, but although her eyes were lit with sexual promise, they were empty of all warmth.
He couldn’t help compare Deena with Marie. Where Deena’s face was square with prominent features, Marie’s face was soft—and their smells were indelibly different. Marie smelled like a field of flowers blooming under moonlight while Deena smelled like a wolf, musky and earthy. Both had accents that became thicker when their words became heated. Marie should be the colder of the two, yet she was the one that burned for him. In everything, even in language, he preferred his vampire.
Odin shrugged. “Do what you want, Deena?” He didn’t give her time to respond before stepping into the bathroom and shutting the door with a loud thud.
He stepped into the glass-tiled shower and turned on the water. Unlike the warm hues of his bedroom, the bathroom was painted in a cool blue that matched the opalescent glass tiles in the shower. Overall, the bathroom had the refreshing vibe of an ancient glacier. The showerhead blasted cool water and it streamed down his bent head, neck, and back. He had slept maybe ten minutes max before Deena’s interruption, and he hoped if he stayed in the shower long enough, she’d get the message. The click of the door told him otherwise.
He had built his shower wide and open, comfortable for his size, but he hadn’t considered an indulgent Slovak female when he opted to forgo the barrier of a door or curtain.
“I thought we would could get to know each other a little more.” She closed the bathroom door behind her.
He sighed. “Do you mind?”
“Don’t you want company?”
He counted to five, turned the shower off, and straightened. “No. I have plans.”
Her eyes narrowed into slits. “Yes, of course. Your father has plans for us tonight.” She worked the front buttons of her tiered camisole. “We’re to spend time getting to know each other. I don’t think he had this in mind exactly, but I don’t think he’ll mind.” She shrugged out of her top. “The sooner we consummate the arrangement, the better.”
“Stop,” he muttered in a low, feral growl.
She lowered the zipper of her jeans and stepped out of them, naked underneath, then sputtered in her native tongue.
He shook his head, spraying her with water.
She jumped back, her eyes darkening before flashing back to normal.
“Can you hand me a towel?” he asked.
“Did you not understand me? I asked you to touch me. I want you.”
“What do you want?” he said, purposely obtuse.
She walked into his body, pressing her hair and breasts against him. “I want this.” A drop of water dripped off his chin and onto his chest. Her tongue flicked out to capture it.
He grabbed her by the arms and pushed her back, more roughly than he intended, but he’d had enough. “I said no.”
“I will not be ignored. Who are you fucking that you don’t want me?” Deena’s voice escalated. “Which one of these bitches is your lover?” Her face bloomed into a scarlet flush, all pretense of affection and humility evaporated.
He loved Marie. The first time he saw her, with her smooth perfect hair and ruffled skirt, checking her instincts against the rogue, he was enamored. And when she floored him and challenged, it was a punch to his gut. He knew then she belonged to him, and it had just been a matter of making her realize it too. Even if his vampire wasn’t in the equation, he refused to spend eternity shackled to Deena.
“Which one keeps you from me?” She stomped her foot. “Answer me! I will not put up with this.”
He roared and the sound echoed in the small space.
She covered her ears.
He pulled her arms down and roared again. “There’s only one alpha male and it’s me. Do you understand? Not you. Me. And if I wanted you to make me a sandwich, you would have to, wouldn’t you, Deena? Whatever I wanted, you would have to do whether or not you fucking liked it. Is that right?” Anger seethed inside him, as much for her as for his father.
“Which whore is taking what’s mine?” she spit out in a snarl.
He fisted and unfisted his hands. He didn’t miss her substitution of bitch for whore. If she suspected he was sleeping with a wolf, she would have continued crying bitch. Saying whore was loud and clear, and he realized he didn’t like Deena entertaining thoughts of Marie. His vampire was the best thing that had ever happened to him and he didn’t care what anyone thought. “I’ve told you I won’t marry you. I’m not yours. Nor will I ever be.” Tired of her theatrics, he pulled on his jeans and brushed past.
“Come back here, you impotent bastard.” She kicked the bedpost.
Odin met Egon halfway down the stairs. “Come eat something with me.”
“I was on the way to look for you. The Slovakians are here.”
“I know.”
Deena slammed the door and marched past them, arms and hair swinging.
“I won’t ask,” Egon said.
“Don’t.”
“You have dark circles under your eyes.” Egon lowered his voice. “Blood loss?”
Odin pushed his still wet hair away from his face and grinned. “No. I’m good.”
“Are you meeting her again tonight?”
Voices rose and fell behind the imposing double doors of the great hall and Odin recognized Deena’s high octave wail. “I can’t stay away from Marie.”
“Do you need company?”
Odin gave him a sharp look.
“You said there was a human. I thought I could keep her company while you two have alone time.”
“I don’t know. Renfield is very protective and hasn’t been receptive to me.”
“Renfield?”
“Long story.”
Odin’s brow f
urrowed. As they made their way downstairs, the thought of taking Egon along grew on him with every step. As much as he teased Abby, he knew she was lonely, as was Egon. Maybe it might do them both good. “I warn you. She is stubborn and has trust issues, but I could use the help. And an alibi.”
“Thanks. I would rather not be here.”
Odin understood. He didn’t want to be here either. How could he expect Egon to feel differently?
They strode into the kitchen. The mingled aromas of steaming vegetables and baking bread assaulted their senses and his stomach growled in response.
“Shoo, you beast. Get out of my kitchen.” From the sink, Mattildr waved a peeler in the air before returning to her potatoes. As usual, her braided hair was piled high in a flaxen blonde cloud, and she was dressed in a traditional blue apron with embroidered white flowers, over modern jeans. Her cheeks were flushed and her small, round eyes glittered like blue topazes. Older than even Stormda, she was the matriarchal figurehead of their family.
Odin came up behind her and nuzzled her neck.
She clicked her tongue and pushed him away.
“I’m starving.”
“Very well, then. Have a seat.” She wiped her hands on her linen apron and uncovered an undisturbed pot by the stove. After a quick stir, she ladled a scoop of beef and blood and dropped it into a hot cast-iron skillet. The beef chunks sizzled like music to the Gods.
“I love you, Mattie,” Odin said.
“I love you nothing. I don’t know why I spoil you when you don’t have the sense to respect your elders. Look at you, coming into my kitchen naked as a pup, as if you don’t have any sense about you.”
“I’m wearing pants. You’ve seen me in less,” he said, tongue in cheek, and howled for her benefit.
Egon laughed but kept his head down to stay off her radar. When she was on a tirade, walls shook.
The smell of searing meat wafted up and filled the kitchen. She turned the beef over once then carried the pan to the table and slid half onto Odin’s plate and the other onto Egon’s.
Odin inhaled and attacked the food, barely registering that Mattildr returned to deposit pork-filled pastries and creamed corn on their plates. Mouths full, they mumbled, “Thank you.”
She filled their glasses with mead, kissed the top of Odin’s head, and returned to her potatoes.
Stormda burst into the kitchen and the door flapped open and closed behind him.
“I see that Sleeping Beauty finally graces us with his presence. I’ve been looking for you,” he bellowed.
Odin didn’t look up from his plate. “Hello, Father.”
“Get dressed and meet me in the great room.”
“I’m . . .” he started, but Stormda was gone before he could finish. He exchanged a look with Egon.
“Do what you’re told, Odin. Please, for all our sakes. He’s been in a rare mood these days,” Mattildr said, her voice somber.
Odin sighed and nodded. He would do anything for Mattildr. He set his fork down and pushed away from the table with a screech of chair legs.
“Best you leave him now, Egon. I will put this away for later.” She took Odin’s half-eaten food, covered it with another plate, and transferred it to the refrigerator.
“Thank you,” Egon said, for more than just food.
“Don’t encourage him to disobey. He has duties and must do what he’s told. He is like his mother. God rest her soul.”
“I’m still here,” Odin growled, but his lips twitched. He couldn’t be angry or annoyed with Mattildr. That emotion he was saving for his father.
A timer dinged and her attention reverted to the oven.
With her back turned, Egon swiped another pastry and escaped outside.
Odin wished he could escape too.
After initial greetings, minor business was conducted with the Slovakian party. Eventually the guests were escorted to their bedchambers and Stormda retired to his study.
Odin followed him, closed the door, and dove into the ongoing argument repeated more times than he cared to count.
“I will not marry, Deena.”
The room was dark, one wall lined with shelves stuffed with books that Stormda would never read and another wall lined with glass-encased items that he wanted preserved: his favorite broadsword, helmet, and drinking horn. In this room Odin always felt like a boy, felt the pull of history on the walls—their pack history—and the familiar tug of pride.
Stormda immediately became absorbed in accounting ledgers, ignoring Odin.
“I will not marry, Deena,” he repeated. Things had gone too far and his father needed to understand.
Stormda looked up, eyes arctic and brows high, a look that as a boy scared Odin into his mother’s skirts. He was no longer that boy.
“It isn’t a choice, Odin. You are my eldest. It is your responsibility. You promised after Astryd you would take your place in this pack. I have given you centuries, but the time has come for you to cease ignoring your family.”
“This has nothing to do with my family. We aren’t a poor nomadic pack. This isn’t Norway or the Orkneys when joining other packs helped feed our people and keep them safe. We live in different times. We don’t need the Slovakians.”
“We do. They are important in the European Werewolf Union.” He pushed away from the table and stood. “What has gotten into you? Do I need to lock you up? Has the moon unbalanced you? Perhaps there’s a parasite in your blood? I’m your father and leader. I’ve made a decision and expect it to be followed.” He wandered to a hanging shadow box protecting a honey-colored sheet with decayed edges. “I have given my word and they’re already here. There will be grave consequences if we don’t go through with this contract.” He returned to his desk and resumed his interest in ledgers. Discussion over.
“I told you how I felt. I don’t love her. I don’t even like her.”
“That is a triviality. I’m sure in time you will grow to care for her. Such things happen many a time.”
“Did it happen to you with Mother?”
“We’re not discussing me.”
“What if she can’t give you the heir that you so desperately want? What then? Will you have me kill her so I can pursue another vessel?”
Stormda slammed the paper on the desk and met Odin’s eyes. “You make light of the plight of our race. I am hopeful that Deena will bear me a grandchild at last.”
“And if she doesn’t?” Odin persisted.
“If she doesn’t, then we will have gained good standing in the union.”
Odin swallowed his revulsion.
“We must show good faith, son. Besides, she is a beautiful wolf.”
“I am in love with someone else.”
Stormda shrugged. “Marry Deena and produce a legitimate heir. After that, I don’t care what you do.”
Odin growled. “This is not about the pack. This is about your greed for more at the expense of your children.”
“Do not embarrass me and bring shame to your family. I’ve had patience with you and this you owe me. I have spoken. Now get out.”
“Call it off. I’m not going through with it.”
“But you will. Your Alpha has given you a direct order.”
His father hadn’t brought up Marie’s visit. If he wanted to pretend he hadn’t spoken to her, Odin would let him. But he wasn’t going to tie himself to Deena, and if pushed, he was prepared to break pack bonds.
By the cold outrage tightening his father’s features and the pressure hammering his skull, Odin knew he had finally made his intentions clear. Stormda understood and wasn’t happy.
Chapter XXI
“I’m happy to finally meet you,” Egon said.
Marie acknowledged him with a hint of a smile but ignored his ou
tstretched hand.
“Hello, beautiful.” Odin stepped between them and bent to kiss her soundly on the lips.
Egon dropped his hand, feeling foolish for his lapse of common sense. A vampire’s body temperature was lower, so they didn’t shake hands. Being perceived as a germaphobe or arrogant was more easily overlooked than a jarring first contact. But beyond a fragile paleness, she looked so normal it hadn’t occurred to him.
Odin motioned for him to follow. He started toward them when a movement at the top of the stairs drew his attention. His breath caught in his throat. Arresting blue eyes. And a lavender scent that was similar to Marie, yet uniquely different. He followed her passage down the stairs. When he could breathe again, he inhaled slowly and deeply.
She smiled at him and extended her hand. Egon took it hesitantly and felt a jolt of attraction.
“I didn’t know we were expecting company?” she said.
“I’m here with Odin.”
Her smile disappeared, and he felt bereft without it.
“Werewolf?”
He nodded. “They went that way.” He pointed and inwardly squirmed. Was that his voice? When had he regressed into pre-pubescent geek?
They left the austere foyer, with its bone-colored marble and checkerboard inlay. They passed a closed door directly beneath the staircase and into a hall that opened to several rooms and ended in a brightly lit kitchen.
Odin’s arms were wrapped around Marie and his chin rested on top of her head. “Bee, light of my life, where have you been?”
“Oh go suck kibble.”