Tales of the Winter Wolf, Vol. 3

by R. J. Blain

  She brushed her lips across my forehead and down to my ear. “I can’t lie to my father, not even on the phone,” she whispered, so soft I could barely hear her.

  I think she meant to reassure me, but I knew my parents. I knew what Desmond faced.

  The two old wolves, well used to hiding from the Inquisition, would toy with my mate’s father and mother. They would toy with my pack and torment them as they worked to cut away the bonds tying me to them.

  My mother, cunning and wise, partnered too well with my father, who enjoyed shedding blood. Another shiver ran through me.

  I had witnessed their hunts. They would seek the weakest link first, the one tying me to my brother. They’d play with it, as a cat does a mouse, before they sank their fangs in and shredded it. If they realized it was my bond with my brother, they’d take their time with it, hoping to inflict as much harm on him as possible. With the loss of my brother’s presence, I’d grow weaker. I’d become easier prey.

  They had hunted Alphas before, seeking new members for their pack so they could build the ideal world for themselves. When my parents grew bored with their conquests, they threw away the chaff, moving on to find another to bring into their fold.

  They were rogues who flitted in and out of existence, showing up once a year to claim my brother for a week. Alex had been right in that; they had been trying to lure me out, but the Inquisition always thwarted them.

  I never went with my brother to the airport. I remained in my woods, waiting for his return, running wild and free until I felt him draw close to me once more. And my parents, because they were as wise as they were old and cunning, had bided their time.

  How could I protect my mate against them?

  Nicolina nipped my ear, drawing my attention back to her. “Richard, your phone’s ringing.”

  I hadn’t even noticed. I blinked.

  “Answer it, Richard,” my mother demanded. “Little bitch, hold the phone for him. He shouldn’t move, not yet. Throw them off the trail, Richard, or your little lady ends up with a bullet in her skull.”

  I grasped Nicolina’s arm, baring my teeth in a silent snarl at the threat to my mate.

  “It’s Dad,” Nicolina whispered in my ear once more. “He texted right before the first ring. Frank and Sanders are with him.”

  Swiping her finger against the screen, Nicolina accepted the call and held it to my ear. “Murphy,” I answered. My voice was husky, both from pain and the tingling sweetness of my mate’s touch.

  She pressed her lips to my temple, her ear pressed to my cell so she could hear the conversation. I admired her clever ruse.

  All Fenerec were driven by the need for their mate’s touch. In my parents' world, it was natural for Nicolina to stay near me, especially if they believed I was stalking her for the winter rut.

  I was, but they wouldn’t understand the concept of savoring the hunt. All they responded to was immediate need and desire. Nicolina close to me was enough to satiate my thirst.

  I would be patient, as good wolves were.

  After a long pause, my mate’s father stated, “Desmond.” The volume on his end was low, low enough I struggled to hear him even with my wolf’s help. “Are they after you or Nicolina?”

  “Hey, it’s me,” I replied, and the thrill of my defiance surged through me. “What do you need?”

  “Does this have anything to do with your mother and father showing up at my place?”

  How could I answer my mate’s father without betraying his end of the conversation? I had to play my parents' game; their rules stated an animal had run out in front of my Porsche.

  All I could do was try to use their rules against them and hope Desmond was as clever of a wolf as he thought he was. “Yeah, it was just someone’s dog. Slipped their collar, I guess.”

  The only collar I wanted either one of my parents wearing was a noose, hung from the tallest tree I could find.

  “Are you two with your Porsche?”

  “No, everything’s fine. Just a blown tire. Damaged one of the mags. Skidded off the road a bit, but otherwise no issue.”

  “Can you get away on your own?”

  I resisted the urge to snort, barely. With a broken neck, I wasn’t going anywhere. Even if my mother and father conspired to force the change on me, it’d take days before I was fully functional. “No, no. It’s really fine. I won’t be able to bring your daughter home for at least a couple of days, though. Replacing the mags on a custom Porsche is a real bitch. I’m getting a tow to the dealership to see what they can do. If they don’t have the mags or if I damaged something in the undercarriage, I’ll probably have to get a rental. It can take those slack-ass jerks three months for some of those parts. Should have just run over the fucking dog. Would have done less damage that way.”

  “Fuck,” Frank hissed in the background. “Are you seriously trying to tell us you totaled your Porsche?”

  “That’ll teach me to drive at break neck speed up in the twisty turvy mountain roads showing off. Anyway, it’s no big deal. Nicolina’s fine, not even a scratch on her.”

  My father cleared his throat in warning.

  I sighed, as gustily as I could, hoping my frustration somehow communicated itself to them. “I’ve got to go. I think the tow’s coming.”

  Nicolina sat up, disconnecting the call. She tapped at the screen a few times before turning the volume down on the side of the phone. As she lowered my cell to my chest, I caught a glimpse of the display. She had turned the notification volume for text messages to silent.

  “Good puppy,” my mother said, her tone pleased. “Just keep cooperating as you are, and the both of you will be fine. I like good behavior. All you need to do is stay calm and quiet. Keep my puppy content, little bitch, and you’ll be rewarded well for your efforts.”

  If only looks could kill, then we’d be rid of my parents permanently. The fires of hell lit my mate’s eyes. I don’t know what my Nicolina was scheming, but her faint smile promised death and bloodshed, and for once, it wasn’t targeted at me.

  I was both jealous and delighted.

  She resumed stroking my neck. My thoughts scattered, leaving me limp and shivering under the influence of her caress.

  I drifted, not quite conscious, but aware of my mate stroking my throat. While I hadn’t fathomed what she was doing or why, I couldn’t resist her touch.

  She fed me her calm, soothed the burn of my need for her with the brush of her fingertips, and contented my wolf. When I breathed in her scent, I sank deeper. The crispness of her, the lilac and cinnamon that so enticed me surrounded me and cocooned me from everything except what she was doing.

  I didn’t care, so long as she didn’t stop.

  “Uh, excuse me?” my mate asked, her voice quiet.

  “Yes, sweetheart?” my father replied, turning to face us.

  “Can I play a game on Richard’s phone?”

  The way she widened her eyes and parted her lips portrayed innocence, but I knew better. There wasn’t an innocent bone in my Nicolina’s body. She was all cunning, calculating how to hunt for all she was a Normal. While I had a few games installed on the phone, they never held my attention long.

  I preferred live prey, like her.

  “The phone plays games?” my father asked, incredulous.

  I could smell Nicolina’s astonishment. “Well, yeah.”

  “Richard, what is she talking about?” my mother demanded.

  While Nicolina had accused me of coming from the Stone Age, my parents had likely been born in it, raised in an era where electricity hadn’t been widespread.

  Old habits died hard, and my parents weren’t the kind to like change.

  “I get bored,” I admitted. “There’s some games on it I play sometimes. Fills the time.”

  “You mean like chess?” my father asked.

  From where I was sprawled, my head still pillowed on my mate’s lap, all I could tell was that it was growing dark outside. “Not the same game, but yes,
like chess. Try not to kill the battery, babe,” I said, hoping my mate wouldn’t kill me for addressing her so familiarly. “The charger was in my bag in my Porsche.”

  “Then your charger is in the back,” my mother said. “I took the two bags I found in the trunk.”

  “Then I guess you can run the battery dead all you want,” I amended, closing my eyes to wait for the ax to fall.

  Instead of murdering me in cold blood, my mate made a pleased noise in her throat, and her lips brushed my cheek. “Thanks, babe.”

  I was going to die, and my mate was going to be the one to murder me. The promise of violence was in the sweet way she echoed my affection. My parents had no way of knowing she wanted blood. My Nicolina’s scent was always tinged with her annoyance.

  All they’d see was the way she touched me and held me close. In my current state, I had no chance of hiding my interest and need for her.

  My parents knew I wanted her. My need reflected in my scent. With my neck broken and her constantly touching me, I couldn’t mask my scent or control my wolf’s desires and instincts.

  If Desmond found us, I’d be dead twice over; once for allowing Nicolina to touch my throat, waking my desire for her, and twice for wanting his precious daughter for my mate. I’d seen his intent with the whisky and catered to his need to see how I would behave around his daughter. He hadn’t forgotten I was susceptible to liquor; he had counted on it.

  He had wanted to wake my wolf and see if I would try to take one of his daughters as my mate. It had been easy to resist her then.

  I had held her in my arms, and her touch and struggle had satisfied my wolf. I hadn’t needed to nip her, not when I consumed so much of her attention. When she had been drunk, calm and peaceful across my lap, I hadn’t wanted anything else in the world.

  I didn’t even care he had turned my old, prized jet into metal glitter. He had given me a chance with my mate, something far more valuable than my plane. If my parents hadn’t interfered and hunted me, I would have had her all to myself, free to hunt her in my subtle, patient way.

  While I wanted to nip her, while I wanted to breathe in my scent on her, I could wait. My mate held me, stroking away the pain of my healing bones with her touch.

  “What do you think, my mate?” my father asked.

  “She’s been well-behaved. I do not mind her playing one of these games. Richard, you will show us these games when we den for the night.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I murmured obediently.

  Nicolina grabbed my phone, unlocked it, and went into the settings. She held it so I could see the display. She changed the passcode, tapping slow enough for me to watch. Once set, she navigated to my contacts, found her father in the list, and started texting his cell.

  “What are you playing?” my father asked.

  “It’s a game,” I answered for her, and because it was a game against them, it was the truth. I watched intently as she told her father what had happened, including her admission she had done what I had advised her not to, resulting in the Porsche flipping. “The one I like best has a goal to fill blocks with numbers on each line. It’s good for developing puzzle-solving skills.”

  My mother huffed. “You always enjoyed hunting numbers more than you did proper prey.”

  “I hunt,” I replied, stung at my mother’s implication of my lack of skill.

  “Yeah, rosebushes,” my mate muttered, so softly I barely heard her.

  “You will teach us this game,” my mother demanded.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I agreed.

  Nicolina informed them of my broken neck, telling them I was mostly paralyzed, which served to hammer at my already damaged pride. I could move, it just hurt to, and with her touching me, I saw no need to inflict extra misery on myself. When Desmond asked her to detail the crash, I was stunned my car had flipped three times before ending up on its roof. Nicolina hadn’t been driving that fast.

  It amazed me the car had held together, sparing my mate from being crushed to death. Convertibles weren’t meant to survive rolling well; my reinforcement of the car’s frame had been to minimize the risk to my brother.

  I hadn’t expected it to work so well.

  I didn’t pray often; my parents believed all Fenerec forsaken, outside of divine influence. When I prayed, it was only in thanks. Only a miracle had spared my mate from death when my parents had inflicted enough damage on my Porsche to break my neck and render me helpless. If some god had saved her and I ever found out who, I’d offer my thanks every day.

  While waiting between messages, Nicolina ran her fingers through my hair and down along my throat. I settled, eyes half-lidded while I watched her message with her father.

  I could feel my father’s gaze on me.

  “He was never so still and quiet,” he commented, startling my mate into looking up from the display.

  “He’s shameless,” Nicolina replied, and playing the game they had forced on her, she bent down and kissed my temple. “You told me to keep him content.”

  “So I did.” I loathed my father’s pleased tone. “So I did.”

  “Try the five in the upper corner,” I mumbled, pretending her texts were a part of the game I favored. Nicolina flicked her nail against my throat. Shivers ran down my spine, a mix of pleasure and pain. I nestled into her lap, sighing at the way she made me tingle in the aftermath of her rebuke.

  Once she finished tormenting me, she asked her father about my parents' threat to sever me from my pack to claim me for their own. The answer was as I expected, and I admired Desmond’s honesty.

  Unless I had a miracle of my own, I’d either die or go mad, nothing more than a rabid wolf needing to be put down, killing everything in my path. If I were lucky, if fate was kind, I’d decay, becoming nothing more than a dog, easily contained. But such instances were rare.

  Alphas, especially ones as dominant as I was, lived for their pack, and they died without it. For a long time, Nicolina stared at the screen, her eyes unfocused. Then, one by one, she deleted the evidence of her conversation with her father.

  Her scent betrayed her worry, but there was nothing I could do to comfort her.

  Desmond had told her the truth.

  It was well after dark when my parents decided to den for the night. I had no idea how they had planned their escape or knew they would need it, but they drove us to a cabin deep within the mountains, far from civilization. My mate squeaked when my father opened the back door of the SUV, opposite of where she had holed up for the drive.

  She pocketed my cell phone before my parents could take it from her, slipping hers into my pocket.

  “Out,” he ordered.

  My mate’s fear infuriated me, but while her touch had soothed my pain, she couldn’t hasten the speed of my recovery. While I could twitch my fingers and move my arms with a great deal of effort, I wasn’t able to protect her, not like I needed to.

  All she could do was obey, which she did. My mother opened the door behind my Nicolina, grabbed her arm and yanked her away from me. I slumped to the floor, unable to swallow my whine as my mother took my mate from me. Like all Fenerec, my father moved fast, taking Nicolina’s place.

  It was an unsatisfactory exchange. Unlike Desmond’s or Frank’s touch, my father’s repulsed me, added to my distress, and I had to fight my wolf for control so I wouldn’t whine again.

  “You’ll hurt him!” my mate blurted.

  My mother cooed. She probably thought the sound was soothing, but it reminded me more of a snake’s raspy hiss. “He’s Fenerec. He’ll heal. Come, little bitch. My mate will care for our puppy. Let’s get to know each other better.”

  The last thing I wanted was my mother anywhere near my mate, but my wolf was so unsettled by my father’s proximity he silenced my growl before I could voice it. When Nicolina was out of reach and out of my sight, my father slung me over his shoulder.

  It hurt, and my pained whine escaped before I could stop it. Instead of the blow both my wolf and I expected,
my father mimicked my mother’s cooing. His was even worse. Instead of comfort, all I could think of was when my lust for fresh fish got the better of me and I choked on their bones.

  Frank hated when I hunted salmon in the wilds almost as much as I hated him ramming his fist down my throat when the salmon inevitably won. Trembling, my fear surged as I was separated from my mate, and I was left wondering if my parents would act right away to sever me from my wolves.

  I could feel my pack in my head and hear the echoes of their calling howls.

  When I was severed from them, my loss would hurt them as Luke’s loss had hurt me.

  Their loss, all at once, would destroy me, as I had destroyed the Alpha of the Coulee City Fenerec. When I sank into the madness of a rogue, wild wolf, I would do everything I could to target my rage at my parents instead of my mate. I would shred them with fang and claw, rip their flesh from their bodies, and ensure they were incapable of healing. Their remains would litter the ground in too many pieces for them to recover.

  My mate was wise and clever. She would know to run.

  All I could do was hope she ran far and fast enough.

  My father carried me into the cabin. By the time he dropped me onto the couch in the main room, I was shaking from fear and anxiety. Nicolina stood with my mother, and like me, she trembled. She held my phone in a hand, showing the screen to my mother, tapping at the screen.

  “Games,” my mother said, her voice thick with disgust.

  “My mate,” my father said, abandoning me to go to my mother’s side. “She’s still a young bitch, little more than a puppy. Such things are appropriate when our son doesn’t require her.”

  Both of my parents were dead; they just didn’t realize it. I saw their deaths in my mate’s eyes. Moving hurt, but I squirmed on the couch enough to be able to watch over my Nicolina. If they tried to hurt her, I’d somehow find the strength and will to intervene.

  “Go,” my mother ordered, shoving Nicolina in my direction.