by Vaughn, V.
Carefully pulling out of her, he righted himself and propped his body up on his forearms. He wanted her to get a good look at the thing she thought he shouldn’t be hiding.
She skimmed gentle fingertips along his brow ridge and across his scarred eyelid. “Lucky to have eyelashes like that. Girls pay a lot of money to pretend that they have them.”
“I’d rather have the vision than the lashes.”
“You can’t see anything at all?”
“Just light changes. The fact that the eye isn’t dead is probably why my wolf can still see just fine.”
“I bet you make a handsome wolf.” She tucked his hair behind his ears and kissed both of his eyelids.
“Maybe. Still not biting you, though, if that’s where your thoughts are headed. Not going to do that to you. Contrary to what you’re thinking, you shifting would make it harder for me to take care of you.” Wolves played rough. Even when they didn’t mean any harm, she could get hurt by a playful bite or swipe. She wouldn’t bounce back as quickly as he would. There was no good reason for her to shift.
She pouted, but he kissed it away.
“I like you on two legs, little wolf. I hope that’s not a deal breaker now that I can’t bear to send you away.”
He eased off the bed and padded toward the bathroom, glancing back once to see her chewing on her lip as she stared at the ceiling.
She’d get over it. He could be just as stubborn as her, so he’d make sure of it in the sweetest way he knew how.
New pack. New rules. They’d make a few of their own now.
His little wolf didn’t need fangs to earn her place.
Chapter 9
Christina thought it would be enough, but it wasn’t. Anton had made gentle love to her again and again and held her throughout the night like he wanted her. When he woke up and had to start his day, he didn’t leave the bed before kissing her and telling her everywhere she’d be able to find him if she needed him. He did everything a typical woman could have hoped for.
But—she wasn’t a typical woman. She was a wolf. Her wolf might have been suppressed—quieted—but she couldn’t help her nature, and her nature said she’d failed. She hadn’t really won her man—she’d just made it so that no other decent woman would have him. The victory didn’t taste as sweet as it should have, because she knew she’d be different than the other mates. They’d wonder why he thought her unworthy of his bite—think she was less than they were.
After a morning of feeling sorry for herself in the house, she decided to go feel sorry for herself outside. The moment she stepped onto the doormat, she changed her mind.
She heard the howling way back near the mountains and recognized it as the Pack. The girls, she thought. She’d seen Anton’s aunt leading them out earlier while she was at the kitchen sink washing out breakfast dishes. They’d been dressed to shift—loose clothes and slip-off shoes. Probably getting lessons in handling their animal halves. The men didn’t tag along, so maybe the girls were getting better at it. Christina was behind the curve. Hell, maybe she wasn’t even on the curve anymore. Without a bite, she’d never shift, and no one besides her mate could give her one.
She stood there on the mat, staring out at the desert for a long while. Then she squared her shoulders. No use harping over things beyond her control. She’d told Anton she wished more than anything to be productive, and since she’d meant it, she would act like it. If she were going to beg for work, though, she was going to start at the top.
Just let them tell me no.
She grabbed her purse from the coat rack, tidied her hair in a bun, and set out for Norseton. She bypassed all of the shops and restaurants this time, heading straight for the front door of the executive mansion, as though she’d been invited.
One of the Pack wolves—hell, she didn’t even know his name—jogged across the lawn as if to intercept her, but she’d already rung the bell.
“What are you doing here? Anton’s doing target practice,” he said.
“I’m not looking for Anton.” She squared her shoulders and twined her fingers together in front of her.
“Does he know you’re here?”
The door opened, and a prim, brown-skinned woman holding a walkie-talkie and a clipboard stepped in front of it. She raised an eyebrow at the wolf, who put up his hands in a, Hey, I tried, gesture. “Can I help you?” she asked.
Christina cleared her throat. “I’m—I’m a Pack mate.” There was really no better word for what she was. “My wolf said that I might find some work here.”
“I’m going to get in such deep shit with Adam,” the guard wolf said.
“Who’s your wolf?” the woman asked. “Not that one, I’m guessing.”
“No. Anton.”
“Anton.” Eyes narrowed, Lora tapped the antenna of her walkie-talkie against her chin and nodded. “Lucky girl. Gotta respect a guy who works as hard as he does.”
Christina’s cheeks burned with pride, and she smiled. “I do.” It was nice to have her early assessment of him validated.
“He’s actually out back beyond the courtyard with some potential guards we’re trying out, putting them through target practice. Why don’t you come in?” She held the door open a little wider, and Christina stepped across the threshold. Somehow, she managed to suppress her compulsion to stick her tongue out at her fellow wolf.
The other woman closed the door behind them and extended her hand. “I’m Lora, the Afótama Queen’s personal assistant.”
“Oh!” Christina took the proffered hand and shook it. “The Queen’s personal assistant answers the front door?”
Lora steered them across the atrium, toward a hall at the right. “In my office, I get a pretty decent view of who’s outside because of all the surveillance cameras. Every new resident in Norseton gets background checked, and your file had just crossed my desk. I recognized your face. We’re short-staffed at the moment, so, yeah. I answered the door. There’s no one else available to. Ask Anton to get you up to speed on specifically why that is.”
“I will. So, what sort of jobs do you have available here?”
“Tell me what you’re good at, and we’ll figure something out.”
“Just that easy?”
“Sure. Part of our agreement with your pack, though I see it as a buy-one, get-one deal. You ladies are bonuses, as far as I’m concerned. You’re the first mate who’s popped by, other than Mrs. Carbone. I was wondering if your Pack Momma was going to send any of you over.”
“The rest are busy. With their wolf selves, I mean. They’re new at shifting.”
“And you’re not?”
Christina’s face burned hot again, but this time not from pride—just the opposite. “I can’t shift.”
“Oh, I see.” Lora led her up a stairwell, down a hall, past a large library-type room, and into a small office. “Don’t take my lack of questioning as disinterest, okay? I do my job as well as I do because I accept information only on a need-to-know basis.”
“I understand.” Thank the lord. At least Lora wouldn’t be judging her on that.
Lora indicated a chair Christina could take, and depressed the button on her walkie-talkie. “Mr. Denis, can you head up to my office when you have a minute?”
“Anything wrong?” Anton returned.
“Nothing at all. Just need to hash out some scheduling to make sure I don’t inadvertently have your wife working opposite shifts.”
Wife? Christina held up a finger. She’d forgotten all about it. While the others had certainly received their certificates and civil ceremonies by now, she and Anton were still ramping up to that. She hoped, anyway. “Um—”
“Can you give me half an hour?” Anton asked. “We need to let these guys know one way or the other if they’re up to snuff before the next round.”
“Take your time,” Lora said. She set the walkie-talkie on her desktop and turned her wrist over to expose her watch’s face. “Can I leave you here for a few minutes? I just want
to check on a contractor who was sitting around too much for my liking.”
“Sure. I’m sorry I didn’t think to make an appointment.”
“Don’t worry about it. Feel free to take a walk. I might be gone a little while if I have to throw my inconsiderable weight around.”
Christina chuckled. Inconsiderable sounded about right. She wasn’t much more imposing than Christina, but Christina suspected Lora demanded respect in other ways than through her size. Christina could probably take some lessons from her. “Can you tell me where Anton is?”
Lora waved her over to the window and pointed down. “Easy enough to figure out for a wolf, right? Halls are twisty-turny here.”
“Yeah, easy enough.”
Christina made her way down to the back courtyard where Adam, Anton, and the other two wolves she didn’t know the names of watched a few men fire bullets into targets mounted on hay bales, set about two hundred yards into the desert.
Cringing, she slipped quietly past the wolves she didn’t know and waited for the shooting to stop.
Rifles.
Gods, she hated them. Was always afraid one would accidently go off. She felt like a cat in a room full of rocking chairs when loaded guns were around. The unloaded ones were no problem, though. She was logical enough to be comfortable with those, but once ammunition was added to the equation, there wasn’t much she could do for the anxiety. Still, she was better now than she was ten years ago. Her brothers made her shoot. Forced her to handle guns, especially when she didn’t want to. Having a loaded weapon in her hands always made her feel a little more equal, even if her hands shook as she lined up her shots.
Sidling up to Anton, she briefly observed each of the potential hires. If they were true professionals, at that range, none of them should have had much trouble hitting the bull’s-eye at least some of the time. Out of the five contenders, only two were hitting it with any regularity, and they were slow shooters, putting three seconds or more between each shot.
She cast a questioning look up at her handsome wolf, already forgetting what she’d come down for. He smiled at her, and her body tingled as she remembered what they’d done all night.
She dragged her shirtsleeve across her heated brow. What did I come here for?
He leaned in and whispered, “We were doing okay with these guys up until this part. I don’t know if they’re going to work.”
Work. Right! That had been why she’d stormed to the mansion. “Um, do they have to be able to shoot from this distance?”
“It’d help a hell of a lot if they could, but if they meet other qualifications, we might be able to find a place for them. Close guard duty. We were really hoping to find some guys to work the grounds, though. For that, they need to be sharper shots. You should have told me you were coming.”
She shoved her hands into her pockets and forced down the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. “I got bored.” And unsure. Anxious. She was scared again that he didn’t really want her, but just looking at him now, it was obvious he didn’t feel that way. He wasn’t cold to her. He didn’t try to push her aside or minimize her presence, just because those other wolves were around.
The interviewees must have run out of bullets, because one by one, they turned to face the wolves.
Adam let out a long sigh and raked a hand through his messy salt-and-pepper hair. It was so thick and wild, it almost made him look like a wolf in his man form. He took the rifle from the man at the first station, loaded some ammo into it, and put the gun to his shoulder. He fired off three quick shots, which flew into the bull’s-eye, one behind the other. “It ain’t just about aim,” he said. “You assholes need to prove to me you can actually fucking see.” He threw up his free hand. “Maybe the first step in the interviewing process should be a basic vision test, ’cause goddamn, for you all to be so highly trained—supposedly—you can’t shoot worth a shit.”
“Come on, man,” one of the would-be hires said. “We’re operating on about three hours of sleep between the five of us. Of course we’re not going to hit every shot.”
“My crew can go days at a time without proper sleep, and the boys almost always hit their targets.”
Anton tensed beside her, and she looked up to see his grimace.
Oh. He’d said he was a weaker shot now. She squeezed his hand.
“Don’t give me that fucking excuse,” Adam said. “Try another.”
“Why don’t we just show them?” one of the wolves said. He extended his hand, and contestant number three handed over the rifle. The wolf indicated to the other wolves behind him. Anton and—well, What’s-his-name.
What’s-his-name got himself a gun and took a lane.
Anton stood frozen, and Christina’s heart broke for him. It’d been so easy for her to dismiss his complaints about his shortcomings, but she’d never once saw him as being less than. But just because she didn’t agree, it didn’t mean that his own opinion didn’t seriously affect his performance. She gripped his wrist and pulled his gaze down to her. Whatever he chose to do, she wouldn’t judge him for it.
He gave her hand a squeeze in return and took the weapon contestant number five held out.
She followed, standing beside him as he loaded a fresh cartridge. His jaw was tense, breathing erratic, and good eye a bit wide. “I’m not much of a shot,” she whispered to him. “But I always shoot with one eye closed. I never could do both eyes open. I always worried something would fly into them.”
“I would have been okay if I still had use of my dominant eye.”
“You’re going to be okay, anyway. I’ll help you.”
“Waitin’ on you, Anton,” one of the wolves said. “If you need a pep talk, I can give you much better motivation via my foot up your ass. Go on and get your shots off so we can do the impressive stuff right after.”
Christina rolled her eyes and put her back to him. “Ignore him. I had to get real used to that in my last pack.”
“He’ll just get louder.”
“Let him. You don’t care, do you? They call you Beast, so earn your name.”
He chuckled. “All right, little wolf.” Anton put the rifle to his shoulder and lined up his shot.
“Make sure you actually hit in the vicinity of the hay, man,” the wolf said again.
Christina turned, and before she realized what she was doing, swiped her nails against the heckler’s jaw. As blood pooled at the surface of the runnels she’d cut into his flesh, a low, foreboding growl filled her ears.
She wasn’t sure if it was Anton’s hand on her shoulder or the offensive wolf’s startled mien that clued her in, but she realized that god-awful noise was coming from her.
“It’s all right. You don’t need to fight my battles, little wolf.” Anton took her hand and shook it out, laughing all the while. “And you don’t even need my bite, do you?” He raised her hand in front of her eyes for her to see the retracting claws.
Her hand. Her—claws?
Adam sidled over, chuckling. “Can I pick ’em, or what?”
“You should have given her to Vic.”
“Vic’s not gonna be Alpha, so why would I have?”
“He’s your son. Of course he’s meant to be Alpha.”
Heart pounding and stomach in knots, Christina tugged at Anton’s sleeve. “Anton, I don’t understand what’s happening.”
The wolf she’d inadvertently mauled muttered, “That makes two of us,” as he pressed his shirtsleeve to his bleeding cheek.
She couldn’t help but to notice the interviewees had all taken a few large steps back. They practically held up the wall behind them. “Anton?”
Still chuckling, he massaged her palm and then twined his fingers through hers.
“You didn’t bite me.”
“No. I didn’t. Hadn’t planned to, either.”
“And that’s partly why I’m here. I—I thought last night was the start of something that might have been enough, but it’s not enough. I want—I want what ev
eryone else has.”
“I can give you the piece of paper and the ceremony if you want them, little wolf. That’s fine. I’m not gonna send you away, or try to make you so uncomfortable you’ll pack up and leave on your own. You wanna be my wife—gods bless you—that’s okay. But you don’t need to be a wolf to be mine. I didn’t—want you to be.”
“Why?”
“Easier for me to take care of you. At least, the way I saw it. You’re right that you probably wouldn’t make a very imposing wolf, so it puts my mind at ease that you couldn’t shift.”
“She still can’t shift,” Adam said. “Not fully. Doesn’t make her any less scary to these assholes.” He crooked his thumb toward the Pack members behind him.
“What’s happening to me?” she asked.
“Nothing you weren’t already capable of.” Adam shrugged. “Not every woman can do it. Used to be that everyone, irrespective of their sex, could shift after puberty, but then some evolutionary thing changed that. I think it was meant to keep the birthrate up. Pregnancy is just riskier for wolves that shift for the moon. Can’t exactly set the fetus aside while you go out howling. Good drugs suppress the shifting compulsion, but they’re hard to come by. Way back when, it was supposed to be that women didn’t get their bites until after they’d had a few kids. We’ve obviously gotten away from that. You’re a throwback, honey. I bet there’s more like you where you’re from.”
She held her now-normal hand in front of her face and stared at it. “I wouldn’t know.” Folks back home didn’t wait so long to pair off. She dropped her hand, determined. “Well, I don’t want the bite, then. Not yet.”
“If ever,” Anton muttered.
Christina rolled her eyes and turned to him. “But I want my certificate. I want it now.”
“All right.” Smirking, he put up his free hand and handed the rifle to Adam. “We’ll take care of it today.”
She jammed her hands onto her hips and cocked up her chin. “You messin’ with me?”
“No, I’m not messing with you. I think you have an appointment to keep first, though.” He canted his head to the walkway where Lora stood. She gave Christina a small wave.