Vice (Fireborn Wolves Book 1)

by Genevieve Jack

  “Excuse me?” He turned his ear toward her.

  “Are you asking me out?” The dingbat question erupted from her mouth with an unpleasant aftertaste. She’d blurted out the words as though his invitation had annoyed her. She wasn’t annoyed; she was flabbergasted.

  “I’d love to hear what you know about raising a mastiff,” he murmured, rubbing his slightly stubbled chin.

  Ah, that was it. He needed advice on the new dog. Made sense and explained his interest in her. “Sure. Why not?”

  “Around seven?”

  “Seven it is,” she responded with an awkward bob of her head.

  He shouldered open the door to the waiting room. “I saw a place called Valentine’s driving into town. Is it good?”

  “The best. I’ll meet you there. We can stop back here to check on Milo afterward.”

  “It’s a date,” he said.

  Her heart jumped slightly at the word date and she quickly reminded herself he was just passing through town. This wasn’t a real date. “I didn’t even catch your first name,” she said before he could leave. “It’s not on the chart.”

  “Kyle.” His hazel eyes crinkled slightly at the corners when he smiled. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Flynn.”

  “Laina.” She scratched the side of her cheek as she nodded, catching a glimpse of fingernails that belonged on a seventy-year-old migrant farm worker. She stuffed her hand in her pocket. “I’d better check on our patient.”

  He nodded. “See you at seven.”

  “Becca, can you turn up the music?” Laina spread the incision she’d made in the belly of the spaniel on her operating table and skimmed the spay hook along the inside of the pup’s abdominal wall. On her first two attempts, she’d caught the intestine instead of the uterus. She swore this dog was hiding its reproductive organs on purpose. Thankfully, as her assistant upped the volume on the Meghan Trainor tune blaring into the operating room, she found her surgical mojo. “Ah, there she is.” She clamped the ovarian vessel and proceeded with the spay.

  If she didn’t hurry, she’d be late for her date with the mysterious Kyle. She’d never experienced anything like the moment she’d laid eyes on Kyle Kingsley. Her wolf had pressed against the inside of her skin the way it did when the full moon was about to rise, fur rubbing her inner flesh, bones stretching in his direction.

  A werewolf’s inner wolf was a second soul, a personality separate and distinct from her human mind, one that usually got its way only three days per month. It was common for wolves to have relationships with other wolves during the full moon when their human counterparts were asleep. These relationships didn’t remain when the wolves were in human form. Likewise, human relationships rarely translated to wolf world. As far as Laina was aware, it was unheard of for an inner wolf to wake up and show attraction to a human. Laina had no idea what it meant, but she was bound and determined to find out.

  “Are you still thinking about Mr. Sexy HotPants?” Becca said over the speaker. Laina caught her assistant’s eye through the observation window and watched her curly brown hair bounce with her off-speaker giggles.

  “Aren’t you?” Laina asked. Methodically, she tied off the blood vessels to the ovaries and uterus before removing the lot. It was careful, delicate work. She prided herself on her execution of the procedure, one she’d perfected for ease of recovery.

  “He was sexy if you like that chiseled superhero look, but I got a whiff of stiff and pretentious. Did you see his watch? That thing is worth more than my entire net worth. I bet he’s warped. Rich guys are always warped.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Anyway, too clean-cut for my tastes. A man without a tattoo is like a hot dog without mustard.”

  “I don’t want to hear about your man’s hot dog.” Laina grinned. Becca broke eye contact to answer the phone on the desk behind her. After a few heated words, she pressed the hold button before returning to the loudspeaker.

  “Your older brother is on the phone. He says it’s an emergency.”

  “Tell Silas I have a patient open on the table. I’ll call him back in forty-five minutes.”

  “That’s what I told him. He said it was a family emergency and if I didn’t ask for your immediate attention, he’d see that I was fired.”

  Laina rolled her eyes as she continued the procedure. “You’re not going to be fired. Tell my brother, if it’s such an emergency, he can come to the clinic and tell me in person. By the time he gets here I’ll be done.”

  “You got it.” Becca turned back to the phone.

  Laina continued her work. “You know,” she whispered to the anesthetized spaniel, “you don’t realize how lucky you are that puppies aren’t in your future. Being part of a pack isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” She checked for bleeding, then began the arduous process of stitching the incision.

  “Why the hell didn’t you answer my call?” Silas said from the door to her surgical suite. Fuck, he must have been in the neighborhood.

  “So help me God, Silas, if my patient gets an infection because you dragged your flea-ridden ass into my OR, you’ll be the next on my table. I’ll have you neutered before you can say sepsis.”

  “I’m the alpha, sister. When I call, you answer.” It was true that her older brother was alpha of Fireborn pack, and as such, she was metaphysically obligated to obey his direct command. To be honest, it was why she regularly refused to answer the phone, instead leaving that task to Becca, whose humanity made her blissfully immune to pack hierarchy.

  Until recently, despite his machismo, Silas housed a soft heart for her and her younger brother, Jason. But Alex Ravien Bloodright changed all that. The rogue pack member had murdered her parents in cold blood, forcing Silas to become alpha of Fireborn pack before his time. As head of the largest pack in North America, the Fireborn alpha automatically became First Alpha, the leader of the Lycanthropic Society, the council that led all werewolf packs. Grieving and orphaned, Silas was thrown into both roles overnight. He wasn’t ready for either.

  Alex was cruel and deadly. Silas had good reason for adopting a more totalitarian leadership style after what happened. If he hadn’t used his position as a detective to hunt Alex down and stop him that summer, all the members of the Lycanthropic Society would likely be dead, and every werewolf in North America would be forced to bow to a madman.

  It was to keep the pack safe, Laina understood. Silas had to lead with an iron fist. She simply wanted no part of it. She envied the freedom of the human woman sitting at the front desk, blissfully unattached and unencumbered. She wanted a life free of both pack politics and Silas’s overreaching protection.

  She wanted to be her own alpha.

  Laina lifted her gaze to meet her brother’s. “Seriously, Silas, I know you wouldn’t risk the life of this sweet pup on my table unnecessarily. What is so important that it can’t wait?”

  “We confirmed the body we recovered from Silver Sparrow Mountain was Alex’s.”

  Laina paused midstitch and released a relieved breath. “Alex is dead then, without a doubt?” Werewolves, as shifters, could change small things about their appearance at will, but with the help of the type of dark magic Alex was into, complete transformation was not only possible but could be permanent. After taking Alex down, Silas had wanted a DNA test to prove the body they thought was Alex’s was actually his, which meant he’d needed a family member’s cooperation. Alex’s sister, a society member herself, was more than happy to oblige, but supernatural DNA testing took time. It had been over two months since Silas had recovered the body.

  A smile spread across Silas’s scruffy face. “Sister was a match. It’s him. He’s dead.”

  She finished her last stitch, shaking her head. “You did it, Silas. If Mom and Dad were alive, they’d be so proud of you.” She gave him a genuine smile.

  “The society seems happy about it.” He pushed his hands into the pockets of his blazer. “They’re throwing a party in our honor tonight at Rivergate Manor, formal att
ire.”

  She groaned. “I can’t go. I have a date.”

  “A date? With who?”

  “A guy.”

  “What guy? All the society members are going to be at the ball.”

  “Not a wolf.”

  “A human?” he scoffed. “Come on, Laina. Be serious. You can reschedule your playdate. This is part of your royal duty.”

  “You know how I feel about these things.”

  “Yes, I do. You hate being a princess. You think that because I’m the alpha, your involvement in the society isn’t necessary. And you would prefer to simply live your life in the human world, only joining us for an obligatory run on Rivergate Manor’s protected property three days a month.”

  “Exactly.” She cleaned Ginger’s stitches and applied a sterile dressing. “You’re the heir. And frankly, even if something happened to you, Jason would get the crown—not me. I’m completely dispensable, and that’s okay. I prefer it that way. I didn’t spend eight years in school to leave veterinary medicine behind and raise a litter of werewolf pups.”

  Silas frowned. He opened his mouth as if to say something and closed it again. She backed off the anesthesia and removed the intubation. Ginger whined softly. Laina whispered, “You’re going to be fine, sweet girl.”

  “It’s not all about you, you know,” Silas said.

  She straightened, gritting her teeth. “If my life isn’t about me, who is it about?”

  “The pack. Whether you like it or not, you are Fireborn royalty, which means the largest pack in North America looks to you for leadership. They also look to you to provide the future of the pack.”

  “You mean children.”

  “Royal children. You are a descendant of a primary family, a pureblood. The society is going to expect you to choose a suitor from within its ranks.” It only took a drop of werewolf blood to technically make someone a werewolf, but such a person might never shift. The greater the concentration of primary werewolf blood, the greater the chance of displaying werewolf qualities: strength, speed, ease of shifting. Pureblood babies kept the pack strong and preserved the werewolf way of life.

  “They expect the same of you, Silas, but I don’t see you picking out your wedding tux. Hell, the last woman you dated wasn’t even a werewolf.”

  “I can father children into my senior years. Your biological clock is ticking.”

  She scooped Ginger into her arms and carried her through the doors to the kennels they used for recovery. Silas followed, parking himself against the wall while she made the spaniel comfortable.

  “I’m not marrying someone simply to appease society elders,” she said. “I will marry who I please, and I will marry for love or not at all.”

  Silas drew a hand through his wild brown hair, his bushy eyebrows giving him an unquestionably wolfish appearance. “Listen, Laina, you know how this works. You can have something on the side. Marriage among werewolf royalty has often been more… contractual in nature.”

  “No,” she said.

  “I could make you.”

  “You could, but you won’t.”

  “I will if I have to.”

  “You won’t because you know I’ll hate you for the rest of my life. Don’t risk losing one of the few people who loved you before you were alpha.”

  He stared at her, unblinking. “You don’t realize how important you are to the pack. An alliance by marriage with another primary pack member would strengthen our numbers and our position in the society.”

  “Oh, I understand that.”

  “If you did, you’d never be this difficult.”

  She shrugged. “I understand. I just don’t care. It has nothing to do with me. You don’t need me. You are all the leader Fireborn will ever need. Alex’s dead body proves that. You can marry to unite the packs. You can sire pups to fill our ranks. You don’t need me.”

  He placed his hands on his hips, looking defeated. “You will attend the ball tonight. Seven o’clock. Formal dress. That is a direct order from your alpha.”

  She raised two fingers to her forehead and saluted him, ending the motion by flipping him her middle finger.

  “And you will act like the princess you are.” He gave her a smug grin before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

  “Oooh! You asshole!” She stomped her foot. With a glance at her watch, she headed for the sink to wash up. She’d have to ask Becca to call Kyle and cancel their date. If she was going to make it to Rivergate Manor tonight, properly attired, she’d have to leave now to prepare. She couldn’t be late and she couldn’t say no. Silas’s direct alpha command meant she had no choice. If she tried to disobey, life would get extremely uncomfortable.

  Two

  The dress Laina wore to the ball was a style she’d never have chosen for herself. Stephanie, her Zafka—a doppelgänger used as her security detail—had picked it out for her. One of the benefits of having an employee who resembled you was they could shop for your clothes. Laina was thankful that Stephanie had made the time to obtain the dress on short notice, even if the midnight blue strapless gown was more revealing than she preferred. Still, she understood the cut of the dress served a greater purpose than flattery; it revealed the phoenix tattoo on her upper-right shoulder, the sacred emblem of Fireborn pack.

  “Princess Laina? Is that you?” Evelyn, the matriarch of Crescent Star pack, adjusted her bifocals and reached out to grip Laina’s right hand. “I expected to see a ring on this finger by now, dear. After the horrors of the last year, nothing would cheer this old soul like a royal wedding.” Crescent Star had lost seven males to Alex before Silas had taken him down. Laina’s heart ached for Evelyn’s loss.

  “I guess I just haven’t met the right male,” she said softly.

  “Since when did that ever stop anyone,” Evelyn whispered. “Look around. Anyone in a tie would jump at the chance to have a beauty like you on his arm.” She winked before crossing the veranda to enter the ballroom, passing Silas as he walked out to meet her.

  “What did Evelyn want?” he asked.

  “Nothing more than to dig for gossip.”

  “As if she doesn’t have enough stories of her own to tell.”

  “What she wants is happy stories to make her forget what happened to her pack. I can empathize, but she’d have better luck reading a romance novel than looking to my life.” Laina frowned.

  “You look beautiful.” Silas leaned against the open archway of Rivergate Manor’s ballroom. “I love the hair.”

  “Stephanie did it.” Laina shrugged. Her mahogany hair had been smoothed into a glamorous pomp with a high ponytail. Along with the mani-pedi and salt scrub she’d endured at Spa Stephanie, the hairstyle was enough to make her appear a proper princess.

  “It suits you.”

  “Don’t bother buttering me up. You’re on my shit list, brother. How dare you alpha me here.”

  “Would you have come otherwise?”

  “Of course not.”

  Silas stared into his glass, swirling his vodka and tonic. “Then, I did the right thing. It would look ungrateful if you didn’t show. Like it or not, you’re a princess. You have a duty to your race.”

  She groaned. “Silas…”

  The tension between them was broken when Cameron James, her childhood friend turned alpha of Rivergate pack, tapped the side of his glass with a spoon. “If I could have your attention please,” he called from inside. “If everyone would join us in the ballroom, we’d like to toast our guests of honor.”

  “Where’s Jason?” Laina asked.

  “Already inside sniffing butts,” Silas whispered.

  “Crude.”

  “That’s Jason.” Their little brother was obsessed with the female of the species. Not one female. All females. Laina might have thought it was due to his nature as a werewolf, the wild animal within, only she knew far more wolves who counteracted their curse with a relatively conservative human life. Not so with Jason. The man mated with any female, wolf or human, who
would have him. The copulation was quick and the relationships rarely lasted longer than the act itself. Still, she had to hand it to him; her little brother was always brutally up-front about his intentions, and thanks to a pretty face and his career as a highly successful venture capitalist, there was rarely a shortage of females interested in what he had to offer.

  The ballroom of Rivergate Manor had been decked out in pale flowers and bright twinkle lights that perfectly complimented the stucco and ivory marble of the Italian palazzo-style mansion. Against this monochromatic backdrop, the colorful attire of the guests became like works of art: ruby, emerald, and sapphire swirling against heavenly white. Laina accepted a glass of champagne from a passing server and took her place beside Jason, slightly behind and to the left of Cameron. Silas stepped to Cameron’s right side, in the true place of honor.

  “Should we kneel before our brother-savior,” she groused to Jason.

  “Hmm?” Her brother wasn’t listening. He was staring across the ballroom at a blonde in a tight green dress.

  “Stop staring,” Laina said.

  “Why? She’s been catching my eye all evening.”

  “She’s only sixteen,” she whispered. “That’s Cameron’s little sister, Allie.”

  “How sixteen? Sixteen, almost seventeen, or…”

  “Fifteen, just turned sixteen. Allie has only shifted once before. Just got her Rivergate tattoo. The last thing she needs is the complication of your stow-and-go dick. Plus, it’s against the law.”

  “The human law.”

  “Your brother and alpha is a cop. Don’t make me ask him to order you to leave her alone.”

  He drained his glass, the smell of bourbon filling her nostrils when he spoke again. “Relax, big sister, I’ll leave her be. Plenty of other bitches in the doghouse.”

  “Gross.”

  “It’s my responsibility as a royal male to sow my noble DNA. There isn’t a woman in this place who’d turn me down.”

  “And that doesn’t bother you?” She raised an eyebrow. “Spare me the DNA business. You’d have several litters of pups by now if you weren’t being careful.”