Realms and Rebels: A Paranormal and Fantasy Reverse Harem Collection

by C. M. Stunich

  “It’s a different system once you’re able to shift.” Under any other circumstances, I would have found Liam’s voice soothing. “You’re much less likely to end up fighting to the death.”

  “I don’t really have a choice, do I? I can’t fight off a werewolf, not if I’m human.”

  “No, you really can’t,” Liam agreed, his voice still gentle.

  “Okay, then I’ll take the bite, I guess.”

  This took the fear of commitment to a whole new terrifying level.

  This is going to be bad. I didn’t really want to be a werewolf. But more than, I didn’t want to die.

  “Look,” said Owen, trying to sound reasonable, “we know this is not an ideal situation.”

  “Not ideal?” I repeated. “That’s a mild description of it, I would say. Having to turn into a werewolf, take over a pack, and get married to another werewolf? In less time than it takes me to decide what gloss I’m putting over my lipstick. That’s not not ideal. That’s insane.”

  Dean turned those expressive hands up and out into a half-shrug. “It beats the hell out of the alternative.” A grin twitched at the corner of his mouth.

  Despite myself, I snickered a little, then rubbed my hands over my eyes. “Marriage or death. Those are seriously my only choices?”

  “I’m so sorry,” Liam said. “We didn’t know how this would turn out, or we would’ve reached out sooner.”

  I couldn’t imagine how that phone call would’ve gone.

  “What good with that have done?” I shook my head again. “No—if I have to choose someone from the pack, I don’t know that two weeks makes much of a difference over two days.”

  “How will you decide?” Owen asked.

  “Oh, God. I don’t know.” For some reason, rock, paper, scissors seemed to be inadequate.

  “I volunteer as tribute,” Dean said, that grin tugging at his lips again. Even I recognized the line, and I had never read the book or seen the movie it came from.

  As I made eye contact with Dean, heat flared up in his eyes, and my heart dropped down to my stomach, which was busy sending fluttery feelings all over my body. I licked my lips nervously.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Owen said. “You’re not going to jump the line just because you happen to say something first.”

  “I agree,” Liam said. “If there’s a pool of volunteers, I want in.”

  They all turned heated gazes my direction, almost scorching me with their intensity. I could have melted into a puddle of not-yet-werewolf-alpha right then and there.

  “What about the rest of the pack?” I asked faintly. “Are they all going to try to convince me to choose them, too? And will there be wine and flowers involved?”

  After the flash of a quick grin, Owen shrugged. “That’s up to you. No one in the pack will be surprised if you choose from the three of us since we’re your uncle’s comitatus. But if you’d like a wider selection…” He shrugged. “That could be arranged.”

  “Absolutely not. If I have to do this, I want to keep my options limited.” I had three days. I wasn’t going to try to find my true love. I needed a werewolf mate. Surely one of the men in front of me would do for that.

  I just had to figure out which one would be the best choice.

  “Three days,” I whispered.

  What would I do at some later date, if my true love did show up in my life?

  I shoved the voice asking the question back. If that happened, I’d deal with it then. Right now, these were my options.

  “I have to make a final call by the day after tomorrow?” They all nodded, watching me carefully. “Then I will spend time with each of you tomorrow and make my decision the next morning.”

  It was the only possibility I think of. And it terrified me.

  “Today,” Owen said, “why don’t we introduce you to the rest of the pack? Then you can decide how to handle your change.”

  “Sounds good. Where can I meet them?”

  “Here, in the bar. I’ll call a meeting,” Liam said. Owen and Dean nodded.

  “Make it for a couple of hours from now, okay?” I requested. “I need a break.”

  That’s when it hit me: even though I hadn’t believed in werewolves less than two hours ago, even though I knew nothing about werewolf pack politics, and even though it was probably a supremely bad idea for me to get involved with whatever was going on with the fairies, I had already made my decision.

  I’d come to The Moon Moon planning to rehab and sell the bar.

  I was leaving the place planning to become the alpha of a werewolf pack.

  Never let anyone tell you that your life can’t change drastically in twenty-four hours.

  6

  “I’ll start making the calls.” Liam stood and moved toward the bar where I noticed for the first time an old-fashioned dial phone.

  “We have a kind of phone-tree system,” Owen explained. “Any of us can call five or six members, and the majority of the pack will show up here within an hour or two.”

  It sounded a lot like an outlaw biker gang.

  “But aren’t there pack members who don’t regularly participate?” I asked. “My parents told me that they are technically members, and I know they won’t be here in that timeframe.” It took longer than two hours just to drive here from their house.

  “You’re right. Those members—the ones who belong to the pack for the safety of it but don’t really participate—are required to attend one meeting a year. Usually, it’s the fall convocation. No one can miss that under penalty of death.”

  My parents had always gone on vacation in October. I hadn’t known why until now. No wonder there were never any cheesy photos of the Grand Canyon or Myrtle Beach.

  “I’m going to go to go for walk, get some air.” I stood up and slung my purse over my shoulder. Owen and Dean stood, as well.

  “One of us has to go with you.” Dean looked apologetic, but his voice was firm.

  “Why? I’m an adult. I assure you that I’m perfectly capable of going for a walk around the block. Or up and down the street—whatever San Francisco’s version of around the block is.”

  “Now that you’re alpha, we need to make sure you are protected at all times.” Dean’s tone didn’t change.

  “Especially with fairies out to control wolves,” Owen added.

  The supernatural secret service. Fantastic.

  “Fine.” I shook my head because it didn’t seem worth fighting over. As much as I wanted to get away by my myself for even a few minutes, I wasn’t interested in being kidnapped by fairies.

  This stretch of Folsom Street didn’t have any of the steep hills San Francisco was so famous for. I found myself wishing it did—I could’ve used the chance to work off even a little of the nervous energy flowing through me.

  Nervous. I laughed to myself. That wasn’t the right word for it, exactly.

  I had pretty much already decided not to complicate my choices of mates by looking too closely at any of the other wolves in the pack. The three I had already met were going to make my choice difficult enough. Adding more wolves into the mix? That just seemed extra-stupid. I marched up and down the sidewalk in front of the bar, Owen and Dean flanking me. Under other circumstances, I might’ve felt the need to make conversation. Not now. I was beginning to get over my shock and was headed toward becoming angry. These men—these werewolves—had put me in an untenable position. I should not be forced to choose what was basically a husband. Not at any time. And especially not on pain of death.

  Suddenly, I spun around to face the two of them, who fell back a step in the face of my anger.

  “This is not fair,” I announced. Rage flared up in me.

  “We know,” Owen said.

  “It’s a hell of a system,” Dean added.

  “I can’t even be sure I want to be a werewolf at all.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Owen said. “Most genetic wolves know they have that choice from the time they hit puberty.”
<
br />   “That’s when you tell them they’re wolves?”

  “Oh, no,” Dean said. “Most genetic werewolves know their options from the time they can talk. They just can’t get the bite for the first time until they hit puberty.”

  Years. I should have known about this whole thing for years.

  I pushed down my rage at my parents, my mom’s uncle, the werewolves, everyone. I would deal with it later.

  “Let’s just go back inside the bar,” I said.

  The werewolves of the SoMa pack began trickling in within about ten minutes. At Owen’s urging, I sat back down in the round booth at the Alpha’s table and greeted the pack members as he brought them by and introduced them.

  They quickly began to blur together, their names sliding into one another until I could no longer remember who was who.

  In a lot of ways, they looked like ordinary people. Old and young, male and female, a few children. Not as many kids as I would have expected, but that might have more to do with San Francisco’s socioeconomics than with the werewolf pack itself. Similarly, I didn’t know if the apparently high number of same-sex couples in the pack was a result of the pack’s location or if those kinds of pairings were standard in the werewolf world.

  A few of the members showed up in animal form at the back door. After he let the third one in, Liam slid into the booth next to me and whispered, “Having them show up as wolves is a lot more likely at night. Plus, we’re only a few days away from the full moon, so some of these guys can’t help it.”

  I leaned in closer to him, whispering out of the side of my mouth and hoping no one else could hear me. “Some werewolves have to change into wolves at the full moon even if they don’t want to?”

  Liam shrugged. “It’s a matter of control. Some of the werewolves are young. Some are newly bitten genetic werewolves, and a few…” His voice trailed off.

  “A few are what?”

  Dean slipped into the booth across from me. “A few of them are just a little too closely related to the other kind of wolf shifters.”

  I frowned at his strange smirk. “What other kind?”

  Liam shook his head. “That is an old, outdated kind of thinking,” he admonished Dean.

  Dean glanced around, checking to make sure no one was listening in. “But it still exists. If she’s going to be alpha she needs to know everything we can tell her.”

  “So, tell me.” I shifted in my seat, uneasy at the thought of becoming alpha for real.

  “There are shifters who change from wolf to human, but instead of starting as humans, they start out as wolves.”

  I tilted my head and wrinkled my nose. “Seriously? What difference does that make?”

  “It’s a source of old prejudices.” Liam shot a quelling glance at Dean.

  “Why?” I shook my head. “If you shift from wolf to human or from human to wolf, doesn’t it eventually not matter which came first? I mean, that’s kind of like the chicken and egg scenario.”

  Liam shrugged. “That’s what most of us think these days,” he said.

  “But there are some very real differences,” Dean said. “No matter what the politically correct wolves say.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like… the wolf-born can’t always control their shifts as well as the rest of us. And they always go wolf at the full moon, and usually for several days surrounding it, too. If you ever heard the story about werewolves changing for three days? Yeah—that’s where it came from.”

  “You just told me that some wolves can’t control it at all.”

  “Probably why considered a sign of weakness—and why the wolf-born are considered less…”

  “Less everything,” Liam supplied.

  The entire werewolf culture was turning out to be more complicated than I had anticipated. I snickered to myself at the thought. As if I had anticipated learning anything about werewolves when I had walked in here this morning. I wondered if I might be in shock. It would certainly account or my willingness to agree to the bizarre stipulations surrounding taking over the pack.

  Or maybe I was dreaming. That was the most likely—or would be, except for the fact that I had never had a dream with this much detail. Or feverish. Maybe I had the flu, and all of this was just a fever dream.

  After casting one more glance at each of the betas, I didn’t know whether I wanted to wake up or sleep for months.

  Owen came back from where he’d been circulating among the growing crowd. He had stopped bringing wolves by to introduce them when Liam and Dean had joined me at the table. Now, he stood next to me and leaned down. “I think everyone’s ready.”

  7

  Suddenly, I was nervous. I didn’t like public speaking in general, and now I was concerned about how I would address all these people.

  Wolves.

  “What do I say?” I hissed.

  Owen smiled. “Just introduce yourself, let them know that you’re planning on stepping into your role as alpha as soon as possible all, and you’re happy to meet them. All they really need is reassurance that they have someone on their side who will lead them.”

  I nodded and stood, brushing the front of my shirt down. If I had realized a would be speaking to this many people, I would’ve dressed up a little. Not to mention I’d have spent some time working on my alpha swagger.

  “Hi, everyone,” I said, trying to pitch my voice above the noise of the crowd.

  They all went silent instantly. It was unnerving to have that many people prepared to hang on my every word.

  “I wanted the chance to meet you all,” I said. “I know the last couple of weeks have been hard on the pack.” I stumbled a little over the word pack, then kept going. “And I realize that having a stranger come in as your alpha must be disconcerting. However, I want you all to know that I plan to do my very best by you. I will learn as quickly as I can and I’m ready to do whatever it takes to make sure you have the alpha that you deserve.” A cheer went up at that, with what sounded suspiciously like some howling included. “I’m looking forward to getting to know each of you over the next days, weeks, and months. In the meantime, though, I think Owen had offered to open the bar and the grill if anyone is interested in sticking around for food and drinks.”

  Owen raised his eyebrows at me. He’d offered no such thing—but what little experience I had suggested that throwing a party could always help smooth things out. I wasn’t sure what adding alcohol to werewolves would do, but everyone here seemed at home enough in The Moon Moon that I assumed they been here more than once.

  Everyone but me.

  I made my way through the crowd, greeting people and smiling and murmuring.

  Lucky for me, my years in retail had taught me how to make small talk with customers. Who knew slinging clothes at Kohl’s would prepare me for going alpha on a pack of werewolves, but in all honesty, there was very little difference between that and this. Except, of course, instead of trying to sell clothes—or furniture, or books, or any of the other things I had sold since I started working when I was sixteen—I was trying to sell myself. Or at least the idea of me as alpha.

  As I worked the crowd, I checked out all my potential “mates.”

  All the male werewolves in this pack were physically striking. Even the older ones, the ones I was unlikely to choose as mates, were deeply attractive.

  But I had been right in my initial assessment—if I had to choose one, I might as well choose one of the three wolves who had been uncle Desmond’s chosen advisors. They would know more about how the pack worked than anyone else, and I’d had the added benefit of having at least talked to them alone for a few minutes.

  Forty-five minutes into the party, I had to escape to the bathroom. I splashed cold water on my face, hoping it would help clear my head. It was still spinning from the events of the day.

  And if you think this is bad, just wait until you get married in three days. I tried to shush the tiny voice inside my head, but I knew it was right. Things were only
going to get stranger from here on out.

  I leaned on the counter, peering at myself in the mirror. What was I going to look like when I shifted into a wolf? And why did I care? Why was I having those kinds of thoughts at all?

  The door open behind me and I swiftly stood up straight, brushing my shirt down again, as if that would cover what I’ve been doing.

  A woman about my own age sauntered in. She was gorgeous. If I had known about shapeshifters before today, though, I would not have pegged her as a werewolf. She was more feline than lupine. Tall, sleek, with long, straight blonde hair that fell almost to her waist. Her eyes tilted a little upward and were bright, bright green.

  She eyed me up and down, taking in my jeans and T-shirt, my run-down shoes, my unruly brown curls. She leaned over and checked her own face in the mirror. Her makeup was immaculate, of course.

  I had washed all of mine off when I rinsed my face. I grabbed a paper towel and rubbed at the smudges my mascara had left behind.

  “You’re planning to take one of the comitatus as your mate?” Her voice was cold, without inflection.

  “That’s the story,” I said, finishing with my makeup correction—as much as I could, given the fact that I hadn’t brought any makeup with me to use to touch up.

  “Some of the women in the pack won’t be happy with that plan,” she warned me.

  I looked at her, trying to decide if the warning was meant to be friendly or if she was one of those who wouldn’t be happy.

  I decided I didn’t care. I needed to stomp on that kind of thinking. “That doesn’t matter,” I said calmly. “What matters is the stability of the pack, and as the alpha, I intend to make sure my pack is squared away.” And me not having to go through werewolf death match—that mattered, too—but I decided I didn’t need to mention that.

  “Do you really think it will make the pack more stable for you to step in when you don’t know anything?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. But it will keep the pack from imploding—at least, that’s what the comitatus told me.”